Selvam Speaks

We live in a time of heightened political, social, and even psychological polarization. Our views and opinions have become extremely divided, making it harder for us to find a common ground in all walks of life.  This is why I feel compelled to talk about so-called revolutionary Tamil talk shows— Neeya Naana , Vaa Tamizha Vaa , and others—that significantly shape our beliefs, perceptions, and reasoning. These shows are consumed by millions across platforms and hold immense influence in Tamil communities worldwide. Why Did I Decide to Write This? One day, while casually scrolling through my Facebook feed, a clip from Neeya Naana popped up. The conversation was short, crisp, and engaging.  Curious, I continued scrolling and more such feeds appeared. All the content shown on the feed revolved around relationships, gender issues, societal norms, stereotypes, cultural conflicts, etc.  While some of the content was indeed thought-provoking, others left me wondering, “Would som...

My recent visit to Parvathamalai stirred a deep reflection on how profoundly social media can reshape our world—sometimes for the better, but often at a cost. I first set foot on this sacred hill in 2016. Almost a decade later, in February 2025, I returned, only to find a place transformed almost beyond recognition. Back then, the quaint village of Thenmathimangalam—nestled at the base of the hill—had just a handful of shops. It exuded a rustic charm, untouched and serene. I still remember sipping a cup of tea made with rich, creamy milk. As someone who rarely drinks tea or coffee, I surprised myself by having a second cup. The memories from that first visit remain vivid and dear. (You can still read my 2016 blog post on Parvathamalai for a glimpse of that time.) The Winds of Change Change, as we know, is inevitable. But some changes leave a sense of loss that’s hard to reconcile with. My recent trip to Parvathamalai was one such experience. Thenmathimangalam is now dotted with numero...

It was Christmas eve.  As I stood in front of the mirror, I suddenly realized I needed a haircut before the celebration. So, I grabbed my bike keys and started off to Mayilaudy, a nearby village where I can find a salon.  Halfway there, it began to drizzle. I managed to stop at the nearest salon I could find to escape what felt like the showers of blessing. As I stepped in, I was taken aback. The place was empty, except for two North Indian men, seemingly waiting for customers. As I found out the salon is owned by them, I hesitated for a moment if I should enter or step back to find another place. It’s not that I hate their presence in this southern part of the country, but communication was always a challenge when explaining the style I wanted. Plus, my preconceived ideas about their hygienic practices - however unfounded - made me uneasy.  The rain slowly picked up its pace and it began pouring. I had no other option but to surrender my head to the Northies. I initiated...

It was a busy afternoon in Chennai, I was making my way to the office at a scorching noon around 2 PM. Walking through the expansive North Parade road, I found the merciless sunlight somewhat bearable. After a few strides, I came across a fruit shop near Montfort School, St. Thomas Mount and I decided to savour a bowl of watermelon to quench my thirst and beat the heat.   I noticed that some of the Kindergarten students were already leaving the school, being picked up by their parents. While munching on the melons, I saw a six-year old boy dressed up in uniform, holding a long pink candy in his hand.  He seemed deep in thought, his gaze fixed on the stack of candies before him, as if he were reconsidering his choice. Meanwhile, the shop owner who was in a foul mood was yelling at another customer.  The little boy came close to me and asked in a friendly tone, “Anna, can you put this one back on the stack and get me the yellow candy?” Slowly, taking a bite on the melo...

In a world full of people constantly sacrificing happiness over fulfilling job expectations, accumulating wealth, and living a respectful life that the society demands, finding individuals who embrace an effortless and relaxed way of life has become a rare and remarkable phenomenon. Muthukumar, a ticket distributor for the Tamil Nadu State Transportation Corporation (TNSTC), appears to be in his late forties or early fifties. Clad in a light blue shirt and dark blue pants, he stands about 5 feet 3 inches tall, with light brown skin and a fair complexion. His clean-shaven face, adorned with an ordinary mustache and neatly combed salt-and-pepper hair, radiates warmth. His most striking feature, however, is his ever-present, welcoming smile—a smile that seems to instantly connect him with every passenger who steps onto his bus. I first encountered this incredible personality during a journey from Namakkal to Kollimalai. From the moment he greeted me with a polite nod, I sensed there w...