Streets that smell of dying roses

Alright, its a straight case of plagiarism. But what the heck, the name just suits the kind of place this is.

Fifteen of us were recruited by ITC as interns for 6 months as a part of our MBA course and everyone was promised a certain location while they were being recruited. As fate would have it, all of us are left here to rot in this god forsaken city. Chennai. With all due respect to Prakash Kona, the title of his book aptly suits this rotten city.

This was the month when our expectations met reality. First, we were shown the ITC hospitality and we stayed in Chola Sheraton for about 2 and a half days and feasted on the amazing food there. Then came the great fall. 8 of us were sent to Thiruvottiyur (I’m sure I have spelt it wrong), which is in the middle of nowhere. Although people, for no apparent reason, like the fact that technically this place is a part of Chennai.

A city of pricks. The auto-rickshaw drivers rip you off big time if you do not have the faintest idea of where you are going. You should know how to bargain with a straight face and not show your dependency on them. Or else you will have to pay the bastard whatever he asks. Theres almost zero public transport available after 10.00 so all you can do is comply with the wishes of the auto-rickshaw drivers.

A city with no liquor. This really sucks. This entire state of Tamil Nadu sucks. Can you imagine that these mofos have barred Smirnoff and Bacardi from entering the liquor market. The only goddamned vodka you get here is some shitty local brand called MGM and if you are lucky, then White Mischief. You do not get Kingfisher Strong or any other strong beer around these parts. Ohh and if you see the shape of the beer bottles here, then you’ll feel like puking. They just know too well how to rip life off from something.

Nightlife? Heh he he he….. Stupid bastards keep couples entry for pubs. Ohh and best of all, they close down at 10:30 :D Thats the time when I used to leave home sometimes in Bombay. Man, do I miss Bombay. There are about 4-5 good pubs (or so they like to say) in this hell-hole.

Language. Absolutely sucks. If a person who is not from southern India, is subjected to half an hour of nonstop aandu gundu conversation then he is sure to have a major headache. Mark this as Newton’s fifth law, the fourth I’m sure you all know. For those who do not know, aandu gundu is a collection of all languages from south india. Rule #1: If you want to communicate to anyone here, carry alongwith you a person who knows Hindi or English and of course the ultimate language to convert into, that is, Tamil. I almost feel like I have come to the land of the deaf and the dumb.

I dont think this city deserves any more coverage.

Before I end I would like to ask one question. Why the hell is this city dubbed as a metropolis?

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