Lust in translation

Imagine having to explain to someone what the smell of filter coffee does to you in the morning. Or why on some days, all you want is curd rice with naarthangai. Or the joys of nongu, which doesn't taste the same when you call it an ice apple. Or those of the many veedhis of Mylai that have managed to cling to a past one finds re-assuring familiarity in. Of moru milagai and molakuzhambu. Grand Snacks and kunguma poo jaangiri. Or how the Hindu doesn't read the same outside of Chennai. Or how after Lakhs and Lakhs came Millions and Millions. But no more.
Of how everyone knows everyone through someone in my big small town.

After a long day's night, you just want to be with what feels like home.