Triple diamond gift

You would have seen it in that 1906 photograph of Mylapore. Seeing it over a century later, it looks different, yet the same. The real challenge these days is more in being able to see it, for the area around Kapaleeshwarar Temple is not the open field it was over a hundred years ago. The low wall behind the coconut trees in that photograph is gone, as are the trees (I think). That wall marked the boundary of the temple tank; today, entrance to the tank is zealously guarded, with a fence keeping everyone well beyond the periphery of the tank.

Also missing is the structure in the foreground (right) of the photograph. Even in the early 70s, that structure was a common sight in some parts of the city. It is a sumaithangi, the load-bearer, which travellers could use to rest their loads on. It makes eminent sense that something useful for travellers needs to be placed next to such a structure. You will notice that the photo shows a man sitting under what seems to be a water fountain; of course the first thing a traveller would do after placing his bundle of belongings on the sumaithangi would be to drink deep. And placing such a fountain under a canopy will ensure that travellers bless the far-sighted benefactor.

To find out who this benefactor is, you will have to peer intently above the arches; you might be able to make out the statement "Diamond Jubilee Gift - P. Subramania Iyer - 22 June 1897". That was the 60th anniversary of Queen Victoria's ascension to the throne. While the occasion was marked by several performances and installations, a water dispenser in some form seems to have been a favourite. It is fortunate that Subramania Iyer's interpretation of that for Mylapore had the canopy added to it. Apart from providing shade, the canopy is all that remains of the gift, with the water fountain having run dry long ago and completely removed from this structure!

Recharged

The rains have been quite patchy this year; cyclone Vardah was an anomaly, one that gave the city more wind than water. The threat of the city going dry within a few weeks, if not days, appears very real. There was a bit of cloud today, and promise of showers over the weekend. If that happens, it would be a Godsend.

You might take a look at the Kapaleeswarar temple tank and wonder what the fuss is all about. If there is so much water here, the ground water levels must be pretty good - that sounds logical. But this tank has been nurtured carefully - in the early 2000s, when rainwater harvesting was made mandatory, the tank was re-done with a little bit of thought. The normally sandy bed of the tank was laid over with a foot-and-a-half of clayey soil, which has helped in retaining the water much better.

If you click on the picture and blow it up, you will notice that the lower steps of the mandapam are bare. We can probably breath a bit easier when they get covered up with water!

Narrow outlook

Yes. That is truly how Kutchery Lane opens into the North Mada Street of the Kapaleeswarar Temple. But as one gets out from this narrowest of lanes, all it takes to get into the temple is to cross the street. That small gopuram is over a door to the temple's administrative office. That door does not open for you or me, it is quite possibly an entrance for only the most privileged of the temple's staff and/or devotees.

For a long while, that was the entrance through with the temple's designated devadasi, would enter the temple. She was an integral part of the temple's rituals, and was accorded a high status in the temple's hierarchy. But over the years, the position of the devadasi was stigmatised, and there were likely enough people within the temple administration who were politicking to cut the devadasis down to size.

It was not just at this temple; all over the Madras Presidency and across India, the desire to abolish the devadasi system led to the passage of legislation such as the Madras Devadasis (Prevention of Dedication) Act in 1947. With that law in their hands, the puritan faction of the temple administrators walked out through the office door, into the Kutchery Lane, to the ex-officio residence of the last of Kapaleeswar devadasis and unceremoniously threw her out into the street. And so ended a tradition, one that gave much of today's Bharatanatyam dance, in obscurity and penury. Would it have been any different had the passage been much broader?

Peacock dance

Dusk falls at the Kapaleeswarar Temple. The temple gopuram is outlined with lights, which is not unusual. But what is unusual is the stage in front, and the dancers. 

We are back at the Mylapore Festival and on the last day of the festival, we caught a version of the mayilattam; the dance of the peacocks, the birds the place is named after!

Fest-eve

The last weekend of the Mylapore Festival for this year. The square in front of the Kapaleeshwarar Temple was quite packed with people waiting to listen to the nadaswaram performance. This was only a small part of the over 50 thousand people who passed through the Mylapore Festival. 

Are you planning to be there next year?

A new year

Happy New Year, everyone! The first full year of this blog has just gone by: 365 posts in 2014! After having had a decent start in 2008, 'daily photo' spluttered along until living up to its name with a post for every day last year. Sure hope that it will continue in the new year. 

The first post was also on a New Year's day. But that was in April and it featured this gopuram's opposite number, the western gopuram of the Kapaleeswarar temple. Have come a long way around to this side!

Am skipping the 'Theme Day' this month. But if you would like to take a look at some mind blowing pictures from City Daily Photo blogs around the world, head over here!

A thought was born

That block of flats along the western border of the Kapaleeshwarar temple tank occupies the space where, in the late 19th century, Diwan Bahadur Raghunatha Rao's house, Krishna Vilasam, had stood. Sometime in Aug-Sep of 1884, seventeen prominent men of south India had met at this house and resolved that a "national movement for political ends" be formed. One of the members present was Alan Octavian Hume, a member of the Theosophical Society. Hume followed up on this resolution at the annual convention of the Theosophical Society in December 1884 and his suggestion of all-India organization to present the cause of Indians found acceptance with Annie Besant, Womesh Chandra Bannerjee and Surendranath Bannerjee. 

December 28-30 of the following year saw the first session of the Indian National Congress, in Bombay. With just 72 delegates, it didn't seem to be big deal. But Hume had covered extensive ground. He had travelled to England and had the proposal of forming the INC cleared by Lord Ripon, then Viceroy of India, and other influential persons. Without those efforts, the organization might have remained one more of the many which had petered out after the initial enthusiasm. 

The first resolution of the INC was moved by G Subrahmania Aiyar, who was then the editor of The Hindu, a delegate from Madras. In the years to follow, other delegates from Madras continued to play important roles in the Congress. In the 1960s, however, the Congress lost ground in Tamil Nadu and has been struggling to regain it here since. This year, the party has slipped across the country; its annual session this year a couple of days ago was a low-key affair.  An idea that was sparked at a Mylapore meeting charted the course of this country for over a century - and will hopefully regain its lustre in the years ahead!

Festival time

In the month of Thai (Jan-Feb), the Kapaleeswarar temple gets decked up for the theppam (float) festival. Spread over three days, the festival sees the main deities being taken around the temple tank in a float that is constructed to resemble a temple sanctum and is decorated with colours and bright lights. The float holds about 30-50 people, including the priests who perform the pujas and recite the thevarams and the vedas.

On the first day, it is the duo of Kapaleeswarar and Karpagambal who are taken around the tank. The float goes around five times on the first day. No motors, or propulsion systems; devotees walking along the sides of the tank pull the theppam. It is a privilege and there are more than enough people waiting for their turn to help. On the second day and third day, it is Singaravelar who is taken around, seven times on day two and nine times on the final day. The last day coincides with the full moon day of Thai, which was the day when Murugan received the vel (spear) from his mother Parvathi, giving him the name Singaravelar.

The temple and its environs are also brightly lit. Thai is festival time, kicking off with Pongal and going on to several others. The next time you get a chance, get to the temple for this festival. Mylapore goes into an orbit of its own; the city seems so far away! 

Wedding day

Weddings happen at the Kapaleeswarar temple also. I did not know that, until today. The space at the southern end, across from Karpagambal's sanctum, is where the action was happening this morning. 

The bride does not seem to be entirely convinced, though!

East tower

For all its presence through this blog (in fact, it had featured in the very first post), the Kapaleeswarar temple at Mylapore has not been written about at all. The main reason for this is quite simple; it is difficult to pack all of the information about this temple into a single post. So here is one about the eastern gopuram (tower) of the temple - one of the two grand gopurams over the entrance to this temple, the other one being over the western entrance. This is the taller one, rising up to a height of about 125 feet, with seven distinct 'floors' above the entryway. Topping off these seven floors is the set of 9 kalasams (pots), gleaming golden in the light of the morning sun. 

Legend is that the kalasams are a combination of lightning conductors and seed vaults. Ancient manuals of temple construction apparently decree the nature of the metals to be used, and the size of the kalasams. It is believed that the kalasams should be filled with grains, sufficient enough to be used as seed-stock should the town / village suffer a severe crop loss. That the grains are non-conductors of electricity kind of negates the whole lightning conductor theory (unless the earthing happens right at the point of contact?), but that could also be the reason why townspeople were exhorted to not build any structure taller than the temple's gopuram. 

And yet, lightning might sometimes bypass the conductor / arrestor that is intended to attract it. It was on the eve of Madras Day (Aug 22) in 2007 that this gopuram was struck by lightning, the first time since its renovation in 1906. The nasi thalai developed a crack, and a chunk of stone dropped off. One of the idols was also partially damaged. Luckily, nobody was injured in this incident. Special pujas were performed within a day, but the reinforcing of the gopuram took a couple of months - and there have not been any further lightning strikes since!