A sleepless night - and a new dawn

Gandhiji was in Madras on March 18, 1919, staying as a guest of Rajaji, who he had met for the first time earlier that day. He had come to the city to mobilize opposition to the report of the Rowlatt Commission, which had been submitted to the Imperial Legislative Council in 1918. Set up in response to a conspiracy by radical Indian nationalists and Germany to undermine British power in Asia, the Rowlatt Commission recommended that the Viceroy of India be given untramelled power to persecute anyone suspected of treason or sedition. Gandhiji, even then, believed the British government would play by the rules, that they would pay heed to public opinion against the provisions of the 'Black Bill'. His visit to Madras was part of his nationwide campaign against those provisions.

Gandhiji addressed a meeting of leaders at Tilak Bhavan, a guest house belonging to Kasturi Ranga Iyengar and the gathering continued their discussions on actions against the Rowlatt Bill late into the evening. As they were debating, they received news of the Bill becoming law; the infamous Rowlatt Act had been passed. Gandhiji's belief that the British government could be countered by normal democratic processes was completely shattered by this high-handed behaviour. No wonder that he spent a "..restless historic night..." as the inscription says. The morning brought clarity with it: Gandhiji had now become a convert to the idea that cooperating with British institutions would not bear fruit and he articulated his chosen form of attacking them through satyagraha, (desire for truth) the non-violent, non-cooperation movement that became his defining legacy much later.

That, as 'The Story of Gandhi' says, "...was the great awakening of India in her struggle towards independence". But Thilak Bhavan, where that restless sleep and the great awakening happened, is no more. The high-powered business executives, movie stars and political leaders going into Sheraton Chola do not have the time to even spare a glance at this monument to that historic day of 90 years ago!

Tower view

Looking out through the arched window of a 120-year old building, it is not so easy to imagine what the view might have been in the days when it was new. At that time, someone looking through would have been able to see clear for miles away, but today that view is blocked by the Moore Market complex of the Southern Railway.

The only things one can see clearly are the yellow autorickshaws and the parked cars. Beyond that building lie the rails of the northbound spur of Chennai suburban rail system, heading out to Thiruttani or Sulurpet. Being a Sunday, the streets are not so crowded, allowing that jaywalker to sit on the median and ponder about life!

Knockdown Hall

After having founded the Young Men's Indian Association (YMIA) in 1914, Annie Besant decided that the Association needed a home in Madras. The YMIA was intended to shape youth with 'a strong body, an informed mind and a noble character' so that they could take on the task of becoming public leaders. It was therefore critical that the home should have a hostel, library, canteen, gymnasium and an oratory. Funded rather substantially by Dr. Besant, the home was ready in 1915 and its public area, the oratory, was named after Gopala Krishna Gokhale.

The early meetings in the oratory were mainly political and often inflammatory, inviting the attention of the British police officers. Every so often, the YMIA would be pulled up by the authorities for allowing more people than was "permissible" to assemble in the Gokhale Hall. With several luminaries in the long list of persons who have addressed gatherings in the Hall, it is natural that capacity was exceeded on several occasions. It was not just political leaders and their fiery speeches that echoed here, but also musical notes of several great carnatic musicians who used to live in north Madras. It was the home of many of north Madras' sabhas - Muthialpet Sabha, Tondaimandalam Sabha - which are non-existent today. Though not much to look at, Gokhale Hall has been suffused with many memories of many great persons from all walks of life.

It is sad that the Young Men now want to knock down this Hall and construct a multi-storeyed office building here. The Madras High Court has stayed those plans for now, but how long can the public hold their interest in this building!

Bright outlook

Caught your eye, didn't it? That's probably one reason why a rash of bright colours has burst out all over Chennai over the past couple of years. It is not just marriage halls (like this one), but even houses and flats that have taken to covering themselves with such in-your-eye colours.

Time was when nuanced shades of white - with a hint of blue, grey or cream - were the standard colours; and then came 'colourwash', contrasting with the traditional whitewash - now you could have the lime mix suffused with green or blue and differentiate the living room from the bedroom without much effort. Over the past couple of decades, as paint technology improved, it has become easier to mix colours to get just that right shade you wanted - and economies of scale did not apply, most likely. So that one wall of the living room was painted in a contrasting colour, inviting attention to the framed prints.

Over the past couple of years, that contrast effect has come out to the streets. In doing so, it has created camps - some believe that turmeric, vermillion or green should be the only colours to be used in painting houses, since they represent auspicious colours. Others pooh-pooh that and go ahead with any bright or fluorescent colour which helps them stand out!

Celebrating ability

It has been fourteen years of trying to get people to keep an open mind. In 1995, Jayshree Raveendran set up the Ability Foundation to get "...persons with and without disability walk hand-in-hand, work shoulder-to-shoulder and are accepted as equal partners...". It may not have been a novel thought, but the Foundation has been single-minded in its desire to mainstream as many 'ability-challenged' people as it can. EmployABILITY, their annual job fair for differently abled candidates, has been a huge eye-opener to corporates in Chennai. Over a hundred firms have participated in the effort, generating a surge of positive feeling across the organizations.

Another 'show-case' event, if you will, is the annual 'Ability Awards', co-presented by Cavin Kare. It was humbling - and inspiring - to see the efforts of the award winners for 2009. Overcoming loss of a limb, congenital defects or cerebral palsy, the winners have stuck to their chosen vocation with fierce determination. And, more importantly, each one of them is less worried about their own future, but is working to make life brighter for others who are similarly challenged.

The four award winners are at the extreme left (2), right and centre of the picture. To see them and hear them speak was indeed an unforgettable experience!

Birdspotting

The garbage dump at Pallikaranai may be stinking, but that doesn't prevent waterbirds stopping there during their winter migrations.

The black specks on the water are black winged stilts. I had never seen one earlier, and then, one Sunday, I got to see a few thousand of them!

Film factory

As a boy working in his father's general store in Karaikudi, Meiyappan was fascinated by the gramophone records that were brought in from Madras. His fascination led him to start Saraswathi Stores, dedicated entirely to music records, many of which were pressed by the Store itself. Most of the music was from the movies; thinking about it, the native business acumen of the Nattukottai Chettiars came through and Meiyappan decided he could produce the whole feature film rather than buy songs from other producers. Sailing forth on this dream, he found his first three movies - Alli Arjuna (1935), Ratnavali (1936) and Nandakumar (1938) - bombing. Meiyappan's response was to go further upstream; partnering with a couple of his friends, he set up Pragathi Studios in Madras.


The movies from Pragathi, in Tamizh and Kannada, including the country's first dubbed film, Harischandra (made by replacing the original Kannada voices with Tamizh ones), were successful and Meiyappan came to be known by his initials - AVM, for Avichi Meiyappan. Needing more space for his ambitions, but hampered from expanding beyond an office of the AVM Studios in Madras because of the II World War, AVM went back to his native Karaikudi. There, on Devakottai Road, he set up a 60' X 120' shed as AVM Studio's first production floor, in 1945.


Today, the initials AVM can be seen on several properties and buildings around Chennai. Though AVM moved away from producing movies for a while, they have come back strong and along with the Studios, they are buzzing away at the forefront of Tamizh entertainment. The original 60' X 120' shed was dismantled after the war, brought to Madras and reassembled on the third floor of AVM Studios. Since then, the pujas for any AVM Production project are always held on this floor!

Arriving hungry

Quick, which is the first eatery one sees on coming out from Chennai Central Station? If you answered "Buhari's", you are indeed a true Madrasi! They have been in Chennai since 1951 with their flagship restaurant on Mount Road. Not sure when the Central Buhari came up, but well, it has been around for as long as I can remember. Other hotels may have come up (and some gone, too), but Buhari is the place for that last biryani before getting into the unreserved coach to Jhumritalaiya or wherever!

Told you!

Not a sign that you'd expect to see in the midst of the city, isn't it? You've got to remember that Chennai is probably the only city in the world that has a national park right in its midst, completely within the city. The campus of the IIT Madras is next to the Guindy National Park and has a large-ish lake within it.

Who knows what other creatures lurk in the lake!

Centrepiece

The next time you go shopping around Panagal Park (preferably in the daytime), take out a few minutes to go into the Park itself. It may be a leap of faith for many of you, but you can take my word that Chennai's parks are much better maintained these days than they were a few years ago, so going into one is not really the test of courage (or foolishness) that it used to be.

If you walk inside a bit, you will see a clearing where stands a statue, rather reddish in colour, looking unkempt. The birds have had a free run on his turban and the detailing on his sherwani has been rubbed down, but his eyes look out with regal mien, disdainful of you standing under him, peering at the slab on the pedestal and trying to make out the letters on them. Not understanding the Telugu script - or not being able to read it because of the dirt of the ages, you surmise, quite reasonably, that it is the statue of the Raja of Panagal, after who the park is named.

But look closer. Then take a look at this other statue. With the Star of India at his side clearing all doubts, you will recognize this is Sir Pitty Theagaraya Chetty. In the locality that he has lent his name to, of which Panagal Park is but a part, the man's statue could have done with some more care!

Last vestiges

In its heyday, this building was the nerve centre of one of the three largest firms in Madras, businesses which gave impetus to the development of the city. Of the three, Parrys continues to do well, both within the Murugappa Group and as Parryware Roca, while Arbuthnot has moved to Kolkatta as Gillanders Arbuthnot. Binny, however, is almost forgotten after the sale of their textile mills; everyone in Chennai older than 20 would certainly have heard of them, even if they hadn't used any of Binny's products. There was a time when Binny's was the only brand for school uniforms and even more so for the khaki used by scouts or the NCC cadets. The mills which made those clothes are giving way to a township that is proposed to be built on that site.

Today, the most visible side of the building is the one on Armenian Street, with the colonnaded verandah of the first floor. But the arrangement of the working hall on the first floor, combined with a staircase that ends at a door opening to Erabalu Chetty Street indicates that the main entrance was on that side of the building once upon a time.

One hopes that this building, which still houses the offices of Binny Ltd does not suffer the same fate as its brother, the textile mill!

Learning irrelevance

The name is more a measure of confidence than any grandiosity. The Krishnamurti Foundation of India (KFI) takes forward the belief of Jiddu Krishnamurti that schools must provide a environment to explore larger existential issues in an atmosphere of freedom and responsibility. The first school established by the KFI was in 1931 at Rishi Valley in Andhra Pradesh (close to where Krishnamurti was born); today the KFI runs seven schools, include 'The School' in Chennai. Apart from these, there are four other 'non-foundation' schools which, though not run by the KFI, follow the principles for children's education as laid down by Krishnamurti. Those principles have influenced other schools around the world also.

The School was begun in Krishnamurti's lifetime; the school's website says it is 25 years old, but other sources trace the school's founding date to be sometime in 1973. Set in Damodar Gardens, part of the Theosophical Society's lands, the school appears to be much older than either date would indicate. For the most part, the natural settings of Damodar Gardens have been preserved and maintained. Children in the junior and middle schools - classes 1 to 7 - are placed in mixed age groups and go through the curriculum prescribed by The School. It is only in class 8 that the formal CICSE curriculum is adopted, enabling the students to appear for the ICSE examinations in classes 10 and 12. It is a stated desire of The School to not encourage competition, because they do not recognize any merit in it. With such a seemingly contrarian point of view, The School is not for anyone who is unable to recognize that the holisitic development of an individual is the aim of education.

Indeed, it would take a lot to even admit that one must learn about the "...importance of knowledge and its irrelevance." from a school, let alone from The School!

Token celebration

Here's another version of the lion capital that we saw atop the pillar at Ashok Nagar a few days ago. Another version not merely because of the change in colour (I think the Ashok Nagar one is by far better than these gilded lions), but also because that one is actually the complete Lion Capital of Sarnath; this, on the other hand is representative of the state emblem of the Republic of India. The inverted lotus, on which the lions are placed, is missing from this one, because that is not part of the State Emblem.

This column was placed at the junction of Radhakrishnan Salai and Kamarajar Salai, right on the Marina, in August 1997. It is possibly the only remaining symbol of time when India celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of its independence. I remember those celebrations as being very low-key, rather muted. Maybe a 5000-year legacy considers 50 years as just the blink of an eye.

The definition of the State Emblem (as seen here) shows only a two dimensional image; of the four lions standing with their backs to each other on the Lion Capital, only three can seen in the 2-D image. This one too has only three lions - or so I believe. I've never bothered to go around it to check if that's really the case!

Unplugged concert

The early birds at Nageshwara Rao Park know better than to raise their voices on the first Sunday of the month. At 6.30 am on that day, a child gets on to the stage area, raised slightly above the ground and keeps the listeners engrossed with his or her performance. Most of the time, it is a solo vocalist, usually accompanied by a mridangam and a violin. There have been group performances also - in the 37 Sundays since this concept took off, more than 200 children have taken to the stage, many of them for their debut performances. That's the whole idea of the 'Kutcheri (Concert) in the Park', nurtured by Sundaram Finance since inception.

Rather, the idea itself belongs to Sundaram Finance. Keeping in mind that the early morning walkers at the park, the company decided not to use mikes or speakers; in a way, that encourages the children, always under 15, some as young as 6, to put their lungs into their performance. It is not a shoo-in, for the company auditions applicants for the stage; it is said that the senior executives of Sundaram Finance enjoy a few hours of good music every month as they select the next kutcheri peformer!

Teaching trade unionism

Considering that Madras was born of a desire for cheap 'cloathe', it should not be a surprise that the first ever trade union in India was the Madras Textile Labour Union, formed in 1918. Within a very short time, the trade union movement gained popularity and several unions were formed, both in Madras and in other Presidency towns. In 1923, Madras was the venue for the country's first ever May Day Rally, presided over by Comrade Singaravelar, one of the pioneers of the labour movement. There were some firebrand union leaders who came out of Madras, including a certain R.Venkataraman, who went on to become a Union Minister and later the President of India.

The ardour cooled off in the late 1970s, after a rather violent strike by the Simpson and Group Company in 1971. Militant labour went west and the recent history of militant Indian trade unionism is more about Datta Samant and Rajan Nair in Bombay and Pune. Madras became a more peaceable industrial zone, though there were several instances of localised violence. For the past couple of decades, though, there haven't been any really bad spells of industrial unrest.

Is it possible that this institute, set up by the State Bank of India Officers' Association to offer programs on 'Trade Union Effectiveness' has something to do with the more aware union activists in this part of the country?

Smile, you're on camera!

Chennai is also following the other 'Big Brother' cities by installing trafficams to monitor traffic violations at some choke points in the city. London is probably the grand-daddy of the big brothers, the whole city awash with cameras capturing a huge store of life in the early 21st century. Chennai has begun modestly last year, putting in place 14 cameras - and maybe a few dummy domes - at different points. The results have been good, with fines worth Rs.50,000 being collected every day through trafficam bookings, on an average.

That revenue stream has enthused the city police to go ahead with installing more such eyes on the roads this year. Last year's cameras were rather unobtrusive, sitting on existing poles and crossbars, wherever possible. Now, with the flush of success, they are being positioned rather visibly, like this one where GST Road meets Pazhavanthangal. A few drivers will be frightened into obeying the road-rules, but the majority couldn't care two hoots.

Maybe because they knew that last year, when the cameras were first installed, 3 of the 4 monitors in the central control room were on the blink!

Day ticket

A few weeks ago, there wasn't even one, and now there are two. First off the blocks was the Tamilnadu Tourism Development Corporation (TTDC), on Feb 20; five days later, the Villupuram division of the Tamilnadu State Transport Corporation (TNSTC) launched their version, though under the TTDC's banner. It must have been inspired by the Open Bus Tours, but they've thankfully stopped short of cutting off the tops of the buses - Chennai is never meant to be an Open Bus location!

TTDC's version is an hourly hop-on-hop-off sevice on the Chennai - Mamallapuram stretch. At Rs.150 for a day ticket, you can spend the whole day at various spots along the ECR. The TNSTC version, though, stays within the city and covers 16 places of interest within Chennai. Priced at Rs.250/- per day, it seems a good way to have a quick look around - even though the look is restricted largely to south Chennai. One hopes these hop-arounds will move to other parts of the city, too!

End of the walk

This was a rather sad way for a 'Turtle Walk' to end; seeing a dead one washed up on the shore. Unfortunately, it is a sight that is becoming far too common. The eastern seaboard of India has nesting grounds for many of the seven known species of the turtle. Listed as 'Vulnerable' on the IUCN's Red List, the Olive Ridley is the most common visitor to the beaches of Chennai. Knowing the popular attractions, the Olive Ridleys have been careful to avoid the Marina, preferring the lesser known and therefore lesser expensive stretchs of the beach.

Trudging through beach sand for around 7 hours, looking for the nests or even for a lighthouse in the neighbourhood is not an ideal way to spend Saturday evening. But having done that, it is something that I would n't have missed. We walked for about 7 hours, from 1230 pm to 0330 and many of the group were disappointed at not having seen the maginicant turtles come up from the sea to lay their eggs, as they have been programmed to do over several generations. It is said that the Olive Ridley comes back to the spot where she was born, to lay her eggs.

In recent years, the turtle populations are faced with several disadvantages: the worst is from mechanized trawlers, whose nets are srong enough to go through the soft flesh of a the turtle's flipper or its neck, even. This one shows all the signs of having been strangulated - extremely sad. The redeeming part of the walk was watching 3 hatchlings struggle to walk for element: life does find a way, many times!

One-glass building

There are several buildings in the city that appear to have been abandoned half-way into their construction. The hotel that was originally intended to be the Magunta Oberoi is a very visible example, right on Mount Road, but there are several others all over the city. One such is this 10-storey builidng which is also on Mount Road, but does not catch the eye so readily because it is next to the Gemini Flyover and sheltered from view on almost all sides.

Also not so readily apparent is the ownership of this building; one theory is that a former Prime Minister's son had taken up this project with funding from a Chennai based bank but had to pull out when the bank was caught in a scam in the mid '90s. Another theory credits the scam for work on the building being halted, but points to an entertainment group as the owner. A third theory is that some apartments in this building had already been sold to individual owners and the holdup is because of a dispute between some buyers and the seller. For evidence in support of the third theory, they point to that window on the 8th floor - the only one that is covered with a glass window pane.

No, it is not that this apartment is occupied. It is said that the owner has been able to generate some revenue by renting his apartment out for movie shoots - and it has been used for several - where the interiors are re-created for each movie. The glass window pane however seems to be a standard fixture!

Okay, I'm stretching it a bit.... it is 'Theme Day' today and the theme is 'glass'... my best 'glass' photo and story was posted long ago! To see how other City Daily Photobloggers around the world have interpreted the theme, click here.

The city's Sarai

Abdul Hakim was a reasonably wealthy businessman in Visharam, a town about 150 km west of Madras. He had inherited a successful hides and skins business from his father; bursting with ideas, he must have travelled to Madras many a time to do business with the leather buyers who came to George Town from Calcutta, Delhi, Bombay and the Punjab, not to mention the British, who were there for trading, anyway. The hides and skins business continued to be successful and Abdul Hakim, now with the suffix of Saheb, moved into public life through several charitable acts, largely directed towards education in his native Visharam. The Melvisharam Muslim Educational Society that he founded in 1918 continues to be active, most recently in setting up the C. Adbul Hakeem College of Engineering at Technology.

Influenced in some small way by his contemporary Rajah Sir Ramasamy Mudaliar, Hakim Saheb turned his attention to the traveller to Chennai and built a rest house near the Central Station, quite close to the Choultry built by the Rajah. So it was that bands of travellers to Madras in 1920 now had one more excellent facility to put up their feet and relax. Named after Hakim Saheb's father, Siddique Sarai has separate quarters for men and women, as well as a mosque for the men. The projecting balconies with their sloped shade keep the sunlight out and the traveller cool.

Unlike the choultry, the Sarai has been in continuous use since it was opened and is a shade better maintained than its neighbour!

Complex entrance

Here's one more rajagopuram; unlike the one pictured on this blog earlier, this gopuram is as old as the temple and not a later addition. Also, this is the entrance not just to one temple, but an entire complex, with at least 10 sannithis (sanctums), a goshala (dairy) and lots of space, both open and covered, for devotees to sit awhile. There is also a garden with 27 nakshatra lingams - according to lore, the 27 stars of the Hindu lunar calendar have worshipped at this temple at some time or the other.

It does appear to be a temple beyond time; the stones on the outer wall appear to be sagging from the weight of the ages, but most of the complex is reasonably well preserved. Inscriptions on the temple pillars date it back to the time of the early Chola kings, about 1500 years ago. Looking at it from the bustle of present day Chennai, or even British Madras, Tiruvottiyur appears a rather odd location for such a large and prestigious temple. The Thyagarajar temple (or more completely, the Thyagaraja Swamy udanurai Vadivudaiamman temple) is therefore a very visible reminder of the existence of a thriving town - one among several that have now been embraced by Greater Chennai - long before the British arrived.

Middle school

The Corporation of Chennai runs free schools for children from extremely poor families. Though these schools lack facilities considered rudimentary by those from the more privileged sections, that must not be held against them. Students in such schools come from a mileu where a healthy child not going to work is seen as a loss of revenue - the incentive for parents to pull children, especially boys, out of school is very high. As for the girls, education was seen as a burden: for, according to them, no man would like an educated wife.

With all those factors against them, the Corporation Schools continue to function reasonably well. They get through the basic syllabus and give their students a feel of the opportunities available. At the high school exams, students from these schools have been registering a 'pass-percentage' of over 90% consistently over the past 5 years.

This school - and others like it - together have over 142,000 students in them. When the Corporation began its schools department in 1912, there were 40 schools under their wing. Today, the Education Department oversees 360 schools, including a Urdu High School and a Telugu one!

Sporting arena

Home - rather, office address - to almost all sports associations in the state, the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium is the best venue in Chennai for track & field events or football matches. It would be a great experience to watch an exciting match or soak in the thrill of serious running and jumping when the stands are full. But the capacity has rarely been tested, mainly because neither athletics nor football arouses serious passions in a Chennaite. Sure, Nallusamy Annavi first came onto the national scene at Madras about 20 years ago with his record setting high-jump effort, but he never considered himself a Madrasi and the fever his record created died out pretty quickly.

As for football, the stadium is rated for international games, but memory strains to recall a decent international football match here. There have been matches of the South Asian games and suchlike, but none that featured high-powered international stars - and there are few local stars in the game.

No wonder then that the stands appear deserted almost all the time. A few hundred spectators watching a league football match or a state-level athletics meet will hardly serve to fill the 40,000 seats in this stadium!

Crossing the street

It is rather difficult to believe that the humble pedestrian crossing turns 60 this year, having first been introduced at a thousand sites in Britain in 1949. It was done on an experimental basis, arising from the 1949 UN Conference on Road and Motor Traffic, during a 'Pedestrian Crossing Week'. In 1951, the pattern and the colours of the pedestrian crossing were formalised as the familiar alternating black and white stripes - within no time, they were being called 'zebra crossing'.

Once the zoological reference had been made, Britain seemed to wade into it time and again when naming their pedestrian signs. Apart from the zebra, there is the Pelican (Pedestrian Light Controlled) crossing, the Puffin (Pedestrian User Friendly Intelligent) crossing and the Toucan (Two-can) crossing - and then there is the Pegasus crossing, found near race courses. For more explanations of these crossings, click here.

Chennai doesn't have any animal crossing, other than the omnipresent zebra. This zebra moults, so it's coat has to be re-painted every once in a while. And here are a couple of policemen at it, early in the morning before the traffic starts to pick up. In 2007, the then Joint Commissioner of Police (Traffic) submitted before the Madras High Court that the city has 310 zebra crossings. That would take some painting, for sure!

And all along, one thought it was only the chicken that crossed the road!

Tangy stuff

What would south Indian cuisine be without this fruit? There would have been no sambar, rasam or puliyodarai without this tangy fruit to give them their distinctive flavour. It is a challenge to eat this fruit by itself, straight from the tree - not too many people would do it because the flavour is sharp and if you haven't ever tasted it, will wake you up double quick!

Almost every part of this tree can be used; the leaves and flowers are used in several dishes. The fruit, of course is the most commonly used part - eaten raw, pounded into a pulp with sugar added to it, stored in earthen pots and brought out a little at a time to add heft to the stock for sambar or rasam - a few years ago, small globules of these, sweetened with sugar, almost became a competitive advantage for one of the airlines, forcing everyone else in the skies to serve the same sweets.

For all that, this is not a native Indian tree. It came to India from Africa, but that move happened a very long time ago. Even the name - which has its roots in the Arabic phrase for 'date of Hind'- has a double dose of India in it. With a name like Tamarindus indica, it would be pointless trying to prove its foreign origins!

Heritage building

Arvind Adiga, author of 'The White Tiger', the Man Booker Prize winner for 2008, has strong ties to Chennai. To put it another way, Arvind's great-grandfather, Dr. U.Rama Rau was a man who contributed significantly to the development of Madras. Among the many things that Dr. Rama Rau did was to nurture the Music Academy, be a co-founder of the Indian Medical Association, establish the south Indian arms of the Red Cross and the St John's Ambulance Association, edit medical journals such as the Antiseptic and Health, all without neglecting the practice of medicine from his clinic on Thambu Chetty Street in George Town.

On a recent walk down the street, I was looking for some evidence of Dr. Rama Rau's descendents, many of who are still medical practitioners in Chennai. The closest I could get was this building: Sudharsana Building, dating from the early 20th century, housing Dr. U.Venkata Rao's clinic. It is as likely to be someone entirely unconnected with Dr. Rama Rau as not. But the combination of a heritage building (the picture of Krishna reminding one that Dr. Rau also had a pharmacy called Sri Krishnan Brothers) and the names of the doctors practicing there tilt the balance towards this being the same premises - 323, Thambu Chetty Street, George Town, Madras - that Dr. Rama Rau ran his practice from!

Rest a while

Hotel Tamilnadu is a brand owned by the Tamilnadu Tourism Development Corporation (TTDC). In most places around the state, Hotel Taminadu properties are recent creations, built by the Corporation itself. It is therefore somewhat curious that the Hotel Tamilnadu in Chennai is housed in a building which is more than a hundred years old. There is no record of the exact date when this building was completed, but it is reasonably estimated as being a late 19th century edifice - sometime around the 1880s. The TTDC took over this building a few years ago and has taken some care to clean up the facade and give it a lick of paint; thanks to that, one is inclined to forgive them the tacky 'Hotel Tamilnadu' sign that's up there.

This building has always been a rest-house; look closely at the black band below the sign and you'll notice it says "Rajah Sir Ramasamy Mudeliar Choultry", in Tamizh, English and Telugu. In colonial India, especially south India, choultries were free rest-houses, where travellers could stop overnight. With rail travel booming in popularity in the late 19th century, there was a need for such a rest-house close to Madras Central and the philanthropist Raja Sir Ramasamy stepped in to fill the need. Raja Sir Ramasamy was a self-made man, having to fend for himself (and probably his family, too) when his father was declared insolvent soon after moving to Madras from Pondicherry. Ramasamy started off as a dubash (interpreter) for an export-import company and must have done very well, for he had several titles - Rao Saheb, the CIE, the first Indian to be Sheriff of Madras (after 157 Britishers), the knighthood in 1887 and then the title of Raja for all the work he had done. With such a string of titles, it is pretty clear that he was no ordinary dubash, but a fine human being. There are many other charitable insititutions he founded - but I'll hold on to those for a separate post, sometime later.

This building itself is rather quaint; one enters through a thinnai to a series of rooms arranged around small courtyards; there were six such series, one of which was reserved for the Raja and his family. The other five were open to general public on the basis of their religion and caste: one for Mudaliars, Naidus and Pillais, one for Brahmins, one for Chettiars and Marwadis, one for Mohammedans and finally, one for native Christians and Eurasians. Hotel Tamilnadu makes no such distinctions, of course, even if some of the rooms are out of bounds!

Old and new

A locomotive in front of the Tambaram EMU workshop. Not sure how old this one is, but it is certainly not as old as the workshop itself, for it was installed there only in 2006, to mark the platinum jubilee of the workshop.

"Ancient Platinum", indeed!

Cut the clutter

It took me a long time to understand that 'mess' had another meaning than just a clutter. Until that knowledge took the charm away, it was fun to imagine a building where army officers would drop their stiff, disciplined, spit 'n' polish image and start mucking around. As a kid, everytime I saw this sign at St Thomas Mount, it took me to an image of officers behaving in the most un-gentlemanlike fashion.

In fact, even after learning that 'mess' could also describe a dish, or a place where meals are served to a specifc group, it was difficult to wipe away the earlier image. It was merely modified to one where the officers were being extremely clumsy about eating their food!

This was one of the two signs which fascinated me as a child; the other one is here

Music hall

That's not really a fitting description of this building currently. But when it was opened in 1953, it was meant to be the premier hall for music concerts. The Music Academy was more a wandering minstrel rather than a court musician in those days, the inauguration of its permanent home almost a decade away. In the meantime, Raja Muthiah Chettiar was consolidating the musical legacy of his father, Raja Sir Annamalai Chettiar; a legacy that was based on bringing Tamizh music to the level of the Carnatic stage. The Raja was passionate about it, and had even started a college for Tamizh music as far back as 1929.

In 1943, he founded the Tamil Isai Sangam; given that his house was farther to the south, it might today seem somewhat surprising that the 62-year old Raja chose to base his Sangam in the Esplanade area. But in those days, there were still enough lovers of classical music in George Town and further north. Plus, the concentration of Carnatic music fans in the south of the city might have prompted the Raja to get as far away from them as possible. In 1953, when this building was inaugurated, it became the headquarters of the Tamil Isai Sangam.

Raja Annamalai Mandram, as this builiding was named, is but one of the several reminders of the enormous influence of a giant of Madras. It is a pity this building does not get its share of public mindspace as a temple of music!

Counting bars

The last inmate walked out of the door a couple of years ago, towards the end of 2006. Well, he may not have walked out, but would have been taken out in a vehicle, being moved to his new home at Puzhal. Since then, the Central Prison at Park Town had been lying empty, waiting for the wreckers. Until a few days ago, when the DGP (Prisons) decided that the gates would be open for public to visit the prison compound and take a look at the prison blocks. The public, of course, came in their thousands. For the vast majority of these visitors, the only image of a jail was a little room in the movie, where the convict with the heart of gold, when being released would tell the warder, "Aiyya, naan poyittuvaren": to which the official would reply, "'Poyittuvaren'nu sollatheppa, 'poren'nu sollu"*. Reality was ghastly - the less said about it, the better.

Built over a 11-acre space in the middle of the city, the Chennai Central Prison was built in 1837. It replaced an older debtors' jail which was itself close to the 'Blacks Town', and was used for almost a century. The prison blocks reflect the thought of those days, the cells stern and unforgiving, the walls high enough to deter climbers and yet not so high as to cut off all view of the free world outside. Later, with the suburban trains passing just outside the western wall of the prison, inmates would be reminded every now and then of the rush of the world outside. The Chennai Central Prison was not the largest in the state, for it was originally intended as a transit remand camp, where convicts would be housed for a few days on their way to one of the larger jails: pre-Independence, it was a holding point en route to Kala Pani in the Andamans. Later, it became a stopping point by itself.

The new complex at Puzhal, covering Central Prisons I & II, has a capacity of accommodating 2500 prisoners; that's double the capacity that the Chennai Central Prison had. But spread over 212 acres, the Puzhal complex would surely have no sight of freedom for the inmates looking out through its bars!

* Transliterated, the dialogue is "Sir, I will go and come", with the jailor replying "Don't say you'll 'go-and-come', just say you're 'going'".... a line that has become hackneyed over decades of use! See more pictures of the Chennai Central Prison complex here.

Bigtop backyard

The circus is not what it used to be. The government banned lions and tigers from performing in travelling circuses a few years ago and that was one of the last nails in a coffin that seems to be waiting for the final one. The ban no doubt helped hundreds of the big cats to be rescued from a life where they were caricatures of their natural self; at the same time, it brought down even those companies where the animals were being treated with care. Today's circuses do not offer much by way of wildlife, depending on human skills to keep the audience enthralled.

And there are still many who are in awe of the performers. Acrobats and gymnasts in their glittering costumes, the dare-devil motorcycle riders defying gravity and motion-sickness as they spin around inside a globe, the clowns trying hard to be funny: there is still an audience that takes them all in. In Chennai, that audience knows where to go when a circus is in town. Shows have always been at the South India Athletics Association ground, no matter which company is putting it up. Once the cirucus comes to Chennai, it takes a while for it to go back; with high cost of transport for the human and animal performancers, and the set up costs at a new location, the circus stays on in a city for at least three months.

The picture here is the backyard of the Gemini Circus, currently on at the SIAA grounds in Chennai. One of the old-time companies - Gemini had its first performance on Independence Day in 1951 - it still struggles to find ways to meet costs, while competing with movies, TV and the X-boxes. Away from the crowds, the glitter is gone, just the dull grey remains!

The land of the King

Of course India claims the game for its own, because it has evolved from the ancient game of chaturang or shatranj, both of which even sound similar to 'chess', as the game is known now. Chaturang ('four arms' or 'four divisions') is reputedly the more ancient game, known so because it simulates the four sections of the armies of yore - elephants, chariots, cavalry and infantry. During the 6th and 7th centuries, chaturang spread to Persia, where it became more formalised. Some of the common terms used today were adapted from the Persian descriptions (e.g., 'Checkmate', being derived from 'Shah mat', meaning 'the king is dead'), as the game spread from Persia to Europe, where the rules of modern game were crafted.

Tamil Nadu, and Chennai, can lay claim to having fostered India's current high profile in the world of chess. Though chess in India is most commonly associated with Viswanathan Anand (read his piece in 'Time'), India's first Grandmaster, the game's popularity was earlier nurtured by Manuel Aaron, the first ever International Master from India, and the first chess player to be honoured with the Arjuna Award for Chess. Aaron moved to Tamil Nadu from Burma (then a British colony), where he had most probably leant his basics; Anand whetted his appetitie for chess as a seven-year old in the Philippines. Thanks to Aaron's efforts and Anand's fame, Tamil Nadu has been a force in the national chess scene - and the Tamil Nadu State Chess Association has several tournaments conducted under its banner throughout the year - almost one every fortnight, on an average.

At this tournament over the weekend - the Chennai district selection tournament - there were only 3 categories: under-7, under-11 and the senior open. There were about a 150 children taking part in the under-7 & -11 categories put together - and there were several children who were in their early teens, or even less, taking on the seniors in the open category. Talk about catching them young!

Chaos Central

That's what it seems like, doesn't it? The Chennai Central railway station has such a fascinating - and distinctive - forecourt that one can actually spend hours watching the ebb and flow of life at its doorstep.

As I watched this afternoon, the crowd seemed very disciplined; they were waiting for the light to change. It did, to allow the vehicles to make their left turn on to Poonamallee High Road. The crowd, too, chose that exact moment to dash across the road. There are a couple of cops, and a prowl car, too, in this photo (can you spot them?), but what's one man or a car against half-a-hundred determined jaywalkers!

The pillar

Though Anna Nagar was the first properly planned and laid out part of Madras, it was not the city's first attempt at creating a 'colony'. That honour goes to a part of the city that was once a vast guava grove, just beyond the place where the Nawab of Arcot used to stable his horses. The stable doors were bolted after the horses disappeared quite a while ago; the groves stayed on for longer. Sometime in the early sixties, in a fit of national pride, a large clearing was made in the grove and a tall pillar was erected. The pillar was topped off with the Lion Capital from Sarnath - which is the National Emblem of India.

Within a year or so, four roads radiated out from the pillar and they were criss-crossed by others. In a limited way, the area was segregated into housing, commercial and educational sections. Circa 1964, when it was kind of ready for occupation, naming it was easy though it went back all the way to the 3rd century BC. Emperor Ashoka, who ruled over most of today's India in those years, who set up several 'lion capitals' over his empire, also lent his name to the township.

Ashok Nagar shows little signs of its original plans today. The pillar continues to tower over it; and 'Ashok Pillar' continues to be one of Chennai's most recognizable landmarks even today!

Birds of a feather

Islands of Barringtonia at the Vedanthangal sanctuary; and no, the white specks are not Barringtonia flowers or jasmine buds. If you click on the photo, you'll get to see they are all birds and that most of them are made from the same feather. Those are the egrets; somewhere in between them are a few grey herons. It is easy to make them out for they are not only slightly larger, but have grey feathers unlike the all-white egrets.

200 years ago to the day was born a man who looked not only at the feathers but also the beaks of small birds that he saw - and collected - on a voyage to a group of islands as a 22-year old. It took him another 28 years to put together all his thoughts into a coherent theory, one that shook up the world of natural science. It is a nice coincidence and somehow appropriate that the world celebrates both the 200th birthday of Charles Darwin and the 150th anniversary of the publication of his work "The Origin of Species" this year.

Celebrations of the man's birthday in Chennai are muted. There were a few posters around which indicated that the significance of the day has not been entirely missed!

Reverse image

'Just Married' vehicles are not a common sight on Chennai roads. Also, the cars - limos, if you insist on calling decorated sedans that way - hired during weddings usually come with windows covered with sun-control film in several shades darker than what's seen on this car.

So it is very likely this car is a wedding gift, to be parked outside the marriage hall for the guests to marvel at. While the newlyweds would not use it to travel on their honeymoon, it would be the one for their use when they settle into domestic bliss. At least that is how it used to be; a couple of months ago, there was this newspaper article about a 'gift-car-market' having blossomed in north India. That was around the same time this photo was taken... is there such a market coming up in Chennai too?

From Maharashtra to Madras.

It looks like just another temple. If it is a Friday, you'd probably be sure that it is just another of those 'Amman' temples which become animated on Friday afternoons with the womenfolk coming by to offer 'koozhu' to the Goddess who is the main deity here. Add those crowds to the packed mass of bodies that is Thambu Chetty Street and you have a potential recipe for a longjam lasting into next Wednesday.

That's what comes of having a gopuram which seems to be mass produced rather than one created just for this temple. The rajagopuram seen in this picture is just about a couple of decades old, having been set up in the late 1980s. What the it hides is a temple that has been at this spot for at least 300 years; legend has it that the temple was originally closer to the sea, but was re-located to this spot in 1640. That may not be borne out by available data and records, but more reliable is the visit of Chhatrapati Sivaji to this temple. On a campaign to south India, Sivaji stopped overnight at the nearby Armenian Street. He then offered prayers at this temple on October 3, 1677. Inside the temple there is a picture of Shivaji and a plaque recording his visit.

No one seems to know what the outcome of Shivaji's campaign of 1677; it must have been successful, for Shivaji became a nuisance beyond any borders for the British!

Messenger for Peace

It really didn't matter what the lady spoke about; the platform was 'Roots and Shoots', but having been founded by her, it still hasn't grown to such an extent that it can ignore the cachet that comes from being a 'Program of the Jane Goodall Institute'.

Of course there was talk about the chimpanzees, the ones that Dr. Jane Goodall, D.B.E., studied and lived with during the 1960s and the 70s. It was thrilling to have her speak in Chennai, to encourage everyone to get involved with some effort - any effort - to make the world we leave behind an environmentally safer one than what it is today. Having a local showpiece - the Olive Ridleys nesting in Chennai - made sure that anyone inspired after her talk yesterday could kick into action right way!

Laid-back house

As with most things old and stately, this house - Mithila - on TTK Road would also be easy to miss, but for the sudden contrast it makes with its neighbours. Where all the other buildings along the road try to get as close to the road as possible, this one stands back, allowing a sweep of driveway to get to the house. Walking down the driveway, one gets a chance to admire the different trees that have been planted all around the house, creating a feeling of it being more jungle lodge than house.

It is a house, of course, one that has been well maintained by Mrs & Mr Nagoji Rao. The high ceilings, topped off with the Madras Terrace - something that I had not seen for long years - helped to keep the heat off one's back. At first look, the house appears symmetrical, but it is not entirely so. Of course, the verandahs on the sides have now been covered with grilles and are therefore quite different from the one in front. But it is the corner rooms that are fascinating; two of them are heptagons and the other two are hexagons, something that is not recognizable until one is actually inside those rooms.

The house was built in 1931 by T Ramachandra Rao, who was a descendent of one of the oldest Maharashtrian families to have settled in Madras. Ramachandra Rao was a successful businessman, and was also very much into public life. It is certainly not a coincidence that the Maharastra Nivas in Chennai is just a couple of doors away from Mithila!

Terrible lizard

Sir Richard Owen searched around for a word to describe the creature whose fossils he had found and chose to make a portmanteau of the Greek words deinos (fearful) and sauros (lizard). He probably didn't realize that the word would go on to become a cover-all for an entire set of creatures that came and went over a span of 65 million years. Today, kids under 10 will reel off the names of at least 20 individual species of that era without once thinking of them as dinosaurs - but that's the only way adults seem to be capable of describing them.

It is heartening to see that the Children's Museum in Chennai does not pander to adults, but gives the Tyrannosaurus its proper name on their website. This fibreglass model was installed, along with that of a Stegosaurus, about 25 years ago and has been quite popular with the visitors; in fact, there is a museum at Palayamkottai which has replicated it for its display. Even allowing for a liberal interpretation of what the Tyrannosaurus might have looked like, the eyes make it out to be more fearful than fear-inducing; the colours have been changed over the last generation. I seem to remember both animals being ruddy-brown when they made their first appearance, rather than the green-and-cream scheme they've been bestowed with now.

Interestingly, Greek mythology also describes Deino as a gray witch, who shared one tooth and one eye with her two sisters. This dino does not have to do things like that, at any rate!

Sports day

'tis the season to be sporty!

Sun's not too cruel, most of the acads are done, the exams are just that couple of days away - so, have fun on school sports day!!

Fairgrounds

As kids, it was an outing that we looked forward to with a mixture of excitement and horror. The trade fair (The All India Tourism and Trade Fair) was the place where one could gorge on panjumuttai without the grown-ups pouring cold water all over it, where their barriers to buying bubble blowers or camphor-fired boats were waiting to be smashed down, where one could walk around aimlessly for a few hours watching all the glories of 'India is my country'. That was the excitement part of it.

The horror came in several forms; the dread of being separated from the group and becoming an easy target for one-eyed kidnappers - well, that's how all the movies showed them, whenever the kid was to be napped from a fairground: the revulsion on seeing pictures of careless jaywalkers smashed to pulp on the posters urging everyone to use pedestrian crossings: the pickled embryos of chicken, sheep and such other beasts that the Animal Husbandry department threatened us with, year after year.

Things haven't changed too much, but the fair has become an 'Industrial Fair' and is more gaudy than it used to be. There is no horror now, however, for it is all 'fun' and 'joy' all around. A few embryos are still floating, but are 'presented scientifically'. The cotton candy still wisps in the breeze; but the breeze brings the real-world stench of the Cooum and the Buckingham Canal - they can't do much about that traumatic reality!