From ambattur with love.

ஆனாத செல்வத் தரம்பையர்கள் தற்சூழ 

வானாளும் செல்வமும் மண்ணரசும் யான்வேண்டேன்,

தேனார்பூஞ் சோலைத் திருவேங்கடச்சுனையில்,

மீனாய்ப் பிறக்கும் விதியுடையே னாவேனே.

The stairs leading to the motta maadi is just glazed concrete. The steps spiral all the way to the top leading to a wooden door that is locked most of the time. Right next to the area in between the door and the stairs is a raised wooden platform with the pillows and mattresses. The room, when opened, smells of the 1950's.  It has black and white photos of newly weds, very little kids who now have grey hairs. The windows inside the room are directly opposite to the ti cycles ground, and the road right outside the house is next to the railway track. No sounds of traffic.

Sitting in the stairs, looking at the railways track for a long time is probably the most tiresome and counter-productive thing to do in life. No, this little fellow begs to differ. He spots the trains and notes down the time, every one of them. He nods his head as he counts the number of coaches on the goods train and becomes a little disappointed when he notices the guard cabin-the train is not as long as he thought it would be. He wonders in silent amazement as to why there are so many trains clustered around six in the morning. He is worried that the mumbai mail is a little late and he might have to see that train before he takes up his journey to the other end of the house to visit the bathroom. He looks at the unit train standing in eerie silence in the scorching afternoon sun, waiting for signal. When he doesn't stare at the trains, he looks at the chappal rack and the ammi located a few feet away from the rack, right below the stairs. Never used, he wonders why. The sound of a mixie from the kitchen doesn't seem to ring any bells for him.

The little paambu puthu right opposite to the neighbor's house is a sacred place and a scary one as well. Its almost impossible to play cricket along the length of the road. Change of plans, change of orientation. Someone would still hit the ball in that direction, and someone would still have to crawl under the thick growth of bushes and thorns and god knows what else. The open sewage licks the ball and throws it out. Now they have to pitch it up continuously up and down, up and down, and they would go ahead and play. Oh, to hell with cleanliness, there are other things in life...

The ti cycles ground is huge. But we have to cross the tracks! Even when we play on the streets, we have to be careful to not hit the ball hard, or the ball might run off to the tracks. We are not allowed there without adults."They are very dangerous, very fast trains. You cannot go there all alone."How do we even play then? One- pitch-one-hand catches, and the concept of six and out.The incredibly sweet lemon juice is here after the game. The lemon tree at the rear end of the house is huge, and it is beautifully positioned right behind the washing stone and the water tank and the well. Ah, the well.

From the one end of the house, we start to run, and we reach the kolla pakkam in to discover a whole new world of vaazhai marams and goyya marams. The lovely pendulum clock on the way seems to have forgotten about time in this beautiful house too!The creaking bed in the room right next to the clock stacks a lot of pillows one on top of the other is a delight to snuggle in whenever there are rains or too much heat. The wooden windows would blanket the entire house from the mind-numbing agony of the heat outside. The croaking of the frogs in the midst of a monsoon is a reminder to stay inside. Come october, we witness the golu and eat sundal and go the nearby temple to see little kids singing lovely varnams.

They started building a flat there. Too many houses in such a small space!That is practically not a great place to live. Functional, yes. But what can people do, it is all livelihood. They pay good money if you sell the land here. 

செடியாய வல்வினைகள் தீர்க்கும் திருமாலே,

நெடியானே!வேங்கடவா! நின்கோயி லின்வாசல்,

அடியாரும் வானவருமரம்பையரும் கிடந்தியங்கும்,

படியாய்க் கிடந்துன் பவளவாய் காண்பேனே

 Now, there are no houses in that road. Only big apartments. No lemon trees. No life.

Cheers.

ps:
#Very obviously autobiographical. I was in ambattur yesterday, and a flood of memories of the south end street. Lovely times, those.
#Tamizh quatrains are from naalayira divya prabandam. vaguely translates to not wanting anything materialistic and wanting only the lord's feet.


பெருமாள் திருமொழி-678 and 685