In my family, there are three people – mom, dad and me. We celebrate birthdays a little differently. Neither do we cut a cake nor do we go out to eat. We just put on new clothes and have homemade paneer butter masala and naan. That wasn’t how I wanted my 22nd birthday to be. So, I made a plan.
I’d been working for a few months then, and (by not partying much!) had saved up quite a bit. Chennai had been on my bucket list for years, thanks to all those Tamil films that showed beautiful temples and beaches. So, as soon as my leave was approved, I booked the flight tickets and packed my suitcase.
It would be my first solo trip. The wait began.
23rd May, 2019
After showing my Aadhar card and flight ticket to the armed personnel at the entry gate, I walked into the Pune airport. It was 4 a.m. I looked around for Indigo’s check-in counter and handed my cabin baggage in. With 2 hours to kill, I called up my boyfriend. The sweet guy that he is, Mr. Fauji spoke to me for almost an hour. I read for the next 45 minutes.
The sky was greyish when I boarded my flight. Luckily, I had a window seat and could click as many pics as I wanted to (on flight mode, of course!). Beside me was an Indian guy with his boisterous American girlfriend. I was damn sleepy and just needed some shut-eye. But thanks to that lady’s loud voice, sleep became elusive. To top it all, I started experiencing horrible pain in my ears. Shoot, I’d forgotten to stuff them with cotton!
The plane touched the skies as the sun woke up from its slumber. My mood was melancholic. I was sad to leave my city behind.
The beautiful air hostesses walked up and down the aisle, pushing trolleys full of food. My stomach couldn’t bear the torture. It started growling loudly, forcing me to buy a tin of cookies for ₹150. I didn’t have the exact change so I gave ₹200 to the air hostess. She didn’t have ₹50 so she told me that she would give it later. I thought, “Well okay, I’ll remind her after a few minutes.” But then, she started acting as if she had forgotten about my money. I didn’t want to shut up, especially because it seemed she would never return it. On Pune’s public transport buses, the conductors give you your money as soon as they get it. Why couldn’t she do that?! My evil and negative twin popped up. ‘Will she even remember your face in the sea of passengers? You’re never going to see your hard-earned money again!’ I believed her.
As we neared the Chennai airport and descended, the blue waters of the Bay of Bengal became one with the blue sky.
Then, something unexpected happened. The air hostess handed me a ₹50 note. She had remembered!
It was a good and positive start to the trip. But little did I know that the bad stuff was waiting in the wings.
I was warmly welcomed by an idol of Lord Nataraja (Lord Shiva in a dancing pose) at the Chennai airport. And I couldn’t stop myself from clicking a selfie with one of the most revered gods in Tamil Nadu. (Please don’t mind my looks; this is how anybody looks after having a sleepless night!🙆)
This was just the beginning. Lord Shiva would grant me his darshan many times during the trip.
Onboard the flight, the pilot had announced that our bags would be available on Belt No. 1. So, I walked to that conveyor belt and waited for my suitcase. Minutes passed, but my bag was nowhere to be seen. My co-passengers had picked their bags up and were leaving. My evil twin reared her head again. Panic seized me. I started getting a really bad feeling. ‘Surely the officials have misplaced your bag’ she hissed. But I wasn’t going to hand over the remote control to my twin. I was all on my own, and had to take charge of my life.
I spotted a person wearing a tee that had the logo of Indigo Airlines. I accosted him and explained my predicament. He asked me, “Madam, where are you coming from?” I said, “Pune”. “Madam, the luggage from Pune is on Belt No. 2….” He laughed sheepishly and apologised for the inconvenience.
Burning with anger, I ran to the second conveyor belt. And there was my beauty – a grey Aristocrat suitcase – going round and round on the conveyor belt. I grabbed it from the belt, held it to my bosom and shed a tear.
While walking to the exit, I was graced with another glimpse of Lord Shiva. This idol was startlingly beautiful than the previous one.
I had booked a cab on MMT and called the driver up. He said, “I’m on the way, madam.” I must have waited for an hour.
Then, the cab arrived and I was off. On my way, I whizzed past the OTA, Chennai. It had such a regal bearing!
We arrived at a dilapidated building, which was supposed to be a Fab hotel. Even the driver was confused for a moment. But he confirmed that the location was correct. My bags were unloaded and I was all alone.
I went up to a makeshift reception desk. A man with spectacles, brown hair and a white beard sat there. He told me to wait for 30 minutes as the rooms were being cleaned. I needed to pee badly but controlled it somehow. Meanwhile, I called up my localite friend Lakshman. “I’m running some errands for my mother. I can meet in an hour or two”, he said.
After an eternity, a guy escorted me to my room and kept my luggage inside. The building appeared shady and none of the rooms seemed occupied. The room further heightened my suspicion. I was abhorred at the sight of the washroom, which apparently hadn’t been cleaned in ages. There was no way I could live there! That’s what I told the Fab Hotel customer care people, too. They agreed to cancel the booking and give me a refund.
Wheeling my suitcase out of the building, I stopped a guy walking on the footpath. I asked him if he knew any 4- or 5-star hotel in the vicinity. He mentioned Maris and Chola. An auto wala, who was listening to our conversation, offered to take me there.
But when I boarded the auto, I realised that I didn’t have any cash left. I told him to stop at an ATM. However, as luck would have it, every ATM in that locality had run out of cash. Finally, I found one that had money.
With crisp notes in my purse, I reached the Maris hotel. It was a swanky building in Mylapore and had Audis parked in front of the entrance. I asked the lady at the reception, “Can I see the room first?” She agreed. A bell boy showed me two rooms, one of which I instantly took a liking to. It was as big as a suite and had a full-length window overlooking the highway.
I could take it by paying an advance amount of ₹20,000. “Politicians and movie stars stay at our hotel, madam. That’s why we charge so much”, the receptionist said. Thank God I had that kind of money in my bank account!
The auto wala demanded ₹350 as fare. I knew I was getting swindled but I coughed up the money just to get him off my back. I was escorted to my room. I started unpacking and keeping my clothes in the wardrobe. Just then, I heard the doorbell ring. I opened it to see Lakshman standing outside, grinning. “Lakshman!! How did you know my room number?!” I asked. “I asked the receptionist”, he amusedly replied.
I was so relieved to see him! Words poured out of my mouth. Soon, I had told him everything. “Chennai auto drivers don’t come on meter”, was what he told me. We sat and spoke for a while. Then, I invited him to have lunch with me. But he politely refused as he had to go home for lunch.
Lakshman accompanied me to the in-house restaurant and watched as I ate. “Go home, have your food”, I told him. He said, “You finish eating. I’ll wait.” That gesture really touched me.
After agreeing to drop me at Marina beach that evening, he left. I went back to my room. After a few minutes, the landline phone rang. It was the receptionist. “Madam, a parcel from Mr. Fauji is here. Should I send it to your room?” “Yes, please.” I was overjoyed. Mr. Fauji had sent me this.
Soon, Lakshman arrived on his RE bike. He dropped me at the Marina beach and zoomed off. It was the first time I was seeing a beach. I can still feel the sand under my shoes, hear the lapping of the waves and see the couples making out on the sands.
I took selfies and also asked somebody to click my photo. He felt awkward but obliged. That’s what happens if you go on a solo trip! 🤷
I wanted to buy souvenirs for myself and my friends. I came across a stall selling beautiful conch shells that had designs engraved on them. I asked the stall owner if I could take pics. He was more than happy to oblige.
I also spotted a fisherman’s boat on the sands.
I walked to a nearby dhaba and asked for a packet of chips. The shopkeeper said, “That will be ₹13, madam.” “But the MRP is ₹10!” “We sell it for ₹13 only. Pay ₹13 and take it.” I had to pay as I was hungry. Later, I noticed policemen eating at that dhaba. What an irony!
As Lakshman had suggested, I booked an Ola auto and reached my hotel. I asked the receptionist about the laundry service. “If we collect it in the morning, we’ll give it the same evening”, she said. I went up to my room and ordered Chinese noodles. It wasn’t that great but I had no choice. I switched the TV on and sat watching Tamil songs. My first day in Chennai had come to an end!
Simply Vaishnavi 