The Madras Mail

Life is always about moving on and hoping that things turn out better than they are presently, at least that is what most of us hope life is. It’s quite easy to do the math, as we get older, we ‘supposedly’ get more mature, and things that were precious to us before seem childish, and we have new wants, the need to be more intelligent, more powerful, and more happy. I’ve spent the last 6 years doing crazy, crazy things, and I still miss doing almost all of them.

In less than a month, am leaving Chennai, possibly for good, to Jamshedpur and then the world. And now I have very complex feelings in me. I’m leaving behind my family, my friends, who I’ve known for the most part of my life and am leaving behind Chennai, where I had my first vodka shot at ECR, my first smoke at the beach, and so many first’s in life. I’ve sort of grown to like my chicken at Sea Shell, my beer at Bronx, my 9:30 smoking session at Bhai, the extremely vetti conversations, my late night coffee at CCD (that’s Cafe Coffee & Dum), the neighbourhood dog that gets kicks out of chasing me, endless days spent talking about the future, and so many more things. I’ll probably never get to do any of these things again, and knowing that is a kick in the balls. When I come back after 2 years, the bespectacled, baby-faced, not-so-Brahmin boy will be a bespectacled, baby-faced, not-so-Brahmin MBA graduate with a job; someone who wouldn’t do shots at the back of a car, who wouldn’t pass out at a party, and who definitely wouldn’t drink at Besant Nagar TASMAC.

Am sure the next two years will be a lot of fun, albeit with a completely different set of people, it’s something I wholly look forward to and as Mrs. Rowling said, ‘…, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.’