Before any of you Chenno-philes rush to savage me on the Netspace and beyond let me clarify that I mean it literally - Chennai has warmed up. This disclaimer is necessary given that the norm in Tamil Nadu these days appears to be to take the hatchet to anyone who disagrees with you; a trend my father who is an astute observer of all things Tamil attributes to the spread of what he terms the "arivaal -sickle -culture" or "urulakkattai - baseball bat- culture" on the TV. I am learning that there aren't many things worse in this place than disagreeing with the "established" viewpoints. More on that later. In Madras of yore we talked if we disagreed over something. And talked some more. Shouted at each other even. Then we enlisted neighbours and friends in support of our viewpoint hoping to scare the other side off argument with sheer numbers in support of our viewpoint. We even trucked them in by the busloads. If all else failed we wrote to the Editor of The Hindu a "stinker", trashing the other viewpoint; only we didn't call it trashing those days - we called it demolishing the other side's argument. But times have changed even as the city changed from Madras to being Chennai; we now take a more direct and rather robust approach to disagreements. If you are a person we start with a verbal salvo or two and then wade in with a baseball bat equivalent, which is the weapon of choice among us. Persistent or deeper disagreements are settled with a sickle (arivaal) with terminally permanent consequences. If you are a neighbouring state, we stop our tomatoes and bhindis and brinjals crossing over to your territory and your coconuts coming into ours. Whatever else you can say about us, you cannot say we don't have redressal mechanisms in place.
Where was I before I got side-tracked into expatiating on our preferred methods of settling disagreements? Ah yes, Chennai isn't cool anymore. Not in the metaphorical sense but in the literal one. We were beginning to have some nice weather finally around the beginning of December. Clear and warmish-but-not-hot days followed by cool evenings and pleasant nights. The early mornings were especially nice and conducive for walks along our wonderfully littered streets and avenues. The cool-weather wear came out all of a sudden in December. Half-sleeved - Tamil-speak for sleaveless- sweaters came out; with women preferring the shawl. Then came the monkey caps.
The monkey cap is a Chennai institution. I am even tempted to think that we must have invented it before some one from the great big bad North hi-jacked it in a Harbhajan-like fashion: ma-ki cap, meaning mum's cap or cap knitted by mum. Some stupid anglophiles must have heard it as "monkey". I totally bought into the Harbhajan version of the ma-ki-gate, so much so I can't even bring myself to say it was monkey-gate. That the monkey-gate has now been superseded by "finger-gate" is neither here nor there. To get back to my narrative: yes, monkey caps are an essential element of Chennai winter wear. We make our little ones wear them first, then our elders and we ourselves, of all ages shapes and sizes embrace it whole-heartedly by the beginning of December. At the first hint of coolness in the air we reach for our monkey caps. It is the acme of Chennai winter chic.
This season there has been a new addition to our winter wear collection; at any rate I am only noticing it now. It is the earmuff. Its use is no doubt based on the belief that cool air is bad for your ears and thence to your throat, sinuses and your well-being in general. My daughter will never forgive us for making her wear multi-coloured earmuffs on her walks to school in the depths of English winter when the wind and the rain can make your ears hurt badly. During her more recent sojourn in the far colder north-eastern US we studiously avoided suggesting the use of earmuffs lest we be banished from her life for good. But I digress. The earmuffs of Chennai is where it is at (whatever it means, I have found this phrase "where it is at", very cool, with-it and happening and I am trying to be all those things). These are not the run of the mill over-the-head types held together by a sturdy plastic band. These are the back of the head types which leave your hair-do in tact and appear as if they were floating, glued to your ears by some mysterious force. And they come covered in camouflage-print cloth covers. Presumably we are concerned about the earmuffs catching a cold which could then result in our catching a cold through our ears and so on. By the way the fact that we cover our luggage in camouflage-print cloth is not meant so much to ward off the cold as to keep the luggage looking new. Don't ask me why make them look new when they never get to be seen in their own skin. I am still figuring that one out - you see I have been away for long and missed out on some of the key developments on the Chennai fashion scene.
I have even seen a hoodie or two where I walk (which place shall remain unspecified - I tend to come off second best in my encounters with baseball bats).
Then all of a sudden the weather turned (the proverbial worm, alas, is yet to). And Chennai has ceased to be cool. I blame it on the cyclone with a northern name - from where we are, north, west, northwest are all the same, they are all North. You cannot trust the Northerners, even if they are only cyclones. Tricky lot they are. You only have to look at Didi to know that. Or Maya. There are no more sweaters (OK, "jumpers", if you are so inclined) monkey caps, shawls or earmuffs.
I miss the monkey cap the most. Without it, Chennai is no longer cool.
Where was I before I got side-tracked into expatiating on our preferred methods of settling disagreements? Ah yes, Chennai isn't cool anymore. Not in the metaphorical sense but in the literal one. We were beginning to have some nice weather finally around the beginning of December. Clear and warmish-but-not-hot days followed by cool evenings and pleasant nights. The early mornings were especially nice and conducive for walks along our wonderfully littered streets and avenues. The cool-weather wear came out all of a sudden in December. Half-sleeved - Tamil-speak for sleaveless- sweaters came out; with women preferring the shawl. Then came the monkey caps.
The monkey cap is a Chennai institution. I am even tempted to think that we must have invented it before some one from the great big bad North hi-jacked it in a Harbhajan-like fashion: ma-ki cap, meaning mum's cap or cap knitted by mum. Some stupid anglophiles must have heard it as "monkey". I totally bought into the Harbhajan version of the ma-ki-gate, so much so I can't even bring myself to say it was monkey-gate. That the monkey-gate has now been superseded by "finger-gate" is neither here nor there. To get back to my narrative: yes, monkey caps are an essential element of Chennai winter wear. We make our little ones wear them first, then our elders and we ourselves, of all ages shapes and sizes embrace it whole-heartedly by the beginning of December. At the first hint of coolness in the air we reach for our monkey caps. It is the acme of Chennai winter chic.
This season there has been a new addition to our winter wear collection; at any rate I am only noticing it now. It is the earmuff. Its use is no doubt based on the belief that cool air is bad for your ears and thence to your throat, sinuses and your well-being in general. My daughter will never forgive us for making her wear multi-coloured earmuffs on her walks to school in the depths of English winter when the wind and the rain can make your ears hurt badly. During her more recent sojourn in the far colder north-eastern US we studiously avoided suggesting the use of earmuffs lest we be banished from her life for good. But I digress. The earmuffs of Chennai is where it is at (whatever it means, I have found this phrase "where it is at", very cool, with-it and happening and I am trying to be all those things). These are not the run of the mill over-the-head types held together by a sturdy plastic band. These are the back of the head types which leave your hair-do in tact and appear as if they were floating, glued to your ears by some mysterious force. And they come covered in camouflage-print cloth covers. Presumably we are concerned about the earmuffs catching a cold which could then result in our catching a cold through our ears and so on. By the way the fact that we cover our luggage in camouflage-print cloth is not meant so much to ward off the cold as to keep the luggage looking new. Don't ask me why make them look new when they never get to be seen in their own skin. I am still figuring that one out - you see I have been away for long and missed out on some of the key developments on the Chennai fashion scene.
I have even seen a hoodie or two where I walk (which place shall remain unspecified - I tend to come off second best in my encounters with baseball bats).
Then all of a sudden the weather turned (the proverbial worm, alas, is yet to). And Chennai has ceased to be cool. I blame it on the cyclone with a northern name - from where we are, north, west, northwest are all the same, they are all North. You cannot trust the Northerners, even if they are only cyclones. Tricky lot they are. You only have to look at Didi to know that. Or Maya. There are no more sweaters (OK, "jumpers", if you are so inclined) monkey caps, shawls or earmuffs.
I miss the monkey cap the most. Without it, Chennai is no longer cool.
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