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 My last visit to Pondicherry town the headquarters of the Union Territory of Pondicherry or Pondy in popular parlance was five years ago, a two and a half-hour drive along the East Coast Road for a quick half-day trip. What remained etched in my mind was the long, beautiful coastline, aesthetic edifices, clean streets bearing French names, cyclists and small, seaside cafes. Half a decade later, Pondicherry remains the same, with the exception of a few hoardings advertising new hotels in town. While the entire country is racing towards modernisation, time stands still in Pondicherry. That, precisely, makes the town enthralling and inviting.
 Watching my bus cross the tollgate, I take the cue to prepare myself to enter the old laid back erstwhile French colony. The rickety bus I am travelling in goes through a maze of streets, blaring its horn with ferocity intended to jolt pedestrians and cyclists in its way. But, they go about their lives, unconcerned and oblivious to the impatient bus driver. The town does not look different from any other south Indian city, as people prepare to begin their day. Half an hour later, I alight at the main bus stand of Pondy, only to be accosted by auto drivers offering to take me on a ride.
 When the French ruled Pondy, the town was divided into the white town, because of its French inhabitants and the black town, named after the Indians living there. The French left decades ago, but the distinction still remains, albeit with a slight difference. It is now called the French and the Tamil quarters. One glimpse at the white town and it still looks spanking new, with its striking; grid-like streets scrubbed and spotlessly clean. The only evidence to any life is the occasional whirring of a tourist car or a government jeep with an official on his way to a meeting. Caution: If you are late for an appointment, never use a traffic jam as an excuse, because chances are you will never find one.
 All roads, rather rues, lead to the sea in white town and all of them look alike. Most of them are also, almost always, deserted and the entire city looks like it has packed up and gone on a vacation. Welcome to a regular, working weekday in a Pondicherrian's life. And this is probably why the tourism department calls its town "Peaceful Pondicherry", with the apt tagline - "Give time a break!"
Name boards, street names, notices outside schools, shops, menus in restaurants - the city's glorious past can be sensed and felt in every corner of the city. Locals wax eloquently in French, with an ease of a mother tongue, but of course with an accent and diction carried with élan only by a Tamilian. It is not confused, this city. It is just a character unique to this town and its people.
 Another enduring facet is the warmth that its people exude. They are easily casual, informal and friendly and are ready to chat you up with details about the culture and the French connection they share. "You ask me any question and I have all the answers," my taxi driver insists in broken English, barely concealing his disappointment at my lack of enthusiasm in visiting the usual tourist hotspots. He explains to me that the prayers in the church on the beach road are in French and that Indian French nationals vote to decide the fate of politicians in France.
The greenery and the absence of pollution, including the architectural charm, are in startling contrasts to other cities, where concrete jungles and an insatiable appetite for development have defeated sanity. The city's compactness makes it easy to take a stroll around or it is possible to rent cycles and even motorbikes to tour the city. The best way to go sightseeing in Pondy is definitely on a bicycle and the even roads make for a pleasurable ride through the town.
 Pondy, like most towns, has its share of beautiful sights compounded with its fascinating history. The churches, with its elegant, stained glass panels, depicting events from the life of Christ, are breathtaking and a must see. The old transport mechanisms, the bronze gallery with images of gods and goddesses, the assortment of temple lamps in the museum bring history back to life.
Yoga is a way of life at the famous Aurobindo Ashram's and this belief is captured in its true essence with people flocking to the place to lose themselves
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