I have next to no recollection of Chennai but plenty of my relatives. Which goes to say I'll probably have a nice time but be bored to tears. I shall look at people as a mute version of myself, nodding and laughing and helping out when needed and everyone will think I'm the poor silent sort who will trouble her parents later in life. I shall eat a large quantity of chips with meals and get used to rasam and be asked if I want Aarlicks at night. It's all good though. Some people I want to see because they figured so prominently for the first seven years of my life. The others, I don't know. I'd like to meet the family drunkard but he won't stop talking if he senses you might listen. It'll be like rehab but its ok, as long as I get to go somewhere I'll be awesome every moment. Maybe I'll be so awesome I'll go around asking for the recipe of chettinaad chicken again. Little extreme, but it should freak everyone out enough: the last time I did I was asked, in the most conspiratorial tone, if I ate mutta-dosai at home. Tamil for omelette, it struck me later.