From Spencer Plaza to Marina Beach: Take a nostalgic trip to 90s Madras

The Nineties were simple.

Much before cellphones and technology entered our lives, fun in Madras meant spending evenings playing bet cricket matches. Or heading to Spencer Plaza for free air conditioning and window shopping. Or just taking a bus to the Marina Beach or Woodlands Drive-in, where one could have some bajji or masala dosa over heartfelt conversations with your secret crush or annoying kadi jokes (Tamil equivalent of dad jokes) with a gang of friends.

Celebrating the city this Madras Month, we catch up with three “90s kids” who get nostalgic about the places, movies and music of the era.

Shiva

Shiva, Actor

The first thing that strikes me about the Nineties in Madras is playing cricket on the streets. I grew up in CIT Nagar, with dreams of conquering the world and becoming a big cricketer, much like my then role model, Sachin Tendulkar. A group of us formed a team called ‘City Bulls’ and played floodlit cricket matches in many grounds in the city. All that helped me internalise the character in my hit film, Chennai 28, which was an ode to the integral part the sport played in our lives during our growing-up phase.

We were also lucky because, without access to television or any sort of technology, we got to spend a lot of time outdoors.

Apart from cricket, movies too created a lasting impact on me during this phase. We would go for all the superhit Tamil films of that time and get inspired, but my most memorable film outing was watching the Hindi film, Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995), in Melody Theatre. I was with a group of four friends, none of whom understood Hindi. Nor did I. However, because they had once spotted me asking extra sauce to the neighbourhood chaat seller using my broken Hindi words like thoda and jyaada, they egged me on during the entire run time to translate what was happening on the big screen. It was hilarious, because I had little clue as well on what was being spoken by the characters. But I still narrated my version to them. Till date, I don’t know if they understood the story right.

Madrashe (Krithika Nelson)
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Madrashe (Krithika Nelson), Lyricist-singer

There was a lot more peace in the Nineties and more excitement about going out to meet people.

I grew up in Adyar, and in a little shop near the main signal was where we used to make mixed tapes with all the songs that we loved. My introduction into the world of music was my thatha’s Carnatic tapes, and my dad’s collection of cassettes featuring Boney M and Abba. As a music fan, listening to Ilaiyaraaja’s How to Name It was a game changer, but growing up in the Nineties, I became a huge AR Rahman fan, making multiple mix tapes based on his hit tracks and dancing like crazy to ‘Hai Rama’ (Rangeela, 1995).

Back then, all of us didn’t have computers, so we would all queue up to the friend’s house that had a PC. After school, we would become gamers, playing ‘Prince of Persia’ and ‘Donkey Kong’… we would take turns to get an opportunity to sit before the monitor. We would meet people without an agenda, which does not exist these days.

Six of us from the apartment that I lived in would pack dinner, take a bedsheet and head to Besant Nagar beach. Sometimes, we would go to amusements parks like MGM Dizzee World or Little Folks, and for that, we would have to plan extensively, considering the distance from the city. Closer home, I fondly remember going to kutcheris in Narada Gana Sabha, and going to a bunch of Tamil dramas featuring S Ve Shekhar, Crazy Mohan and TV Varadarajan. Sometimes, I wouldn’t understand the jokes; we would wait for people to laugh and then start laughing. Those were great times.

Darbuka Shiva
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Darbuka Shiva, Director-musician

The heat was killing in Madras of the Nineties – especially during the summers, when we were out playing – but the places made it worth it. I grew up in Kolathur, and we would probably venture till Purasawalkam to shop, and so, the first time I saw Nungambakkam, I was like ‘Wow. What is this place?!’. I remember the time I stepped into Landmark, the only place where we could actually hang out, listening to music from abroad in those music booths. I have spent many hours in this shop, checking out books and music. I would not have enough money to buy all the audio cassettes I wished for; so, in a petulant way, I remember keeping all my favourite ones in the back of rack so that no one else buys it and to ensure that it is still in stock when I came back the next time!

Spencer Plaza was the first mall I visited. I would spend hours here with friends and then take a bus to Marina Beach by bus. I packed all these elements as a love letter to those times in my track, ‘Pudhidhai’ (Mudhalum Nee Mudivum Nee).

In Kolathur, I grew with a lot of Anglo-Indian people around me. Someone somewhere would be playing Michael Jackson or Elvis Presley, and I would just stop and take it all in.

In 1992, when I was just 10, I remember playing the audio cassette of Roja, not knowing anything about who the brains behind it were. The sounds in it exploded in my head, especially when AR Rahman breaks into the ‘Yelelo’ portion from ‘Chinna Chinna Aasai’ (Roja). It gave me goosebumps. I could see images while hearing that line, and it was magic.

Published – August 30, 2025 06:05 am IST