Cubbon Park - the literary risk
"Our sambhar may be sweet, our women too forward, our government right-wing, we may have opened the gates to a greater integration with -what the informed rightly call - the North Indies...But sir, at the end of the day, we have Cubbon Park. Your city does not." he said dipping a slice of his kadubu into a cup of liquid jaggery.
I smiled patronizingly. "The reason for that is quite simple sir", I said dusting the sand off my gentle moustache. "You see, a place like Cubbon Park with its deceptive sense of idyll encourages all and sundry to attempt poetry. Even I came within an ace of that this weekend about Eden, Fall of Man and all. Scary, no ? We - the Hindu reading population of Madras - take our role as protectors of our national language quite seriously. That is why we make do with Panagal Park and even build flyovers next to it. Even with that, our boundless imagination sometimes threatens to make us susceptible to poetic afflatus. Then, we sit down and do the crossword and read "This Day that Age" till the impulse passes."
Okay, got to run. Someone a few streets away has apparently won an Oscar.