Even though the tea shop remained closed for the Pongal holidays, the four of us continued to meet there every evening. We would sit outside for an hour or so, chatting freely about anything and everything—mostly utter nonsense—simply enjoying each other’s company and passing the time.
On 16th January, I couldn’t make it to the tea kadai. Our pet cat had to be taken to a veterinary hospital in Chennai, and by the time I returned to the gated community, the group had already dispersed.
The next day, 17th January, Mr. Chandrashekar—a retired LIC officer—joined our casual gathering. He spoke at length about his years of service and mentioned his one enduring regret: he had never learned Hindi. Because of this, he missed out on promotions and postings outside Tamil Nadu, which eventually resulted in a significantly reduced monthly pension. It was a quiet reminder of how small gaps can have lifelong consequences.
We also learned that Vibra Narayanan, the owner of the tea shop, had gone to Kodaikanal for the holidays, while Guru, the master who prepares the tea, had travelled to Madurai. That explained the stubbornly closed shutters.
On 18th January, we arrived once again with renewed hope that the shop would finally reopen. Unfortunately, the shutters were still down. That evening, our guest was Ms. Lakshmi Shilpa, the niece of our freelance journalist friend. She had come from Hyderabad—an MTech graduate and a part-time actor who had worked in a couple of Telugu films.
When she heard that my nephew directs advertisement films and is expected to begin work on a feature film soon, she asked for his contact details. I declined, explaining that it wouldn’t be appropriate to share his personal number. Instead, I suggested she approach him through proper professional channels—auditions, casting networks, and industry contacts. I told her that if she were ever selected for one of his films, she could then mention that she knew me.
Finally, on 19th January, the tea shop reopened. Dr. Mohandas, Ravindra, and I met for our usual hour of lively conversation. Unsurprisingly, the discussion soon drifted back to Ravindra’s ongoing struggle with the maintenance management over the gas meter issue.
Since Ravindra had lodged a police complaint, the Maraimalainagar police station informed him that the management had agreed to issue an apology letter for the eight-day disruption of gas service, along with nominal compensation for the inconvenience caused. Ravindra is still awaiting that letter from the Ashiana Maintenance Management.
His persistence—constant emails, relentless follow-ups, and firm arguments—along with police intervention, compelled the management to acknowledge their mistake. The incident sets an important precedent, ensuring that the maintenance team cannot take undue advantage of senior residents in the future.
On 20th January, I was absent from the tea kadai once again, having gone to Vedanthangal Bird Sanctuary with a school classmate for bird photography. We managed to get a few good images of painted storks, darters, grey and white herons, and spotted owlets.
On 21st January, Dr. Mohandas was away in the city, so it was just Ravindra, Sundararajan, and me at the shop. We spent an hour talking about absolutely nothing—snacks, tea, laughter, and idle conversation—before quietly dispersing back to our homes.
