Mylai Karpagambal mess
There are somethings in life that should not change. One among them was the ambience, or character, of the Mylapore Karpagambal mess. The place, in its previous avatar, could be aptly described as a hole in the wall. Quite literally. Combined with its great food and a start studded customer list, the place was etched into Chennai-ites hearts. Complete with its unclean interiors and non-functional wash basins. On my regulation visit there this time, I walked right past a brightly lit facade where once stood the dour entrance. My brain simply refused to map this bright thing to the MKM image in store. In fact I crossed the road and scanned the row of buildings and not until I saw the nameboard did I completely believe that it was indeed MKM. Wearing bad make up. Thankfully, the food is still good, although I felt their avial could do with a lot more of vegetables. Service remains old world style too with unlimited access to the sambhar bucket and chutney containers. Yet, somehow it didn't feel right. But there is hope. The interiors, in spite of the face lift, are 'getting there' and it is only a matter of time before the wash basins get assistance from buckets of water and floating steel tumblers. I want my old MKM back, dammit!
Grand Master
While I was tucking into my 3rd keeravadai, doused with ample quantities of chutney and sambhar, Mr. and Mrs. Vishwanathan Anand and a few others parked themselves at the next table. Which explained why the MKM folks were guarding that table (in the A/C section, of course) like a fortress when we had entered. The greatest move that night was when we, as in self and Anand, got served our respective onion ravas by the same bare hand off the same plate. Shortly followed by our respective adais. But for his excellence in a certain board game, there was little that separated me and the master that night.(He he.) But the grandest master that night was inside the kitchen, making all the right moves!
Fast and curious
A long standing wish that got fulfilled - my maiden Shatabdi trip. Saved myself a lot of time, but the hype surrounding the quantity and quality of on-board food was completely deconstructed by Messrs. Southern Railways themselves. Maybe it was a one off day, but food quality was worse than the average pantry car stuff. I won't say that the portions were small but I could tuck into a full size home cooked lunch right after I got off the train. I'll take the never ending procession of snacks on the Brindavan/Lal Bagh anyday. Whatever the shortcomings on the culinary front, they were offset by the thrills provided by the lady seated across. Apparently, she was returning to Bangalore after attending a funeral in Chennai, the details of which she was passing on to various people by phone whenever she got enough signal strength. The exciting part was this: "I was told that it was the nurse that pulled the oxygen supply.... Hello? Hello? Hmmm" and hung up. Damn the network!
The great Indian (Railways) berth trick
Stranded in Mysore on the eve of 2010's first working day. Like the thousands around, absolutely need to be in Chennai the next morning. Except, our tickets are waitlisted - 179 and 180. In other words, not a chance. A few discrete phone calls are placed to 'someone with pull' and in an hour, we are informed that our seats will be confirmed and are asked to board coach S6. Fast and easy, maybe a tad too easy. Train pulls into the Bangalore station and we get ousted by unruly people only because they actually hold tickets for the seats that we were "assigned"! Just as we prepare to spend the night crouched by the wash basin (and the toilet), the TT provides us a berth in exchange for a smiling Gandhi. San'TT'a is late by a good week and is in black. But he did bear us gifts.
3 idiots
After getting the "You haven't watched 3 idiots?" with an exaggerated roll of eyes from everyone a hundred times, we bit the bait. Sathyam was sold out for Monday night 10:30. Chennai has changed! Nearby Devi had a few for 10:30 and the theater was nearly full. With the "family" crowd, mind you. There was even a mami in madisaar in attendance. I tell you, Chennai has changed! Verdict: A well marketed, over-hyped, ordinary Hindi movie. By the way, is it just me or is Kareena Kapoor really a man? Oh well. All in all, I must admit that it was good time pass, I mean the whole movie, theatre, night show package. P.S: I've now picked up Five point someone.
The Corporation
I had lost my birth certificate and needed one re-issued. After collecting the pre-requisite letter from the hospital, I proceeded to try my luck at the local corporation office around noon. Three people, a lady and two men, manned the counters, devoid of any indications of what was being dispensed there by way of services. Gingerly approaching the first guy, I asked if it was the right place for my requirements. No response. Absolutely none. He had the air of someone busy splitting atoms and I left him continue his task. The girl voluntarily pointed me to the third guy who bore an uncanny resemblance to a seal. He was visibly uncomfortable in his shirt, the middle button of which was threatening to strike work any minute. He entered my details into the system with pudgy fingers and began swivelling in his chair, staring intently at the monitor. Roughly three minutes had passed in this manner when I asked him if he could see my records. Without batting an eyelid, he goes, "I haven't told you anything yet." Quite a stunner of a reply, I'm sure you'll agree. After another minute elapsed, he broke his silence saying that my records weren't in the system. Solution: "Wait until 4 pm when either Panneer or Selvam will be here to let you know what needs to be done." At which point I turned around, drove home and boarded my flight back that night. I tell you, Chennai hasn't changed one bit!
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