“I have called Chennai home since I was five. We first moved into a small house in West Mambalam during a time when water was scarce. My parents would rush back from work to collect whatever water the lorries brought. Later, we shifted to Gopalapuram and then Royapettah, into homes where privacy was a luxury. The bathroom was outside, neighbours’ conversations were part of our daily soundtrack, and stepping out in a towel was normal. Things felt different only when we finally lived in a house with a bathroom inside, tucked at the end of a narrow kitchen.

I was never shaped by celebrities. It was teachers who built me. My mother, a Tamil teacher, was the first person to tell me I did not need to follow the crowd into engineering. She encouraged me to study Visual Communication, and because of that one decision, I found films, art and storytelling. Mr. Stalin, my voice trainer, and Mr. Eugene, my professor at Loyola, were more than mentors. They were the people who saw potential in me when I was unsure about myself. They taught me not just skills, but care, curiosity and courage.

Life brought its share of lessons. A betrayal once shook my family, and I learned early to be careful about whom I trust. College brought me out of my shell again. Theatre made me expressive, joyful and affectionate. I poured my energy into everything, often too generously. When that was misunderstood or mocked, I realised I needed to protect my spirit. I still love deeply, but now I choose where and with whom.

Whatever I became, Chennai stayed my constant. I cannot explain it fully, but coming back here always feels like breathing freely. Maybe it is the tea stalls offering five kinds of tea on a single street. Maybe it is the noise that makes silence comforting. Maybe it is the streets, chaotic yet grounding. I have walked half my life here, from Royapettah to Nungambakkam, down RK Salai to Marina, and in those long walks, I found what this city truly is.

Chennai does not try to glorify you. It reminds you that you are one among many. It makes you small in the best way, grounding you in reality. It lets you stand still and simply watch the world unfold. And that, to me, feels like home.”