The Month That Was - March

This sultry, humid, melting people’s resolve heat of April has made me yearn for the month that has passed us by. It was the last of our cool, dry weather with the evenings bringing with it pleasant winds from the Bay of Bengal (thank god for that water body) chasing away the truant temperatures and letting us still walk around with a modicum of decorum. Case in point the below picture.

My filled to bursting social calendar of March was another reason why the month was memorable. Let me see, since I have had Ana Kutti a typical social month would be hanging out with close knit friends for starters and biriyani washed down with shandys or beer or plain water with the conversation flowing freely to distract from other realities (running behind the said child/children with their dinner, trying to stop them from scribbling or destroying a toy, managing their sleep times...ho hum You get the drift). It was all fun in a way only people who have friends with whom they can let their hair down can understand. Still, there is a certain lure to spending time with besties and friends on an adult level.  

 Anyway, I am digressing as usual. So what were my pit stops in this eventful month? A grand wedding befitting our Chennai page 3 was the first on the list. After being complacent for almost 3 years about my body and the kind of wardrobe I maintained, this engagement put me in a fix. I hardly had clothes that were in vogue and that should have put the pre-Anakutti me in a tizzy. But I didn’t have time for all that jazz. So I donned my pushing-40s-so-I-don’t-care hat and went ahead with a designer sari that was ermm almost two seasons old. It turned out that I needn’t have bothered. My brush with said crowd was so fleeting and distant that I didn’t have time to speculate nor be worried about being speculated upon.

What of course was a joyous speculation was the drool worthy spread at the ITC Grand Chola where the festivities took place. ITC Grand Chola has a reputation for serving excellent food in all their restaurants, but that they also out did themselves in banquets and buffets which is one area where even good hotels tend to get negligent, was what I had the fortune to experienced that day. I enjoyed every bit of the lavish spread and sent a quick thanks upwards for the long, flowing Indian garment which could hide many irregularities in an erring gourmand’s disposition.

Next in line was attending a play at the Museum Theatre to watch an unexceptional portrayal of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Though many artists were diligent in their act, the ill-fitting prose and accent and Juliet’s poor voice modulation was hard to bear especially as the play ‘bore’ on (pun intended) for a good three hours. The good thing, as is always the case, was spending some time with my besties. We not only caught up on some gupshup but also got to savour Cafe Coffee Day’s samosas and sandwiches after ages. They were as I remembered them to be – thrifty in quality and quantity, yet delivering on just the right side of tasty to divert one’s attention from all that can happen over coffee. After the play we had a very satisfying dinner at Hotel Ashoka which has consistently been producing piping masala dosas, pooris and fluffy idlis to theater enthusiasts among others.

This was followed almost immediately by Tus"s (S's class mate) birthday dinner. He was hitting an important milestone and a few friends had been called to surprise him. It was a lovely evening, fitting my description of spending time with good friends over lip smacking biriyani and hot idyappams and the ubiquitous birthday cake which I must say was terrific. Tus and his attentive wife Su made sure the food and drinks flowed just like the unhurried, smooth glide of warm butter through the contours of crisp, toasted bread.

I had the opportunity to go to Ciclo Cafe (been meaning to visit it for a long time now) with my school friends. Though the attendance looked strong on our Whatsapp group, it dropped to single digits by the time we met. Which was not all bad actually. The ones who met were similar minded and we had a jolly good time talking about all and sundry. But I would be remiss if I were not to mention the food in Ciclo. I am tempted to write that it is a bit overrated but truth be told I never do review places which I have visited just once. So I shall reserve my comments until I go again without such desired distraction. Suffice to say, the menu had its moments.

This was followed by dad-in-law’s birthday dinner at KrishnaVilasam. I don’t mind writing about this restaurant one bit, even though I have been here too only once. I was not impressed with anything they gave. The orders were long in coming, the food not outstanding and the service very average. The place was not even crowded when we went for the bumbling, apologetic service. Considering the surfeit of idli/dosa joints in Chennai, I don’t think I shall be beating a path to their doors in a jiffy.

There was a close friend’s birthday dinner on the lawns of The Madras Gymkhana Club. The cool breeze and the light evening complimented by fantastic kebabs and starters, peppered with anecdotes and harmless ribbing was the highlight. In fact it was the kind of evening that I so miss in this balmy, mercurial month. I was so happy to be meeting up with fellow shenanigans that I donned my strappy heels and leggy jeans. Mum dearest baby sat our Ana kutti and S and I almost felt like we were on a date.

We wrapped up the month with again a relaxed dinner hosted by the husband’s school friends JA&SA in their warm, artistic house in honour of a schoolmate who was visiting from abroad. The dinner, as always gave me the opportunity to soak in SA’s pleasing and imaginative use of space, filling up the walls with her own art work - oils and water color paintings punctuated with exquisite decorative plates that are available on her FB page.

One would forgive me for looking rather unkindly at this month, where the highlight as of now has been me going on all fours in our building's dusty car park searching for Ana kutti's ball. All that I have to show for the effort are my sweat soaked, dirty clothes and greasy palms. That page 3 wedding with it's coiffed attendees seem a world away.