I didn’t often understand what they meant when someone said, “love me for what I am.” Sometimes they do mean that, but I think what they usually mean is this – “I am absolutely ordinary and without imagination and without anything interesting to say or worthwhile to do. Please love me for my trivialities. Please find my most ordinary gestures adorable, and do be charmed when I do the silliest things in a meaningful manner.”
Ok, I exaggerated, but not without inspiration. It’s the movie posters in Chennai. Without going into the details of the classification, I’ll describe one class of posters – A middle aged man not much worth looking at does something completely trivial (drinks water, eats food, takes a nap (supposedly with a childlike sweetness)) while the beutiful heroine adores him with her loving glance, smitten by his charm.
Chennai’s a dead city painted in yellow and black, with patches of dull creamy white here and there and the roadsides mostly filled with the constant green of the leaves. Sometimes it makes me despair when I am walking on a main road to see the world around me in so much of yellow and black.
And then there are the people! They understand nothing except Tamil. Half the men wear white lungis worn-out and made a dull white by the pollution (and subsequent washings) of the city. Their clothes are the epitome of lack of imagination. There is only so much that you can do with white lungis. Nobody in Chennai seems to be trying anyway.
The women. All of them dress too much alike. The general beauty quotient, needless to say, is low.
The sky is mostly covered with clouds. I never seem to catch any blue of the sky or the dark grays of the cloud, and I listen to the patter of the rain mostly lying in my bed early in the morning, half awake and half asleep, unable to decide whether to go out and have a look or not. The clouds form interesting patterns though, and for a long time I have been looking for a painting that captures this captivating movement of clouds, without much success so far.