It was in May 1952 that I came to Chennai. The Chennai citizen should have felt very happy that day, for another reason. It rained that day in Chennai.

My cycle reached Chennai only four days after I reached. The word cycle is a synonym for the motorcycle these days. It meant nothing other than the pedal powered bicycle in those days. One has to specifically say ‘bicycle’ nowadays.

Well, I went to the Central railway station to receive my cycle from the parcel office. I was really thrilled to see that the tyres were still inflated at least to an extent. It was dark then and I lit the oil lamp and fitted it on the lamp hook in the handlebar and was about to pedal my way back home. A strong arm stopped me. It has to be strong. For it was the long arm of the law. I was confused. ‘Why are you stopping me?’ I fumbled for words. ‘The light is burning,’ I continued, not able to understand the reason why I could have been stopped. The cycle light was in fact burning like a flambeau.

‘Walk to the police station,’ told the long arm of law firmly. ‘Why? Why should I? What did I do?’

‘What? Is this not a one-way? Are you not riding the cycle from the ‘no entry’ side?’

I really didn’t know what was meant by one-way. In the place where I was born, it was not possible to see more than three or four vehicles plying on any important road, at the same time. There would be a few pedestrians and of course an equal number of stray cattle, even on the main roads. That was the standard and unchanging scene always, throughout the day.

I went to the Police Station and made a written statement affirming that I was new to the city and undertaking that I would be present in the Saidapet court the next day, without fail. It was then that I came to know that the Central Railway Station came under Madras 3, which was Park Town.

Ashoka Mithran

Retro Chennai from Asoka Mithran looks back at Chennai, in fact the Madras as it was known and existed. The column traces the city's lifescape at various points of time.