Selvam Speaks

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...