Graciously 'Grand'

There’s the bird-like peck and kiss of course, mostly seen at airports. There’s the old-fashioned ‘picking up the dust’ gesture mostly insisted upon by parents to their children, who have to bend down and touch the feet of their elders.
This has now become a half hitch, when you touch someone’s knees, or the region of your heart, neck, eyes, or forehead.This could be called a Reiki salute, awakening the pressure points. Then there are the full-body hugs. At Skills, the one and only place for cultural activists where dancers meet every year to celebrate the body.
There are pre-eminent exponents who do a wonderful bear hug — in the old days it was called the Russian bear dance. You advance, right arm held high, or both hands held high and go for the full body hug. You can if you like massage, pat or thump your partner’s back depending on how well you know him. Some extremely athletic types have been known to run and wrap their knees around each other in what might be described as the Kama Sutra clinch. Everyone accepts it with a gracious generosity.
It reminds us of how some traditions never change. The new outlets of Grand Sweet and Snacks that have suddenly appeared in different parts of the city continue to be as gracious and generous as the original owner Natrajan used to be when he sat in his little room next to the verandah of the house that he had converted to sell his specially made sweets and savouries at Adyar. The one on Spur Tank road is all gleaming glass and steel with tables set inside an air-conditioned hall next to the counters selling the items.
So, for a moment you feel disoriented. You miss the mela-like atmosphere that prevails during the ‘season’ when maamis in their gorgeous silk saris and diamonds flashing from every ear-lobe and discreetly swinging on their ample bosoms fight to get their orders taken by the bevy of young women in nylon saris, who flit between the back of the house, where cooks toil over bubbling vats of pure ghee and the front of the house, where the one single accountant adds up the bills and calls out the numbers on their tickets. “I make only just enough for one day,” Natrajan used to say, while he wrote his daily bits of homely wisdom that appeared as advertisements in the local newspapers — his form of advertising. These included nuggets of health tips that always seemed to have neem leaves and pure ghee as part of the cure. And of course there was always the free ‘prasad’ that was served in small leaf cups with a plastic spoon.
We are happy to report that though the Spur Tank road outlet is now modernised and anaesthetised, there are no friendly flies for instance, or vendors at the door waiting to sell you flowers and fruits, the hospitality is still as wonderful as ever. They even served payasam on Natrajan’s birthday and as for the rest, the murukus, the thattais, the podis, pickles and of course the vast array of sweets are as grand as ever.
Things do change in Chennai and yet they retain their original sweetness. Happy New Year to all!