The Stolen Heart

Velachery — Perungudi — Taramani —

Shiela watched from the window as the train hastened past Perungudi. Mammoth sized buildings lay everywhere, solid gray concrete, all meaning business, no flip flap designs about. Howard Roark would be proud, she thought and broke into a smile. Beside the huge piles of concrete and glass, newer buildings were in construction, branching out from the ground. She thought of an inverted Banyan tree with pillars reaching out to the sky, defying gravity.

Pillars rising up from swamps and marshes, men joining work, some with gloves on their hands, and some with a helmet to sport as safety gear. The pillars grew tall, and iron bars branched further like tentacles, clawing for space into the sky. A scarecrow was sticking onto the tallest pillar. Hands wide apart and sporting a helmet.

Why would a scarecrow need a helmet, of all things, she mused. And just when she started to look away, the scarecrow moved. A sudden chill ran down her spine. The scarecrow at first dropped down it’s hands, looked left, and jumped onto the floor and dusted it’s shirt. Of course! she slapped her forehead in laughter, and breathed out loud, it was a worker, not a scarecrow! Funny, she thought, how we assume things which never are.

The train was now slowing down into Thiruvanmiyur station. The next few series of events happened simultaneously. A crowd pushed it’s way out, a crowd gushed in with all animosity, people trampled on seats that had emptied, people fought over seats that were now occupied. Nothing seemed voluntary, everyone had to go where the crowd was headed. Things just happened like a water in a stream. A few seconds later, the train scurried out of the station.

— Thiruvanmiyur — Indira Nagar — Kasturba Nagar — 

A lady sat next to her. Shiela pocketed her phone and observed the new girl in her row. The stranger looked the person Shiela might have looked like a month ago. Newcomer, looking dubious, and definitely out of place. Nervously, the stranger looked out, back at her mobile phone, looked back out and back at her mobile phone. Then, she looked at Shiela.

“Can you tell me when we reach Th.. Thiru…” (She was looking into the phone for the address)

“Thirumayilai.” Shiela completed, nonchalantly.

“Yes Yes Thirumaelai… Madam, You are born and brought up in Chinnai, yes?”

“No. I have been here a month only. I’m not from this part of the country.”

“Really! Me too!”

“So I see..”

“So, what do you do here!” she remarked, keeping her mobile into her rather bulky purse.

“I work in a private company here.”

“Oh then you must work late shifts too!”

“Yes, sometimes. But it is quite alright.”

“Really? Matlab, you can return home in the night and it is safe and all?”

“Yes. The city really means no harm. It is pretty safe out here.”

“Back from Delhi.. from where I come from, we don’t even wear gold jewellery outside, because there.. are.. thiefs!” she said, pronouncing the word wrongly, with shock all over her eyes. Shiela cringed over the language some people spoke at the national capital!

— Kotturpuram — Greenways Road — Mandaiveli — Thirumayilai —

The crowd built up and then, the talk reduced, everything became a case of shoving someone here and pulling someone there, to get a place to place a foot in. The ladies coach, as always was the noisiest of the whole train. Fighting women, their true colours shining and for all to see. After an entertaining round of altercation between two women, Thirumayilai was reached.

The stranger thanked her, got down and wandered away with the crowd. Shiela looked about, the crowd was sparse, and now, she had time to ponder. What really made the city what it was. Safety? The mutual respect people showed for the other? Or was it the advantage that a crowded conservative metropolis showed?

— Lighthouse — Thiruvallikeni — Chepauk — 

Initially, she had her bit of qualms over people not conversing the most spoken language of India (Hindi), but slowly, she reconciled and warmed up to the place. Everyone minded their own businesses, and that was probably one good thing about the place. People would do what they pleased, not bother what the other did, and yet, reach out an arm in case of need. This was probably the city she most wanted to be in, the city that stole her heart.

Ah a view of the sea, past the tree tops, the British buildings, the fine sand and the glittering huge mass of water, all living in tandem. Yes, they were all living beings to her. They all reciprocated the language of an ancient love, the people had for the city. There existed a charm about the place, something she never would be able to explain why. Perhaps, it was the way, in which she moved from a swamp to a modern swanky IT corridor to a British colony to the sea and finally to the harbour, something that’d show the timeline in what was otherwise conceived to be a stereotype. To her, the whole city was a museum, something that could be appreciated only by a few eyes.

 

— Chintadripet — Park —

Forget the question of leaving the city. She wasn’t even going to budge an inch. She decided, that nothing is going to take her away from the place, except, maybe marriage. She mused, not knowing what the future held out to her. There was a mystery about a woman’s life. A contingency, if it may be called so. Today, she was there, but no idea where she would be tomorrow. Was that a sad fact, or a thrilling thing to look forward to, only time would tell.

— Chennai Fort — Chennai Beach.

The train slowed down as it neared its destination. She stood by the door and hopped off the train, and proceeded to walk to the exit. She felt immune to the eyes of chauvinistic men glaring at her. She then fished into the handbag for her mobile phone. “Oh shit!” she muttered as she realized what had happened. She turned around and ran back into the train, looked about her seat, rummaged through all the empty chips and popcorn packets that lay strewn about the floor. Hatred clutched her heart, shook her love for the city, as she stood there sweating and tensed. Someone had stolen her mobile phone, and she had absolutely no idea who might have done that.

Picture Source : The Hindu

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