If there comes a point in life where you’re getting the circumference of your calves measured by a man at 3 am, you must ask yourself: How did I get here?
For me, it was when I took upon this challenge of spending an entire night out in Chennai, from midnight to sunrise. To add to that, we aren’t allowed to spend fancy amounts at nightclubs and late night dinners. I enlist the help of my colleague, who has chivalrously agreed to offer his presence, and more importantly, his car, that gives us a mileage of 13 kmpl.
10.50 pm: Sober at the local pub
My colleague, the GIF master, texts me one of Dumbledore from Harry Potter, saying, “Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” With this encouragement, we decide to meet at the Vault Bar Stock Exchange in T Nagar.
We don’t have a cocktail budget, and it is odd being the only sober people in a room full of inebriated ones. The dance floor of the free-entry pub is a flurry of arms, legs and a whole lot of hair. I shuffle my feet awkwardly. My colleague however, is as unperturbed as Roger Federer, whom he watches devotedly on the six-screen wall playing the Wimbledon semis. In about two days, the Swiss will lose to Djokovic in the finals and break his heart, but for now, he’s content.
The last call announcement sparks a wave of groans and everyone returns to their seats to down one for the road. Two of the men don’t know what to do with their leftover energy, so they challenge each other to do maximum push-ups in under a minute. The entire bar is counting with them, and uses the second man’s win as an excuse to have another drink.
Beside us, a group of strangers have suddenly discovered that they’re all Engineering graduates. After quickly ostracising the 9-pointer among them, they proceed to discuss whose college was the absolute worst. Points are made, heavily debated and the 32-year-old seems to have won, on account of being “senior”. Before leaving, a teary “Love you, bro. Take care” is heard.
12.45 am: Roadside coffee time
After The Vault kicks us out at 12.20 am, we head to The Park, hoping to get into Pasha that stays open until 2 am. It’s free for “ladies”, but unfortunately, we find that a couple entrance will cost ₹2,000. The bouncer and I indulge in mutual Indian head-nods to agree this was a laughable prospect, and we exit. In the lane adjacent to The Park, we come across a man selling tea, coffee, milk and other beverages, all priced under ₹20, from his scooter-stall.
Mohammad Arif’s is a familiar face to the night owls of Anna Salai. He has been selling tea to men taking a break from The Park, food delivery boys, families returning home late and so on, for over four years now. We while away our time there — as much as a slow coffee drink would allow — and then head back to the car.
1.30 am: Midnight ghosthunters
“So the zombies are moving to Chennai from Puducherry, and you have 10 days to plan your survival. What will you do?” I ask my colleague.
The weather is good and we have nothing but time on our hands. After a short drive, we park near Crowne Plaza and walk about Abiramapuram. Our conversation has switched from horror movies to zombies and he lets out a nervous laugh. “Can we not talk about zombies with DeMonte colony right next to us?”
My eyes light up at the mention of the supposedly haunted neighbourhood. After a great deal of convincing, against his better judgement, he drives us towards the colony. I’m a little underwhelmed at the silence that greets us, and remark, “What’s so scary, even the lights are on!” And right then, I kid you not, we hear a fuse blow up and the entire road is shrouded in darkness.
You, dear reader, are free to draw your own conclusions about this, but the two of us couldn’t have gotten out of there faster.
2.15 am: Owls need workouts too
About one month ago, Slam Fitness Studio started operating 24x7. When we enter the GN Chetty Road branch, the manager Rahul MN informs us that the last client has just left. “We mostly get people who work late nights,” he says, adding that he saw more people, including actors, working out at night when he was managing the ECR branch.
On an average, the gym sees its last clients exit at 3.15 am. There’s a lull until 4.50 am, when the day’s first clients stop dropping by. With no women trainers currently, most of the people who workout beyond 12.30 am are men.
We have managed to score a free trial session and Ruthresh, our trainer, assesses our fitness levels by first taking our measurements and then having us walk on the treadmill and perform lunges, squats, planks, crunches — the whole lot. With this adrenaline boost ridding us of the final traces of sleep, we pause.
We aren’t sure where to go next. Where will we find people awake at this time?
3.40 am: Horns and whistles
“We’re like characters in a Mani Ratnam movie.” My colleague is now talking to himself, as we sit on a bench on Platform 15 of Chennai Central, keenly watching the 3.45 am train to Tiruttani. We have parked our car at a nearby residential area; the station parking lot charges a minimum of ₹25. For an hour inside the century-old brick-coloured building, designed by architect George Harding, we watch the trains ply, our conversations punctuated by deafening horns.
At about 5 am, when there’s enough light outside, we drive to the Marina beach. A batch of joggers run past us, and a murder of crows takes flight. Carpets of sand and sea lit by the first morning rays await us, but before we head to the beach to watch the sun rise, I want to take a five-minute nap. My colleague switches on the radio, and grins; the strains of ‘Suprabhatam’ fill the car.
In this column, we explore the city to unearth its most interesting facets for both tourists and locals. There is just one catch. How much can you do with ₹99?