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Sea of activity
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Chennai's beaches have something for everyone. But is it not our duty to keep them clean, asks GEETA PADMANABHAN
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FOOTLOOSE AND FANCY FREE Boys having a blast on the beach
A long coastline with plenty of buffer sand. The steady breeze, you might have noticed, keeps us free of seasonal sniffles. Watch the 15,000 people (give or take the hundred trying to park) walking, eating, chatting, riding, bathing — generally sporting smileys and you know. Chennai's beaches are now what temples are to villages — social, economic, commercial hubs, meeting spots, places for a free intake of silence, speech, air or activity.
Our beaches have an attached file of history. If you're walking on the Marina (the second longest beach), tell your companion the promenade was paved by Governor Grant-Duff. He gave Marina its name in 1884. Look at the statues. Each has a story, recent and past, with the Labour of Debiprasad Roy Choudhry triumphing in the end. The two memorials for former CMs draw visitors in droves. Add the historic meetings these sands have seen and the speeches the surf has echoed and you have a yarn worth a longish movie.
The Marina saw foreigners sun-bathing four decades ago, but "Bessie", Elliot's beach, beckons the under 30s, and the over 60s across the road. This is a beach where the fishermen have graciously withdrawn for others to savour the water. Loss of beaches in the north (Kasimedu, Thiruvottiyur, Ennore) is more than made up by those that dot the 40 km scenic route to Mahabalipuram. The ones at Thiruvanmiyur and Neelankarai have had a makeover; some are exclusive to resorts while others have fishermen putting out to sea. Some beaches welcome sea turtles that waddle ashore annually to raise families. At Muttukkadu, the backwaters offer boat riding and wind surfing.
Promise of health
Our beaches promise health. The walkers, joggers and exercisers hit the pavement early. Sun-up crowds have swelled but post 4 p.m., the walkway has standing room only. Elders amble supported by claw-footed irons, the obese puff out extra calories, school kids practise races, new moms push strollers. Footballs are kicked regularly, soft balls are hit for a six on the small strip in front of Schmidt Memorial. If you are a loner, you can fly a kite. In recent years, beach volleyball tournaments have become annual affairs. Our beaches spell hope. To candidates running to get past the medical exam. To a waiting lover, or the ones that sit pasted, light or night, as if an inch between will create an unbridgeable divide. To pregnant women praying for an easy time. To those kids in school uniform, selling anything from flowers to sundal. To dozens of families like Lakshmi's, which make a living operating rides, selling snacks and trading masks. To the abandoned who beg, the strays that look for scraps, women who offer to read your future.
Our beaches promote commerce. Newspapers, health juices, greens, sevai, and organic grains get sold before first glow. Want to check out consumer preference? Try your product in these crowded spots. Men conclude deals on mobiles, movie scripts get finalised. On a Sunday evening, you could buy books, packed chaats, cup noodles or an Internet connection. Watch ad vans disgorging college students in promo T-shirts, collect flyers announcing CADD classes or walk-ins for call centres. The beaches restore faith. Bells ring at several shore temples, sermons are broadcast by the church. Groups listen to the guru lecturing from his chair. Devotees distribute pongal and vadai on festival days. A different kind of faith binds those who gather to watch the open-air screening of an Anand Patwardhan documentary.
Our beaches are for bonding. "This is where I get to chat with friends," said Annapurna, a Mass Communication intern. Boys and girls meet and banter all evening. A teenage son listens to dad walking the talk. A daughter shares the day's news with mom.Men past retirement get together to t(h)rash Indian cricket and politics, but only after assessing kindly each other's arthritis. Women swap recipes and snigger about their DIL's guts. Courting IT couples discuss work schedules (when can we meet again?), married ones do the same. Grandpas smile at their sand-throwing grandkids. Cops wave at regulars and make sure pedestrians get right of way. The seawater soothes a lot of pain. Revellers wash after beach parties, boys gambol, girls ride the waves. Shooting crews take a breather, and once in a while bereaved menfolk wade in to immerse ashes. Life or death, the surf takes it all. The question is: Shouldn't we care for a place that connects, sustains and de-stresses at no cost? Stop dropping flyers, ice-cream wrappers, plastic sachets, cigarette stubs, coke bottles, corncobs... you-know-what-they-ares? Imagine a beach free of debris. Clean sand, a cleaner walkway and water that doesn't wash old shoes ashore. Think. Is it ok for our kids to step on shards of glass instead of smooth shells?
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