Chennai...my new home

Although I was born in Chennai, I grew up in Mumbai and never ever imagined myself settling in Chennai. I still remember the time when my parents thought I was old enough to be sent out of the house to be married to an eligible Tam Bram. And so the search began. One of my biggest condition was the "Eligible Boy" shouldnt be from Chennai. However destiny had its way and I fell head over heals over the eligible boy whose native was Chennai. So Chennai became my "Pungunda Veethu".

My misgivings and misconceptions about Chennai slowly changed as I began to stay there. But I did realise there was a sea-change in my life. The sea-change could not only be attributed to "marriage" itself but also to the new place. I realised that I no longer would get served idlis and dosais in bed at 8:00 in the morning. To begin with, 8:00 am was no longer the time I could wake up. Wake-up time was close to 6:00am. I realised I could no longer scream "Amma.....breakfast". Even if I was to, whose ears would it fall on. I realised by 8:00 am, half a day was over in Chennai. Life was so much in contrast to Mumbai. Girls wearing "malli poo" in their neatly gelled and combed hair were already at work, lalitha sahasranam playing in the background, children off to school while I was still trying to rub my eyes and wake up. Slowly and steadily started getting used to my new life and didnt know that one day I would really begin to love this setup.

Last night I saw my husband off at the Bangalore airport. I kept waving him goodbye till I could see him very faintly and soon he was gone. I always found an array of emotions at the airport. Some smiling, gleaming faces waiting with excitement, some sore eyes bidding their dear ones goodbye. As I traveled back home, I couldnt but keep thinking about him. I came back home only to find it empty. Although my husband is very quiet this silence was almost deafening. I didnt realise when my eyes skipped a blink and many a winks. All night I kept dreaming about my dear husband. I woke up early to the birds chirping outside but something within me kept stopping me from getting up. It was almost that I didnt want to wake up to the reality that my husband was indeed gone for two weeks. As I rolled my eyes in bed, I missed the beautiful smile that woke me every morning. I missed the peck on my cheek wishing me good morning. Although I never fancied cooking, i missed going to the kitchen and making coffee for my husband, packing his lunch-box, giving him breakfast.