15
My flight landed in Chennai at 7 p.m. we had a six-hour delay in Delhi because a
psycho called the airport and said the plane had a bomb. My bag took another
hour to arrive on the conveyor belt. As I waited, I looked at the people around me.
The first thing I noticed, excuse my shallowness was that almost ninety percent
of the people were dark complexioned. Of these ninety percent, eighty percent
had dabbed talcum that gave them a grey skin tone. I understood why Fair &
Lovely was invented. I couldn’t understand why people wanted to be fair so bad.
Most women at the conveyor belt looked like Ananya’s mother; I couldn’t tell
one from the other. They all wore tones of gold, but somehow it looked more
understated than Pammi aunty’s necklaces that had precious stones and pearls
hanging from them like shapeless dry fruits.
I came out of the airport. I had to find an auto to go to my chummery. I fumbled
through my pockets to find the slip of paper with my new address. I couldn’t find
them in my jeans and almost panicked. I didn’t know any place in Chennai except
T. Nagar. And I knew t. Nagar as I took Brilliant Tutorials once upon a time.
Somehow, I didn’t think they’d shelter one of their lakh of students from eight
years ago.
I opened my wallet and found my address. I heaved a sigh of relief. I came to
the auto stand. Four drivers argued with each other over the next passenger.
‘Enga?’ one driver pushed back three drivers and asked me. ‘Enga hotel?’
‘No hotel,’ I said and took out my wallet. I opened it and the drivers saw the ten
hundred-rupee notes my mother had given me before leaving Delhi. He smacked
his lips. I pulled out the slip with the address.
‘English illa,’ he said.
I looked around. No one proficient in English seemed visible. I read the
address.
‘Nung-ba-ka-ma-ma?’ I said.
‘Nungambakkam?’ the driver laughed as if it was the easiest word to say in the
world.