Oh for the days of my youth! Misspent, no doubt, but happy nevertheless. The days when Chennai was Madras to us and Pattinam to the old folks. When we had two grandmothers, a great grandmother and a host of great aunts to spoil us with thengai burfis! When cars meant Morris Minors, Ford Prefects and Landmasters!
It was the mid 60s and we were one of the first few residents of what was then Urur village. I distinctly remember the evening when we assembled and sat on the earthen floor outside what is now the Shastri Nagar Ladies’ Association, and some dignitary, whose name escapes me, declared the changed name of our locality to Shastri Nagar after our then Prime Minister. Or even earlier, when we heard the news of Pandit Nehru’s death over our ‘Telerad’. Our radio was one of the biggest in the colony and a bunch of us would gather round it of an evening to listen to the news or crowd round on a holiday to hear V.K. Chakrapani and Vizzy comment on Test cricket.
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