Old favourite

Namakkal would probably top the list of (hen's) egg-producing districts in the country. The undivided state of Andhra Pradesh contributed to almost a third of India's eggs, but before and after its split, the second spot has been held by Tamil Nadu, with a little over 20 billion eggs a year. When you consider that Namakkal accounts for 80% of this, you might be able to figure out its importance in the egg world. 

On sweets, however, Namakkal would not be the first name that comes to mind. I can't think of any sweet that can claim a Geographical Indication tag for Namakkal, but these folks seem to be staking a claim for kamarkattu to be it. That's my fancy, of course, for they only claim to have originated from Namakkal, from the legacy of Namakkal Sellappa, whose sweets have been around since 1987, according to the founders of this shop.

Kamarkattu is a start-up; keeping with the times, they're bringing old flavours in organic fashion. They give no indication of having been badly hit by the pandemic. Set up in 2018 by Chandru and Carthic, both from Namakkal, Kamarkattu has expanded to five outlets in Chennai. The city seems to be their only market for the moment, but surely Kamarkattu can find takers in many other locations!

 

Small beginning

Kalakshetra was founded in 1936, in part as an extension of the founders' belief that Theosophy should be extended through an academy for training students in traditional arts. With all the founders belonging to the Theosophical Society at Adyar, it was the easiest thing for them to have the academy function out of the Society's premises. One of the members of the academy, Pandit Subramania Sastri, suggested the name "Kalakshetra", meaning "Holy place of the Arts". 

The academy grew. Rukmini Devi Arundale, the prime mover behind the academy, had personally trained many of the initial batches of students and continued to drive the courses at the academy for many years. In 1951, the academy began developing its own premises at Thiruvanmiyur, a short distance away from the Theosophical Society. Fittingly, the development started with the planting of a sapling from the great banyan of the Theosophical Society in the newly acquired land.

The land expanded to nearly 100 acres. The sapling has grown into a large tree. The academy has grown to become the Kalakshetra Foundation, bringing into its fold five distinct institutions - the College of Fine Arts, the Craft Education and Research Centre, the Besant Arundale Theosophical Senior Secondary and High Schools and the Besant Cultural Centre Hostel. In 1993, the Foundation was taken over by the Government of India and declared an institution of National Importance. Here's to the institution growing further and spreading wide, like the sapling seems to be doing!

Medicinal might

Legend has it that the 63 Nayanmars, the minstrels whose songs of Siva are so uplifting that the Nayanmars themselves are considered near-divine, have sung specifically about 275 of Siva's temples. These 275 are considered to be paadal petra sthalams and are considered a notch above the vaippu sthalams, which are those shrines that were 'mentioned' in the Nayanmars' compositions. Of of the 275, three are in Chennai - Tiruvottiyur, Mylapore and then this one at Thiruvanmiyur.

The locality the temple is in takes its name from Valmiki, but it is said that one of the reasons for him to be here was to recover from some illness; it was a blessing from Siva, in the form of Marundeeswarar who cured Valmiki. The form itself was assumed to cure Surya (the Sun God) and Chandra (the Moon God), as well as the sage Agastyar - and it was the last who named this form Marundeeswarar - the Lord of Medicines!

Multipurpose tank

Every temple built during the middle ages has some kind of a water body attached to it. Such a water body - the temple tank - served more than an ornamental function. It is believed that these tanks also played a crucial role in the ecosystem. Storing water was key, but the way these tanks were constructed ensured that they collected the runoff water from the catchment areas. Thus, the tanks were replenished during the monsoons and, unless it was a particularly bad year, remained full of water the year round. 

A paper published in 2008 identified 39 temple tanks within Chennai. The paper was about the results of a study on how Chennai's temple tanks could be used in the rainwater harvesting efforts that are essential for Chennai's water supplies. The paper went into details about how the runoff can be predicted; apparently there is an empirical parameter called the SCN Runoff Curve Number that can be used to predict it. Combining this information with factors such as evaporation loss and water depth in the tank, an estimate was made of the size the catchment area for an urban tank needed to be. Let us just say that it is far greater than what is available to any of the city's 39 tanks.

For all that, this tank linked to the Marundeeswarar temple appears to be quite full. With narrow streets around its perimeter, this tank has kept itself reasonably clean and charged up to take on the next dry season!

Memories of the roof

Growing up in Madras, it was not uncommon to see such tiled roofs. The 'Mangalore tiles' had become the default option for tiles towards the middle of the 20th century, replacing the fish-scale tiles of an earlier era (seen here and here). Today, it is a rare find; even in the most staunchly 'traditional' quarters of the city, flat terraces have become the norm for the roof; tiles are just the decorative alternative to awnings.

This one, on Thiruvanmiyur's West Bank Street, has the dual-roof that was prevalent during the '40s and '50s (?). A part of the house would be under a 'proper' ceiling; after all, the 'Madras Terrace' was the most modern technique in housebuilding during that time, so how could a Madras house not have one? And yet, the nod to tradition continued with a portion of the house being topped off with a tiled roof.

I don't know about their utility, but a generation or two ago, a tiled roof such as this would have been an invitation for a race between one boy using the stairs and another climbing over the tiles, to see who could get up on to the pucca terrace first!

In the middle

The great epic Ramayana traces several parts of the Indian sub-continent even though its author himself appears to have spent most of his life along the banks of the river Ganga. Ratnakar the robber used to waylay travellers for their belongings and would think nothing of finishing them off. One day, after realizing the error of his ways, Ratnakar began to offer penance, focussing on nothing but the syllables "Mara-maram". Over many years, his body was covered by anthills, but the focus of his penance wavered not a whit. The Gods finally blessed him, for the syllables he uttered were nothing but the name of Rama; as he emerged from his penance, he gained the name Valmiki, the one born of ant-hills. It was then that he began to narrate the story of Rama, in the process earning for himself the title "Aadi Kavi", the pioneer poet.

So how did the robber-turned-poet know about places that he had never seen before? Was he bestowed with divine visions? Or, as one strand of the legend of Valmiki has it, did he visit the places and then write about them? In this part of Chennai, the second option is favoured.  It is believed that Thiruvanmiyur, lying on the coast towards the southern end of Chennai, is the morphed version of Thiru-Valmiki-oor, (Thiru meaning holy, and 'oor' meaning village, or area) and that the poet, came here to worship at the shrine of Marundeeswarar, and stayed for a few years within a short distance of that shrine.

This one is a temple to Valmiki himself. As you can see, it is plonk in the middle of the East Coast Road, with traffic flowing along its flanks. Over the years, successive bouts of road laying have raised the height of the roads so that the temple (which was anyway accessed by going down 3 or 4 steps) appears to be even lower than what it is. Even though there doesn't seem to be a crowd visiting this temple, every passer by pays automatic obeisance. For the traffic, it seems to be a nuisance; certainly not Valmiki would have wanted!