It has been roughly nine years since we landed in the city of dreams - the two of us with a one big suitcase each and one kid half-the size of a case. We walked into an empty apartment on the twelfth floor of a building on a hot June afternoon, physically exhausted, yet high in spirits (Age had not withered us then). Strangely, I seem to remember how the first day in Mumbai unfolded with a lot of detail - insignificant things like the first dress I wore in Mumbai, first road-side sandwich , the first shopping experience in the very Mumbai-sh "DMart", the first person I heard speaking in Tamil in a rather foreign place, the first maid I employed(who promptly quit on me), and of course, the first meal that we ordered (in a non-Swiggy era). Jhumpa Lahiri, in her Pulitzer winning collection "Interpreter of Maladies", insinuates through one of her characters, who reminisces about his first day in America with a new wife - about how bizarre it is that the mundane first...
I wonder why I took so many years to get to this epic. Reflecting back, I think it would have been a hither-imposed fear to read complicated Tamil or the thither- proclaimed flair for everything English, books and royalty included. It just took the first 100 pages of this Kalki’s magnum opus to make me comprehend the irrationality of both the above self and external imposters. I realized how easy it is to read Kalki or how much I’m in love with my Tamil roots, literature and royalty included! If there was anything real about an organic change, it is what Ponniyin Selvan did to me, and I could not but write about it. And, the good news is that, I’m not the only one Ponniyin Selvan has done this to or will do this to. I see the people of Tamilnadu in a new incandescent light, and with a bit of narcissism that I come from the same territory. I’ve always preferred the dusky complexion, but now, I’ve come to love the dark-skinned Tamil women who adorn their wardrobes with ostentati...