Landed. At nine am today I was pretending to be a rock at Gingee. I thought I'd coax the father into climbing all the way up to the top of the fort so I could see what a splendid kingdom I'd have had if I'd been a tribal chieftain, didn't happen because we realised halfway through we were drenched in sweat and wouldn't reach Chennai in time for the Chettinaad lunch we'd planned to have after a week of hobnobbing with what we call the idli-dosa public. So we turned around, and there it was, a wide expanse of wild grass and manicured ASI lawns with ruined temples and granaries and arched gateways popping out through the rocks like startled gnomes. Telephone lines in the distance. But mainly rocks, so many boulders turning into pebbles near the horizon, consider the number of trolls they'd make, consider building a fort on sleeping trolls. Gingee was my favourite place of the lot after Thanjavur, when I go back again I will spend the day there till my legs creak and then turn into a rock. Or maybe I'll go eat some more mutton ghee roast in Madras. It's all a matter of leverage, I'll lean the way I feel. Yet another animal-versus-mineral instance.