We got into the auto and told him “Vandiya police stationukku ottuyya’! Innikku oru vazhi paakaama vidarathu illa!” (Drive the auto to the police station. Meterukku mela pottu kudutha varum, illa varaathu” (You can say whatever you want, if you don’t pay extra, the auto won’t come) said the auto driver. Why should we pay above the meter? It’s because of you that the name of Madras is spoilt) “Nee enna vena sollikka. Ethukuyya meterukku mela pottu kudukkanum? Ungalaala Madras pere kettu poyiduchu!’ (Everything should be stopped. Writer Balakumaran style dialogues flowed from the three of us in turns. We were not in a mood to succumb to the auto driver’s fleecing tactics.
Just this time, there was a sense of belligerence in us. As was wont those days, the usual argument with the auto driver about “meterukku mela pottu kudunga” ensued. We got to the gate and hailed an auto to get back home. There was an adrenaline rush inside among us with chests all pumped up. The usual quick post-mortem of a film after watching it was missing and the mood was sombre and reflective. Three of us friends watched the film at Anand Theatre in Madras and after watching, we walked down the stairs.
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