By George! Chennai is sweating, with most people sporting salt maps on their clothes. Except those in George Town, where the sea breeze has set in with a vengeance, dramatically blowing the robes of lawyers criss-crossing the High Court, making them look like purposeful knights of yore. On a spit of sand a few hundred metres from here was where modern India was born, and although the place is now crowded, and virtually wiped off greenery, it thrives with life and heritage.
The North always remembers...
Folks down the road think that their older, southern neighbourhood is the city’s culture capital, but is it as colourful as George Town, named for a long-dead emperor whose statue lords over a square with pigeons lording over his head? He gazes at the homeless drying their few clothes on his marble plinth while the rich walk out of the jewellery shops on this stretch, their bags laden.
Here you can buy books on Bunder Street or bean bags at China Bazaar; eat jalebi made by Marwari halwai s or kebabs skewered by Bohra cooks; gaze at Art Deco buildings and Indo-Saracenic architecture; catch a Tamil music concert at the Raja Annamalai Mandram or hear the fading voices of Anglo-India come alive at St Mary’s church; wander past the beautiful Edwardian-style bank facades on First Line Beach or shop at the tin stores of Burma Bazaar. George Town is us — a microcosm of India.
— Deepa Alexander doesn’t believe in exercise — unless it is to go walking with the ghosts of the past.
In the age of Instagram if your heart pines for the past, head straight to Mylapore. This part of Chennai, the city’s cultural capital, is where a unique jugalbandi plays out — a fusing of the then and now.
Walk into its narrow alleyways to find old-world houses jostling for space with squeezed-in apartments. In its congested streets you could bump into a cow or a car. Piping hot bajji s are served through a window (Jannal Kadai) big enough to just let your hand in. Savour crispy rava dosa s at Rayar’s that can seat not more than half-a-dozen people. But if you prefer restaurants with more room, there are a few that dot its roads. Traditional outlets for jewellery and clothes co-exist with spacious, branded stores. If there are people constantly on the move, there are also those relaxing with their families in the forecourt of the ancient Kapaleeswarar kovil . If there is a Veera Anjaneyar temple in Mosque Street, there is a Navashakthi Vinayagar kovil on Luz Church Road.
Mylapore continues to be the seat of the classical arts. Sabhas here are thronged by art lovers. December or Margazhi is also when one experiences the true essence of Mylapore — music, colourful kolam s and ghee-laced pongal add to its appeal. As Mylapore holds on to an era gone by, the landmark temple tank stands a silent spectator to the four mada veedhi s around it, where tradition and contemporary have come to terms. The emoticon perfect for Mylapore is the ‘high five’.
— Chitra Swaminathan loves to end even a meal of pizza with a tumbler of freshly brewed kapi
(Where we pit two Chennai icons against one another)
