The road into Karaikudi is long enough for a song to settle into your bones.
In my case, it was an old Ilaiyaraaja number blasting through the taxi radio… “Aathadi Paavada Kathaada…”. It is a playful, mischievous song full of teasing romance.
Outside my window, the landscape rushed by in broad strokes. Village hamlets that appeared and vanished before I could fully take them in, agricultural patches, shepherds chasing after wayward sheep, and clusters of the avaram plant– its bright yellow flowers swaying under the sharp sun.