When the beach belonged to us

Elliot's Beach was a serene, pristine stretch in the 1980s, a time when things moved more slowly. To escape the heat and take in the refreshing sea breeze, families like ours would visit in the evenings. Vendors would be scattered about selling sundal, murukku, and occasionally ice cream. Most families, including ours, carried homemade snacks and mats to sit on. Watching the sunset, the sky turning shades of orange and pink, was a ritual.

Elliot’s was hardly crowded, and the space was free of the chaos of kiosks. Seniors sat in groups, chatting and laughing, children ran around freely, making sandcastles or chasing waves. The sands were immaculate.


Waking up at 5am to collect shells at Elliot’s Beach was routine for my sister and me. It felt like a longer walk to the water from the road back because there was less erosion then. Going to a movie cost money; visiting the beach cost nothing.

The Karl Schmidt Memorial built in 1930 was not a popular hangout then. The newer Ashtalakshmi Temple (built in 1976) had just started drawing visitors.

One hardly saw beggars along the beach. If there were any, they would approach politely, and people would help out of kindness, but there was no pressure. The area was quieter, less commercialised, and not as crowded, which naturally meant fewer people depending on alms there.

It wasn't long before film directors discovered Schmidt Memorial, and soon it became a popular shooting spot. We would rush to Elliot’s to catch a glimpse of the actors.

By the mid-1980s, Mani Ratnam’s 'Mouna Ragam', K Balachander's 'Punnagai Mannan' and Mohanlal's 'Nadodikkattu' had been shot there. And Elliot’s had become the star of the neighbourhood.