Granny told mother...

The stuff was concocted by William Woodward, a pharmacist in England, sometime in the 1850s. For some reason, the mix of sodium bicarbonate, dill oil, sugar water and a bit of alcohol became a runaway hit with the babies and by 1876 it was so popular that Bill decided to register "Woodward's Gripe Water" as a trademark. His advertising at that time was based on the message that "Granny told mother and mother told me" - a theme that will be familiar to Indians from the TVC that was popular in the 1980s

In India, the brand is licensed by TTK & Company, which is headquartered in Chennai. I was sure this one had gone the way of many other old brands - does any baby even want gripe water any more, when all she has to do is to focus on her mother's iPhone? - when I saw this in a store. Somehow, the solitary bottle of gripe water only served to reinforce the point that the market for gripe water has evaporated. 

Can't help feeling that once this one goes off the shelf, the brand will be done for!

Hotel house

Today marks the 47th anniversary of the passing away of one of Chennai's culinary 'Gods'. He has been away from this city for longer than he was here, but in the couple of decades that he ran his business in Madras, he established a presence - and a reputation - that has transcended generations and international borders. That 'God' was Kuthethur Seetharama Rao, who began his foray into the food business by setting up Modern Café at Mysore. The success of his first venture emboldened him to strike out to Madras, and the second Modern Café was set up on the Esplanade. Business there was good as well, no doubt helped by the masala dosa that Seetharama Rao has been credited with popularising.

He believed that it was possible to strike a balance between the choultry that the ordinary Indian traveller was expected to put up with and the plush western hotels favoured by the not-so-ordinary folk. From that belief was born Hotel Dasaprakash, which was an iconic landmark of the city. In 1940, Seetharama Rao built a house for himself just a little way away from the hotel, naming it Dasaprasad. Seetharama Rao extended his culinary empire across Mysore, Madras and Ooty. His descendants have taken the brand overseas: the first Dasaprakash in the USA opened at Cerritos, Los Angeles in 1989. The overseas presence is all that remains - Modern Café and Dasaprakash are no more here in India. The Chennai hotel has made way for a residential complex and the hotel in Ooty is now Villa Park.

That house continues to be the seat of Seetharama Rao's family. The building is still Art Deco and the gateposts continue to proclaim this as the residence of the proprietor of Modern Café. The only thing I am wondering about is the spelling of his name: maybe it was too long to fit on the sign, so it has been modified to read "K. Sitarama Rao"!

Riders' dream

There is a Harley's Road in Chennai, but it is in danger of losing its identity. The Chennai dealership of Harley-Davidson was opened in late 2011. It has been quite low key (as in, "How come I didn't know about it for so long?!"), but then, the other luxury automobile brands in Chennai - Porsche, Jaguar - have also been low key. Harley has its showroom in Wallace Garden. I am sure this dealership has met its sales targets for the year; there seem to be quite a few Harleys roaring around Chennai. 

Roaring is probably the wrong word to use. This was a company that tried to trademark the sound of its machines. In 1981, Harley-Davidson was 'rescued', after a dozen years of being a division of AMF through a management buy-out led by Vaughn Beals. Soon after that, the company tried to claim that the 'potato-potato-potato' sound of its engines was unique and distinctive. A long and tedious application process was contested at every stage by other motorcycle makers; at the turn of the millenium, the company dropped the application, with a spokesperson saying "...Harley-Davidson owners from around the world ... told me repeatedly that there is nothing like the sound of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle..."

In India, that sound is spread through the eight dealerships that Harley has. (No, make that nine, for the dealership at Kochi opens today). This one at Chennai is called the Coromandel Harley-Davidson.  I am afraid to go any closer, for I always think of Harley-Davidson as the 'Belle dame sans merci'. I am enthralled enough, as it is!

Umbrella brand

Quick, name any umbrella brand that you can remember! If you are a true Madrasi, you would have answered that with "மான் மார்க் குடைகள்!!" (maan mark kudaigal - stag mark umbrellas). For years, the 'Stag' brand has been synonymous with umbrellas - in fact, it is a brand name which has been so highly localized that I was shocked to find it is not a Madras-based brand, after all!

Starting off in 1860 with a single shop in Bazaar Gate Street, Fort, Bombay, selling umbrellas imported from England, Ebrahim Currim found business to be so good that he very soon moved to larger premises near the Juma Masjid. His sons Rahimbhai, Ramjanally and Goolamally followed him into the business and in 1902, Ebrahim Currim & Sons set up the National Umbrella Factory. Soon thereafter, the company established branches in Madras and in Calicut (now Kozhikode) during the first half of the 20th century. Over the years, they have moved beyond their standard grandfather-black umbrella to many colours, shapes and designs, and to a variety of uses, too. Today, their factory has a capacity of 3,000 umbrellas per day, though the average production run is more like 250 units a day.

Even though I cannot argue that 'Stag' mark umbrellas belong to Chennai - and I'm still getting used to that fact - I can try and put up a vigourous defence that it was 'Maan mark kudaigal' (in both Tamizh and Malayalam) which created the umbrella brand for Ebrahim Currim & Sons!

Paper picture?

Well, this doesn't have any specific connect to Madras, or to Chennai, but the sign was intriguing. I thought I knew a fair bit about the brands connected with photography, but 'Forte' was a new one on me. Judging from the font and the nature of the sign, I assumed the brand is something that probably died out in the 1960/70s and Mount Photo continues to display this sign because they are too lazy to take it down.

But no! Forte started life as the Hungarian subsidiary of Kodak, way back in 1922 and continued to show signs of life into the 21st century. But as a manufacturer of speciality photo paper - large format black & white seems to have been their flagship product - in a rapidly digitizing age, they probably could not find enough aficiandos to keep themselves afloat; the British Journal of Photography reported the demise of Forte in their January 2007 newsletter. (Forte's website is also defunct, now).

Still, there are a few stockists who continue to supply the last bits of Forte paper to those exacting photographers who will use no other - like this one in Canada, for instance. Could it be that Mount Photo is also one of those rarity distributors?

PS: While digging for information about Forte, I came across this interesting clip on 'How Film is Made' - worth a look, if you have about 20 minutes to spare.