The Original Kutty Story

Based on real-life incidents.

Think of Chennai in the 2000s. Spencer Plaza, Marina Beach, temples, and Udhayam Theatre are still in the picture. But as the number of visiting NRIs and expats (migrants?) grows, so does the demand for fancy food. Treats move from Mathura to the Alsa Mall sandwich shop. But what do Madras loyalists want? This story about six friends from the city will tell you.

Soorya, Govindan, and Sameera had their birthdays in January, just a few days apart. One year, they decided that clubbing the birthday treats made logical sense. Soorya, the clued-in foodie of the group, suggested dinner at a new American restaurant. Apart from Sameera, his friends weren’t too keen on it, but decided to be adventurous for a change. This was going to be a significant departure from the usual get-togethers. Small achievements were celebrated with fresh elaneer at the beach; more important events called for lunch or dinner at Saravana Bhavan. Weekend afternoons were spent playing cricket and gathering at one of the friends’ houses for molaga bajji.

On the appointed evening, an assortment of guests arrived at the American restaurant. Most of them were known only to Sameera. Eyeing the group, she made a quick decision.

‘You know, it wouldn’t be fair to make Soorya and Govindan pay for my friends. Let’s go Dutch!’

Aspiring international student Sairaj picked the cheapest item on the menu — a serving of French fries for Rs 50. Vijay, averse to any coffee that wasn’t made in a traditional South Indian filter and served in brass tumblers, glared at his black coffee. Rajender took one bite of his fusion paneer sandwich, of which he had ordered two, and pushed the plate out of sight. Govindan bit hungrily into a common pizza and realised that it was liberally garnished with two key ingredients he couldn’t stand: mushrooms and garlic. The boys fell into reveries of kaima idli and masala ghee roast, and were relieved when the meal drew to a close.

As Sameera asked for the bill, something shifted in her head. ‘You know, let’s split the bill equally! I think it’s only fair. After all, there will be many such treats!’

Various hearts sank into their owners’ shoes, when they found themselves paying for milk shakes, ice cream sundaes, and burgers they hadn’t consumed. As they tried to slink away after dinner, leaving Sameera to her group, she called out to them.

‘Guys, let’s go to Besant Nagar beach tomorrow! We can watch the sunrise and drink elaneer.’

The magic word won over even the reluctant Sairaj, and plans were made to pick Sameera up at 4 am.

Soorya, Govindan, Vijay, Rajender, and Sairaj gathered on the pavement.

‘What shall we do now? It’s almost 11, no point going home!’

‘Movie at Mayajaal?’

‘Oh yes, let’s try the midnight show.’

‘What about tickets?’

‘We’ll figure it out. Do you want to call Magesh and ask if he wants to join?’

Govindan dialled Magesh’s number.

‘But I am already at Mayajaal!’ announced Magesh. ‘My colleagues wanted to watch this movie, Kutty. It started with the sun rising on the beach and I feel like I’ve been watching it for years. I have a terrible headache now!’

‘Okay, watch another film with us and it will go away. Book tickets for Aayirathil Oruvan!’

‘…’

Govindan ended the call and the five set out for Mayajaal, far, far on the outskirts of the city. (If you know people from Madras, it was like getting on a spaceship to Mars.) Pliant Magesh waited for them with some popcorn and front-row tickets. ‘No problem, we’ll adjust!’ said the others.

When the movie ended at 3 am, the other five had headaches, too. They were also terribly hungry.

‘Come to Besant Nagar with us, Magesh!’

But even Magesh had his limits. ‘No, thank you. I’ve had enough of your company for today. I want to go home.’

So the friends got into their car and drove all the way to Guduvanchery, where the milkman had just arrived.

‘Any chance of coffee?’ asked Vijay, hopefully eyeing the fresh, frothy milk being transferred into a steel vessel.

‘You’ll find some at the stall on the next street!’ said Magesh, shooing everybody away and turning in to sleep off his oversized headache.

***

After a stop for coffee at Buds Hotel, the boys headed for Sameera’s house. Parked outside at 4.30 am, they dialled her number. A sleepy voice responded.

‘You guys carry on, da! I’m not coming.’

At this point, the boys were too tired to give in. They couldn’t have borne half-empty stomachs and stayed out the whole night for nothing. There was no going back. This group had made plans for a Goa trip and actually completed it. So off they went to wake up a coconut vendor for elaneer. They had no qualms sharing their misery.

As the first orange rays set the waves alight, the American dinner was a distant memory and the pangs of hunger rose afresh. The friends drove to Saravana Bhavan at Venkatanarayana Road, the only place that could logically, realistically, address their needs.

They were rather early. The staff arrived half-an-hour later, unlocked the doors, swept the premises, and cleaned the tables. The cashier dusted his silver Ganesha and Lakshmi figurines, decorated them with marigold flowers, and lit incense sticks in front of pictures of various deities. The cooks set to work in the unseen depths of the restaurant, sending tantalising fragrances of ghee-laden kesari into the air. Finally, the staff took pity on the boys who were close to falling asleep on the pavement, and invited them in.

A while later, fortified by hot coffee and mini tiffin, the boys were ready to go home. Govindan took an auto back. The others piled into Rajender’s car. Soorya managed to confuse Rajender and sent him down a wrong turn. Consequently, it wasn’t until a few hours later that they were all home and comfortable in their beds.

Just as Sairaj nodded off, his phone rang. It was Sameera.

‘I have brunch plans at this new Italian place! Want to join us?’