The city of my birth always fills me with a sense of nostalgia, wistfulness, longing. This time, too, was no different.

A quick visit of a few days, is not enough to take in all the pleasures and joys of a city that the rest of the country still prefers to underrate, but to me life in the southern sector is a very different kind of life.

Chennai is not brash and in your face like Bangalore.

Nor is it a city of hype like Hyderabad.

Nor is it in a time warp like Thiruvananthapuram.

Every time I visit I find the city a good blend of the old and new. There are lots of things left over from my time – except, of course, friends – and there are a lot of things that are new-fangled.

I also love the way the city’s demographics have changed over time. From an insular, xenophobic city that spoke only one language, the city has become more open, more accepting of other languages, other peoples (just look at the number of expats you come across in the airport!). This has had a direct impact on the cuisines available in the city, and it’s long been a gastronomic delight.

But one thing I find has not changed, and probably will never change. The usury by autorickshaw drivers. For the visitor it can be harrowing, especially if you are from a well-run city like Mumbai, to face such daylight robbery, and it amazes me no government has the will to bring these brigands to book. Probably they are on the take too.