my chennai

l live in this city which is like most cities anywhere- government buildings that are monstrosities, civic authorities who don't care , congested roads that cannot support the population, battered women crying silently within their homes and covering their bruises with make up , abused children scared and guilty blaming themselves for whats going on, old abandoned people - squalor and squelch.
So why do i love this city ?I love it coz you can still see green trees stretching their limbs out, the elderly walking around with grand children coz their own children have not abandoned them , simple people who still shout their wares to make a living. I can see temples where people actually come to pray and not just coz its a heritage sight. It has some simple shops where the attendant knows what you like and shows it to you unlike the glossy malls where no one cares a damn. I don't want these things to disappear but i know they will.
Parents of children who proudly say their children are successful abroad will one day sadly go to the home for the elderly. More of the beloved beach will turn into graveyards to bury future generations of dead politicians. More statues of people no body remembers will be put up to insult their memory by covering them in crow droppings.The mute statues do not seem to mind but does someone not get worked up about this desecration.
We will be soon automatons wheeling trolleys of food in aisles nodding at known faces glaring at queue jumpers- hassled , harried and inhuman. The little shop at the end of your road from where Gopal delivers your onion and tomatoes will move away and you will find an air conditioned shop selling you vegetable dehydrated by the air conditioning . Recollect how you felt after a 12 hour flight - that's how they feel even if they are wiped and sprayed with a layer of moisture before the store opens.
I love Chennai for its a city desperately trying to hold on to simple things but this little mite cannot hold out too long and we will all too soon sing the dirge for the city we loved.over cups of decaf in some false ceilinged coffee shop we will moan the passing of the kapi in dubara tumbler.