The sun rays sweep over her face reflecting the 100 feet glass plane of what must be a million dollar company. Crawled like a baby in the womb is her on the bed made of red bricks. She turns around to avoid the early morning sun, only to tumble the leftovers from the day before.
The glimmering sun has lit up the whole place.
It is something that I see every other day, I get into my bike plug in my earphones and drape layers and layers of clothing over my face, until it looks like a zombie’s head. I then wear my coolers, which by the way is the first thing that I got for myself from my salary, put on my helmet and start.
As the soothing music from Indira fills my ears, the city unfolds right before my eyes.
I cut across the signal to the left just to avoid the police mama standing a little ahead of the signal. It is the month end and the last thing that I would want to spend is bribing them for the insurance that I should have renewed two months back. Not that they catch a woman, but what if the odds are not in my favor today.
The smoke from the bikes and cars traverse through my multi-protection clothing and fills my nostrils.
I speed up to 70, early mornings and late nights are the only time when you can speed up to seventy on the Durgabai Deshmukh road. With a water running on both the sides of the canal and flower vendors busy weaving garlands in all shapes and sizes. I pass through MGR Woman’s college and go straight. Another 5 minutes and I am home. But, what’s the point of being home at 6 in the morning, when you can go and watch the sunrise at the beach?
One of the main perks of staying at Mylapore is being easily accessible to the Marina beach. I am a sucker for beaches. The minute I take the left turn near Patinapakkam, drizzles of joy greet me. With the World’s second largest shore on one side of me and people happy dancing, fighting, walking, running and even some making out on the other side, I head straight to my most favorite spot of the beach. A little ahead of the Skater’s ground is this place, where flocks of pigeons gather. The very sight of it will traverse you into a Mani Ratnam’s movie.
I remove all the protective clothing that I had covered my face with earlier, loosen my hair and run into the beach. Just like how a lost child would run into the hands of her mother.
The next 45 minutes is pure bliss. Something that I cannot confine to words (but will try in my next blog post). I leave the beach because the scorching heat of the sun had started to burn my skin. Well, that’s Chennai and Chennai’s climate for you. Both unpredictable, yet beautiful.
If the concept of re-birth is legit, I would still want to be here. Because – Sorgamae analum adu namma oru pola varuma!