As a 15-year-old precocious young collegian taking her first steps into the adult world beyond the suburbs, Matunga laid out a reassuring welcome for me in its own unobtrusive way — like instrumental classics by the greats or notes of smooth jazz. There was a beautiful symmetry between the traditional and the modern that struck a chord.

For starters, its 'Mini Madras' tag was a deserving, well-earned one. Strains of MS Subbulakshmi's voice would waft from balconies of quaint two-storeyed buildings. The whiff of filter kaapi from one of many South Indian eateries [and we were spoilt for choice!] was the ideal wake-up for students before the 7.25 am lecture. Explorations around the neighbourhood would throw up fascinating discoveries — be it an uber-cheap dosa centre, the fascinating flower market, or a sleepy-looking 'general stores' that was packed with delights from all corners of Tamil Nadu. During Onam or Pongal, we'd drop by one of the temples for darshan, as the sound of the drums would reverberate to reach a heady crescendo.