I walk with A, who has just finished school and is probably taking a break year from college. Every few meters up the ramp on the Anna Nagar Tower, we would witness a pair of feet on the shadow-side. Or a lap and an head. Or just hands entwined and legs. Walking forward, it would be a couple. In A, I saw a smirk, and I shared my happiness with him, that love finds more public places these days We had walked down the corner of the Dargah onto the embankment of the Solpur lake. The raised ground hid the enthrall behind, and it only grazed towards us when we reached the bund. It was cold and the drizzle on our shirts had not dried before the rain caught us. We hid behind a shrub, trying to save one side of our bodies, all huddled together. We made the decision to run to the temple, and the rain stopped soon after The fort from the backside In the little I know of Chennai, I tried to see more. A, learnt of the Otteri Naalah, I learnt of Binny Mills and what is happening there now. We both learnt of what Broadway is, drove through the Periamedu market and I understood Chennai’s heat a bit more. There is a lot of names on the walls of the Anna tower, but I curiously found them all in English, and most often names of lovers and friends and other remarks. But this I found uniquely placed. 15G runs to Broadway / Parrys from MMDA Colony. The nonfunctional lift room on top of the tower now, now remembering names of visitors I boarded everyday from opposite the Anna Nagar West depot for atleast 4 years. I travelled mostly in the big 10 - 13 seaters, yellow and chuggling along (chuggy - like a good old enfield and juggling). I have a collection of photos going back all those years, of colourful seats and passengers on the share autos At the corner of Broadway depot, sacks, or ‘sacku pais’ dry on the footpath next to the market We walk through two pillars, made with grand intentions seemingly, but nothing joined them together, no gate, no compound, just an imagined arch… on what was filled with smooth rocks and marsh. Rocks smoothened on what once flowed there. Maybe blue and green in colour, going by what the water in the nearby well looks like. The two pillars I’ve written about what the magic of the water felt like on week 18-19. This photo shows a bit more clear what that magic is. Straight lines are what humanity desires. Straight poles, straight wires, straight buildings, flat floors, and flat ground. It is funny that ground is also a unit of measurement in tamil. A flattened ground with the previous level of soil visible at the bottom of the electricity poles Tilling implements rest on what is grassland now, and what was farmland before, what is to be? We will know soon. It is right next to the Solpur lake, farming is not permitted, neither are layouts JCB side Smooth side Straight lines of weeds and grasses, tilled by the unintentional treads of the machine of this decade A Nizam era drain path, through which a first order stream flowed once. Now it is a road. Was it both a road and a stream? Decades of cartwheels have driven paths onto the hard laterite above the Naubad basin Lakes exist so wells can access ground water. Or atleast they used to. Now lakes exist in cities so they can directly be accessed by machines. Machines access so that humans have running water in homes. Now machines also serve other machines. Chaukandi looks majestic from this side. As if the hillock is crowned. It is indeed a crown. The Ashtoor toombs can be seen Marakal Lake with layouts right up to the boundary ‘Lakeview’, notice how close the layouts begin from the lake. I found myself tired and lazy to run beyond 3kms this week in Bidar, I think that my supplement routine - B12, D and Calcium make a big difference. ...

S asks: ‘Am I in the clouds? because I can’t see it’. A question that I find myself lost in. I can’t put my finger on it, but it is a beautiful question. You can see when you are not in the clouds, I think. I will spend countless seconds thinking about this. Me, S and N had biked to a betta in Chintamani, we walked where only donkeys and sheep seemed to have, and touched water that only caterpillar poop seemed to have touched. On the way to Channapatna from Ramnagara, there is the Kengal Aanjaneya temple, where the women of Manesiri had put up a stall Turtles in the temple pond I noticed a few months ago that MS Palya is Mohammed Sab Palya, on the plaque at the circle. The MS Palya - Vidyaranyapura - Attur - Yelahanka appears clearly segregated along religious and class lines. Mosque and meat shops on one side, and narrow streets and small homes are clustered far away from streets with cars and sidewalks and wide buildings. A street close to the MS Palya junction At the junction I’ve not run as much as last week. But I am happy that the desire to run has not reduced. Waking up earlier has also given a sense of comfort in what i’ve begun to establish as routines. At the Doddabommasandra kere. From a run. Left. At the Doddabommasandra kere. From a run. Right. Citthiram Pesuthdai, is my third film in attempting to close read Mysskin’s films. I watched Anjaathey and Yuddham Sei before this. His characters are so complicated, that they are real, they are true, and represent moral dillemas that would turn my gut, like he intends them to. Save my sister or the young boy whose sister was raped and killed? Marry the love of my life or let her know that her widowed father used to visit sex workers? I am dumbstruck by the moral spine that these characters show in all their fibrously grey writing, and Mysskin has earned a fan. Sangeetha shared that she is a fan of Mysskin’s films, which led me to watch these Anjaathey Yuddham Sei Citthiram Pesuthadi I learnt that the cult popular song Vaalameenukkum Vilangumeenukum, a song that I’ve never spent time listening to the lyrics of, but i’ve heard for all the years of my life…is from Citthiram Pesuthadi… https://youtu.be/PMi42cz5j2U ...

At the entrance of Kolar, I find this banner. In the possible decade that this banner has been up, the image of a Bulldozer/earthmover and the text ‘A great movement’ have acquired very many different meanings I realised after reaching the entry ramp to the Chennai - Blr expressway that bikes are banned. It was not enforced on the approach from bangalore, possibly because I entered it from the Satellite Town Ring Road. But I wonder what the value of banning bikes is, if the inability to maintain expressway speeds is the problem, why not ban bikes of a certain speed-power class? ...

The week rushes, through some amount of anxiety and masked existentialism. I realise that the only habit I’ve realised in the past few months is of escaping the city. I wake up to an empty home, complete with the all the remnants of an unwilling night. Unwilling because the only resident does not do anything willingly - he gives into Netflix, because it a captive companion in the house. He gives into a messy bed and cupboard, full with clothes of yesterday, the day before and a few from the week before. The bed even hosts diversity in cleanliness: the clean refuse to get folded, the unclean refuse to be washed until smelt: Bangalore’s weather gives me an excuse, and i wonder how my room would have looked like in Chennai… I could talk in Tamil, curse at my friends maybe, or maybe hangout without it being in a fancy Indiranagar equivalent. The local tea shop or a ride would be possible, but then my friends in Chennai don’t have a job yet, the few in blore do, making them freer. ...

I have been noticing closed wells in the city, and I wonder how differently these neighbourhoods were, when these borewells were initially constructed. A borewell, somewhere SFS 208, Yelahanka New Town I wrote about my ‘zest-lessness’ and my escapes with karmoda in biking to escape I drove to Chennai for what else would I be upto in bangalore? The new highway is empty, and the Satellite Twon Ring Road is helpfull. I can reach Yelahanka faster in the city than reach Annanagar in Chennai after I enter the city. The Poonamallee - Maduravoyal - Koyambedu stretch can be hot! ...

Chithhapa and L who had forgotten to bring her chappal In Akkaraipatti, I was visiting to have lunch with relatives who had prayed and sacrificed to Muniyappan in a Muniyappan Kovil by the bank of the Thirumanimuthhar (pronounced thiru-mani-muthh-aaru). My Chithhappa and his kid took us to show the river a bit more downstream from the Temple. I saw so many wells this side of Mallasamudram, that I’ve never noticed inside the Town. The Town is largely filled with weaving occupations, something I note with Paavadis in Weekly Note 15. Flowing to the brim and to the brim it has flowed for the past few years. It carries the sewage of Salem City and joins the Kavery later above Karur Another Muniyappan Kovil near the banks, I wonder how so many are there close to each other A well near the river, full with the rains. 1. The Muniyappan temple. 2. Photograph of Chithhapa and L. M says that all across the region, Kelangu, Rice etc have been replaced by Coconut in the last 50 years. Notice the scale of the Orchard east of the river. The Kaveri has apparently had the same happen upstream as well Driving back from Mallasamudram, I chose to forego and go visit Mettur. The initial plan was to enter Karnataka through Malai Mahadeshwara Betta, Kollegal and Kanakapura, but that would have made me very late, so I just chose to visit Mettur. I’ve never been there, but was surprised by how industrial the town is. ...

Bangalore has its skies returned from the kala of the karmodas. They will come back soon. Aruvu had its annual meeting, Aruvu turned a year sometime in April. It was a weekend of parties, of new homes and of new years. I have not danced this much in a year nor have I slept so well in many weeks. ...

It drizzled for sometime. It was cold for sometime and it was clear for sometime. It was an all pleasant evening all along from Channapatna to Nelamangla to Yelahanka this saturday. I had the privilege of maps that allowed me to take long, thin windy roads on hillocks and downhill from villages onto valleys. The jasmine tree in front of Aruvu fell We heard a sharp cracking sound, almost like the sound of thunder and then heard the tree hit the roof. The atleast 30 foot tall Jasmine tree in front of YNC fell. We were shocked and went out to realise that that the compund wall had taken most of the hit and the top was resting on the sloped roof of YNC. ...

I would shudder intensely as soon as I started, the shudder would pass down to my karmoda’s handle - only a small moment of instability and then I would pick up speed back again. In the last 250 kms to Bangalore after Anantpur, I must have stopped atleast 4 times to drink some tea to warm myself up, but everytime, I would shut off the engine, think for a minute if i really wanted to open my luggage for that would wet my devices. Reaching home faster was more important - I would decide to ride away again, starting with shudders and then getting into the groove with the wet wind. ...

I drove on my bike to Bidar from Yelahanka. I reached Bidar as midnight came. The moon had just been covered by clouds, and I’d driven into the quiet of the city, even more quieter when on the new Humnabad Highway, which was just me, another car and a satisfying amount of reflectors on the lane markings. I started at 6 in the morning from Yelahanka, and by the end of the journey had been driving for 18 hours, with a few long stops inbetween to skip the mid-day heat of the Deccan. ...