It was before the then state government decided to change the name to Chennai. Madras, she was without much of the mad rush one witnesses today. A much more peaceful yet aspirational city. For a growing 4th grader, living in Mudichur, 30kms away from the city center, the only solace was his postbox Pin code that read Madras-600048. Lengthy arguments with visiting family that this is Madras, even though we are so far away from the city were supported by that one magical Pin code. The need to own the city started much early as I was being denied the Madras tag coz of the distance. Adyar-Besant Nagar were larger kingdoms that a small ruler from Mudichur had his eyes on conquering one day. The more somebody spoke about other parts of the city, the need to establish Tambaram as the most superior neighborhood kept growing. Love for the city turned into a passion. How can I take more pride in my city? That thought led me to explore my neighborhood. 

My grandfather did the right thing at the right time by gifting me a bicycle, which took me from Manimangalam Lake to Mudichur Lake. From the Adhanaur-Adyar banks to the Peerkanakaranai palm yards. Introducing me to the Vandalur hill, the Mannivakkam temple, and the snakes of Mudichur. The joy of discovering these for myself just opened an entirely new world. Sitting on my lonely terrace staring at the Vandalur hill and witnessing the Tambaram Air force contingent do their practice tours would only motivate me more. Every new train or bus announced to depart from Tambaram would bring joy, look at what my neighborhood has gained would be a sense of ownership and pride. 

It was around the mid-’90s when a double-decker bus got introduced between Tambaram and Broadway, also the same time when the ‘Flying Train’ made its journey between Beach and Thirumayilai. What if we were 30kms away, my father would take us from Tambaram in that double-decker bus, I would be sitting in the front seat getting an aerial view of Mount Road and just reimagined my city. Just near the high court complex have hot Samosas, Jalebi, and the famous Malai Lassi followed by a scrumptious Gujarati Thali at the Mandal. Then walk through the streets of George Town as my mother would narrate how Billa movie scenes could have been shot here, the Armenian church bells, the Kalikambal temple, the GPO, and then enter the beach station holding my brother to fly in a train to be engulfed in the spiritual world of Kabali-Karpagambal. 

In all this the one thing that stood out, is Chennai and her water identity. Every other city can equally talk about its people, food, colors, culture, and more. The more I explored Chennai, the more I realized that wherever I went, I found a lake, ponds, river or if nothing the mighty blue ocean. I understood Chennai had a water story to tell, I wanted to champion and celebrate my city for her water. I made it my life’s ambition to volunteer for India & her Environment and began that journey from Chennai. She has incubated me, given me everything that I could ever ask for and she has accepted me. I just cannot accept that I have only one lifetime to fall in love with this city but have taken it on me to get her the status that she is a Water Capital and not just another metropolis.