A Madrasi’s Predicament
- Writers Pouch
- May 27, 2014
- 2 min read
Updated: Jun 13
It is a motley group of thirty people, all from different parts, places, areas and walks of life. Yet the minute I stand up and say “Hi! I’m Manognya Bethapudi” I knew what was going to happen…
A second look, followed by filing me in the part of the brain associated with Idli, Sambhar, and, more recently, Kolaveri Di. Ten seconds into the acquaintance, and everyone already expects to know from me that I’m a homely, shy girl with a veshti-wearing, ash-smearing dark and potbellied man for a father and a Kanjeevaram-clad Gold bazaar & horticulture endorsement for a mother; pack in Ranji for a brother, and there you go! It’s the perfect recipe for a happy little “Madrasi” family from Madras, but unfortunately, they wake up in your neighbourhood every morning to the tune of M. S. Subbalakshmi (obviously).
