Selective Amnesia There was a point to this. But I forgot.

Original Sound Track

It’s 6:28 AM, and it is my third night running that I’ve stayed up, un-sleeping-ly, reading, researching, note-jotting for my 5000 word essay. Make that two essays, minimum length 3000 words each. While I am no stranger to late nights, (*) what makes this bloody difficult is that I miss the unique sounds of a Chennai night.
There were no dogs barking/howling. No watchman thumped the platform with his stick. No creaking cots. No sudden blare of a car horn as a late night reveler/worker sped past. No mosquitoes. In short, nothing familiar about this bout of insomnia.
As morning approaches, and as the skies pink at the horizon, Madras’ many temples wake up. December/January is devoted to LR Easwari, SP Balasubramaniam and Seergazhi Sivachidambaram and their multiple gods. Tinny speakers on temporary poles borrowing electricity from the closest apartment, out-shouting the other shrine not more than 20-30 feet away.

Suprabhatam or Bhaja Govindam plays, and in the rare case of absence of that particular tape, any MS offering. Not cliches, not perpetuating blind stereotypes. Even in August 2009, I assure you, early morning Kelly’s performed to this particular mix.

Like Kamal in Pushpak/Pesum Padam, I think I should get me a tape of these sounds.

(* Aargh. The Brits have got me. The line – no stranger to late nights – HAS to be understatement of the decade past, and the decade present.)