Chetpet this morning.

The sky over Madras has been dramatic and spectacular over the past week. So unlike the city and its sky.

On that note, may I just say the best 5 seconds of my day everyday is when I cross the foot overbridge at Chetpet Train Station as I stare at the sky towards Beach.

Some days I love this society. Some days I don't. Some days I want to destroy the invasive species called human beings.

Whatever the day though, I love Madras.

So I came back home this evening and looked at the sky over the Chetpet Lake from the Chetpet Train Station. The day is complete.

Sometimes I think about moving to another city. I have thought about Tallinn. And Hanoi. And Helsinki. More closely I have considered moving to Delhi.

Only because I want to know what it will be like to live away from Madras in this stage of my life.

Everytime I think that, I get reminded of that beautiful novel I read many years ago: A Summons to Memphis by Peter Taylor.

I wonder if that's the most Madras story ever.

It's like I want to hate life and love Madras and wonder about circumstances despite being and belonging to this city.

I should read that book again. It must be in my bookshelf. I read that before Kindle happened, I am certain.

I now remember. It was early oughts. And the woman I had befriended at that time had literary ambitions.

So I thought I'd read every Pulitzer winner from the year I was born. And Peter Taylor had won it for A Summons to Memphis.

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