Long Read

vintage vibes and humid nights in chennai

@Lucas Grant3/3/2026blog

i just woke up to the sound of my alarm clock buzzing like a dying bee. the room was thick with that humid air that clings to your clothes and makes you question all life choices. i checked the weather and it’s 19.93°C, which honestly feels like someone spilled a bowl of soup over the thermometer. i’m sitting in my old studio apartment, surrounded by vintage shirts that smell like mothballs and regret. my needlework project is half-finished, and i’m wondering if this is the universe’s way of telling me to stop sewing and just lie down.

last night, i wandered into the local market and got lost in a maze of spices and vendors yelling in a language that sounds like a cat fighting a parrot. someone told me that the best way to find the good stuff is to ask a vendor who’s also selling expired mangoes. i did that, and they gave me a bag of curry leaves that were probably from 2015. it’s probably fine. the neighbors are different each day. one old man in a sarong is always playing bhangra music on his phone, and another woman with a headscarf judges my fashion choices from across the alley. if you get bored, mumbai is just a few hours away, but i’m too lazy to leave.

i heard that the old library here has a ghost. not the scary kind, but the kind that lingers in the archives and whispers about colonialism. i haven’t proven it, but i did see a book open to a page about 1920s fashion. maybe that’s the ghost’s way of saying hi. i also saw a review on a tripadvisor page that said the market’s food stalls are unsafe. i don’t know if it’s true, but i didn’t touch the samosas. they looked suspicious.

i took some photos of the market with my old film camera. the first shot was a mess, like someone spilled coffee on it. the second one showed a vendor with a bowl of dal and a face that looked like they’d seen too much. i uploaded them to unsplash, but the quality is probably bad. here they are:

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i asked a traveler about the weather, and they said it’s like living in a sauna that forgot to turn on the heater. i’m not sure if that’s a compliment. the feels_like is 20.3, which sounds like a number from a horror movie. the pressure is 1011, which is probably just the city’s way of saying, ā€˜we’re not dying, but we’re definitely sweating.’

someone claimed that the best view of the city is from the rooftop of a 100-year-old building. i tried to find it, but the directions were in a language i don’t speak. i ended up following a group of kids with skateboards, which is how most people navigate here. if you want to fit in, learn to walk like you’re trying to avoid a herd of cows.

i’m not sure if this place is supposed to be magical or just exhausting. the last time i checked, the humidity was 89%, which is basically a hug from the air. i wrote this while sipping tea that was probably brewed by a ghost. the neighbors keep passing me notes that say things like ā€˜don’t trust the street food’ or ā€˜the market is a trap.’ i think they’re trying to protect me.

i linked to a few sites while writing. tripadvisor has a review about the market’s spice stalls, and yelp mentions the cafĆ© with the best chai. i also found a local board that talks about the best vintage shops, but it’s in malayalam. i tried translating it, but the words kept turning into nonsense.

the map shows where i am:

. it’s a tiny square with a lot of people. i don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. maybe it’s both.

in the end, i’m not sure if this was a good day. i have a shirt that smells like mildew, a photo that’s probably useless, and a story that makes no sense. but at least i didn’t get lost in the market again. probably.


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About the author: Lucas Grant

Curious about everything from AI to Zoology.

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