Beat the heat

Now that summer is back - even in Chennai, it does go away for a bit, you know - the heat busters are in great demand. Cold sodas and all that are fine, they will give you some relief, but what you really need is some old-fashioned coolers. Like the water from tender coconuts, or even palm nuts, but the latter are not as commonplace as coconuts, and not too many people know how cooling they can be.

Chennai is sweltering already, even though it is nowhere near the peaks that would come during the agni nakshatram (fire star) phase. The forecast high for that period is 48 degrees. And yes, that is in Celsius - it will take a lot of elaneer (tender coconut water) to cool that off!

Party TV

Well, it is not what you think it is, for sure. Rather, if you thought of it as anything other than a medium of political propaganda, then you surely haven't yet caught on to that part of Chennai's spirit! Kalaingar TV has its offices in the same building that houses the DMK's party headquarters. That would certainly make for some interesting scoops!

Start of the Road

There was a time, until even about 70 years or so ago, when this used to be called 'The Mount Road'. That name came from the British era, but the throughfare existed much before that, passing along the sides of the villages of Chengalpattu, Pallavapuram, Mylapore, Egmore and all the way on to Tiruvottiyur. By the 17th century, this throughfare had also become the path for the Europeans - remember, the Portugese were here much before the British established themselves - to get to the site of St Thomas' martyrdom.

The British viewed the space around St Thomas' Mount as an ideal area for rest and recreation. That it had spiritual connections was an added advantage. The Council at Fort St George purchased a garden house at St Thomas' Mount as early as 1685 and it was put to use for sick and disabled soldiers to recuperate in. With that 'remote' outpost established, traffic from the Fort increased and 'The Road to the Mount' became an important one, leading out from the southwestern gate of the Fort.

Today, that gate is no longer in use. Mount Road comes in, rushing through the commercial areas, opening out just after Pallavan Salai to give the traveller a good view of Sir Thomas Munro seated, saddle-less, and then rushes over the Cooum before stopping abruptly at this point. And then turns away, suddenly losing itself into Muthuswamy Road (to its left) and Flagstaff Road!

All you might need

Poojas in a temple need a lot of things to be part of the offering. These days, very few people know what items are required, but yet, they just breeze to the temple with the confidence that there would be enough makeshift shops outside selling all the ingredients one might need for a normal, straight-forward pooja.

Flowers are essential, of course. You have a choice of the arali (Nerium indicum), the jasmine (Jasminum auriculatum), the lotus (Nelumbo nucifera), the rose (genus: Rosa) and, because this one is close to the Kapaleeshwarar temple, the nagapushpam (Couroupita guianensis) also. And then you have the grasses - I believe that's the darbha grass, used as a purifying agent in sacred rituals. Finally you have the coconuts and the charad - the small earthern lamps, either filled with ghee or as just the shells.

The agarbattis seem to be missing here - or maybe I'm missing something about the poojas to be performed at this temple!

Local office

The greater agglomeration of Chennai has 3 representatives in Parliament. Very conveniently, the 3 constituencies in Chennai are North, Central and South. In the picture is the office of the Member of Parliament for Chennai South. Situated just behind the Pondy Bazaar police station, this building is normally deserted through the day and for most of the week too, especially when the Parliament is in session.

Things haven't changed much, even when election time has come around. Obviously the MP's office is not the place to meet party workers, but was still surprised to see this kind of propriety being maintained. Maybe it was just the time I passed by? Hope not!

The house by the river

By some quirk of history, the Southern Command of the Indian Army is headquartered at Pune, in Maharashtra. Apart from the four southern states, Maharashtra, Goa and Gujarat (!!) also come under the Southern Command. It is not only the largest Command geographically, but also the 'senior-most'; the latter arising from the fact that Surat (in Gujarat), the site of the East India Company's first 'factory' in India, falls under this Command.

The two Area Headquarters under the Southern Command are at Mumbai and Chennai. Needless to say, the one at Chennai covers the four southern states - in army shorthand, it is ATNK & K Area. The ranking officer becomes the General Officer Commanding in Chief for the Area HQ. Of course, the GOC-in-C has a very nicely appointed house to live in; across the road is a sign that could well have become gibberish to the civilian had they insisted on putting in the 'GOC-in-C' bit also - it would have read "ATNK & K Area GOC-in-C, Flagstaff House"

That the Flagstaff House is on the banks of the Cooum is certainly a disadvantage, but one that can easily be borne by Maj. Gen. EJ Kochekkan, the current occupant. A lifelong armyman, he's certainly not going to be put off, no matter how many mosquitoes try to raid his residence!


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Empty station

Although it is nearly a generation old, the Mass Rapid Transit System is still fairly new in terms of its adoption by the general public. Unlike the Metro systems of New Delhi or Kolkata, Chennai's MRTS decided to use the same rakes that were being used by its existing suburban train system. Maybe folks saw it as being an extension of the existing network, with all of its downsides and the only upside being that the MRTS trains were now servicing areas of the city where people had had no reason to use suburban trains. Whatever the reason be, it is only over the past three or four years that the MRTS has become a transport mode of choice.

The stations too, lack the bustle of those on the older lines. With almost all stations being raised above the ground level, the noise of the streets does not rise up to the platforms; neither does the crowd and the silence of the tunnel-like station seems quite eerie. But I'm told that Tirumailai station is this way only because it is a Sunday; on weekdays, it can do a passable imitation of a busy suburban train station!

Morning papers

Despite the spread of the Internet and a seemingly infinite variety of television channels, the print media still continues to be a major - if not the major - source of news for the Chennaiites. The Registrar of Newspapers for India, on its website, indicates that there are 5,634 titles being published from Chennai, from dailies to annuals. That data is for the year 2005-06, but considering that in that year, 2074 new titles were registered (all over India) and only four ceased publication, it is reasonable to assume that there are close to 6000 titles being published from the city currently. Sure, that count includes titles like 'Zoo Zoo Zinzu', which I have never ever seen (or even heard of, before today), so you can still go ahead with that plan you had to launch an eveninger next week.

Yet, pause. Look through those numbers again and you'll find that there are 69 dailies in English alone. 386 in Tamil. 492 in all, including Gujarati and Marathi titles. Of course, the newspaper reader in Chennai is spoiled for choice, but obviously so many will not be available at your local newsstand. When you go there, you'll have - let's say, about 6 English dailies (and maybe another 4 business dailies in English), 8 in Tamil, maybe 4 in Telugu and a couple each in Kannada, Malayalam and Hindi. By that reckoning, the range in this shop seems to be par for the course.

I need to find out more about that Zoo Zoo Zinzu - both the daily and the weekly that are supposedly being published from Chennai!

Election fever

Okay, the parliamentary elections are still a month away, so the noise and the mess of the campaigns are yet to hit the city. These - what does one call them - decorations (?) came up outside the party headquarters of the DMK when their candidate won a by-election at Madurai a few months ago.

Sure, we can expect more colours lining the roads over the next few weeks - but not too many more. Almost every local party makes do with just five colours - white, black, red, yellow and blue. One would have thought that a new party would choose a contrasting colour, just to differentiate... but no, they just don't seem to want to!

From many, to one

Once upon a time, there were just a few houses along Mowbray's Road, with each of them having large grounds around them. The extent of the 'largeness' is not easy to comprehend, but going into the gates of 'The Grove' will give you some sense of it.

The Grove is the also name of a school run by the CP Ramaswamy Iyer Foundation. It is a very apt name, for there are several trees protecting you from the sun in almost all parts of the grounds. The school is not the only building that you see; there are a couple of others, too. Your eyes, however, will be drawn towards this magnificent building; a building that has been around for almost 125 years. Inside, the rooms are a mix of the spacious and the cramped, the latter probably serving as guest rooms or something, for those single male visitors staying over. As you look around this building, you will also learn that sometime in the early 1900s, it was only a part of the property purchased by Sir CP Ramaswamy Iyer's father, a part that was most likely set aside for the son. Sir CP added the first floor of this building and made sure that used some very high quality materials - teak from Burma, marble from Venice, ceiling tiles from Belgium - as he renovated The Grove to his liking.

Today, this builidng houses the officers of the Foundation and an art gallery. As you walk out, you will reflect on the fact that the larger property was called The Baobab; the memory of that one tree is only in The Grove of today!

Another version

The state emblem is supposedly sacrosanct and should be represented without any modifications (atte copy, as the Chennaiite would say), in the manner prescribed. The state emblem, as you might know by now, is itself based on an ancient design, that of the pillar erected by Emperor Ashoka at Sarnath sometime in the 3rd century BC. It would have been less complicated if the great Emperor had raised just the one pillar; but he is supposed to have erected quite a few (though only 10 have been found) and had also inspired others to raise similar pillars. So much so, the basic design of a tall column topped off with the 'Dharmachakra' and a few animals can be found in several places, not just across India, but also far away, at Wat U Mong, Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Therefore, one cannot rake up an argument that the state emblem has been mis-represented; just because there's a lion capital in a public place, it does not automatically become a representation of the state emblem, you see. This is the third Ashoka Pillar I know of in Chennai, after the ones at Ashok Nagar and on the Marina. Of those two, I am fairly sure that only the latter is the state emblem. This one, as well as the Ashok Nagar Pillar, are merely representations of Ashoka's pillars.

But that does not mean you can fool around with Ashoka and his lions - The State Emblem of India (Prohibition of Improper Use) Act, 2005 will deal with you if you try any such stunts!

Location. And more of it.

Karumuttu Centre is one of those buildings that start off with aspirations of being monuments to the person they are named after. To develop on that start, it painted itself in a way that stood out from the 'half-white' and cream coloured neighbours to its north; to the south, it did not have any worthwhile building to compare itself with for a stretch of around half-a-kilometre and maybe more. The pencil-shaving kind of staircase (is that a fire-escape?) was certainly an oddity, because its neighbours do not have that kind of an external access.

It did attract some of the more swank names, especially a host of foreign airlines, who made it their flagship office in Chennai. But the building failed to capitalize on that good start; the majority of the space there is taken up by offices that are so cheered by the thought of being on Mount Road that nothing else matters to them. It is not as if the construction is bad or the rents exhorbitant; Karumuttu Centre is a perfect example for how the "three most important things in real estate are Location, Location and Location". If only this building had been a couple of spaces to the north, it would have had a long waiting list of people wanting to be housed there. As it is, being just to the left of the Cenotaph Road signal, it is a considerable pain for anyone coming in from Alwarpet or Adyar to get in - a long drive south to make a U-turn is called for. With the kind of traffic around, that is not an exciting prospect for anyone!

An ocean

It is a terrible thing, cerebral palsy is. Any disorder of the nervous system is heart wrenching, but CP is especially so, because, in more than 95% of the cases, the condition strikes before the age of 3. Unable to articulate desires, wants or even needs, the patient has to be helped through his or her entire life. Since CP primarily affects the motor control centres of the cortex, the rest of the brain is in fine shape, which it makes the condition especially challenging for the care givers.

One of the earliest institutions in the city - if not actually the first - to help children with the condition is Vidya Sagar. In fact, it is not aimed only for the children, but for the parents also; many a time, it is the grown-ups who feel more defeated and despondent. The children know of no such thing as 'giving up'. For them, every day is a celebration of life! The challenge is to make sure the children are able to stand up for themselves and can continue to do that through their life.

Far easier said than done, but the team at Vidya Sagar has just begun their work. Their early proteges are now adults and are coping reasonably well in a society where there are but few opportunities for inclusion. The first twenty-four years have established Vidya Sagar as a key resource in Chennai for children with special needs. The next quarter century will show that Chennai can be truly proud of Vidya Sagar and its students!!

Anniversary

For as long as I can remember, Tamil New Year used to be on April 14; at least, even today, if someone were to ask me about it, the spontaneous answer would be "April 14". But last year was a kind of a double whammy. For starters, Tamil New Year was celebrated on April 13 - okay, it was the 1st of Chittirai of Tiruvalluvar Aandu 2039 - in 2008, throwing a few people off track. And then the Government of Tamil Nadu had announced that, thanks to research by over 500 scholars, the Tamil New Year was being changed to the 1st of Thai, beginning 2009.

Having decided that I would start this blog on Tamil New Year's day, I was kind of prepared to start on April 13, 2008, even though I had been thinking of the next day. Given all the confusion around the dates, here I was, thinking that today would mark the close of the first year of this Chennai Daily Photo blog and I would begin a New Year tomorrow! Thanks to Ramanan for setting me right - so here's a rather 'unthought of' photo to mark the New Year for this blog!!

That's a picture from the top of St. Thomas Mount - right now, it kind of symbolizes to me that there is so much more about Chennai that remains to be said; the first 365 days have only begun the story.

Thank you all, who have dropped by, stayed on, encouraged, humoured or have suffered through this for the last year. Just you wait, there is more to come!!

Artistic asymmetry

When you stand directly in front of what was once the main entrance to this building (that's the middle arch, now partially walled up), you will be struck by the lack of balance between its two sides. Though this perspective does not show it up that prominently, you can still make out the differences between the two sides. Without doubt, it was done deliberately by Robert Fellowes Chisholm, when he designed it almost one hundred and fifty years ago, because it appears to be something that might well have been cutting edge in the 1860s - and this is a building which needed a cutting-edge design.

Founded as a private institution by Dr. Alexander Hunter in 1850, the Madras School of Arts was taken over by the Government within two years. Though Dr. Hunter continued to be in charge, the institution was renamed the Government School of Industrial Arts, with an Industrial department that turned out building material and accesories, while the Artistic department focussed on drawing / painting, engraving and pottery. Over time, the School included other specializations like photography, sculptre and extended into metal-working. Though the Madras School was not the first formal school for art in India, it was a formidable counterpoint to the Bengal School, producing some of the famous artists and sculptors of the time. Rather ironically, its first Indian principal, in 1929, was Devi Prasad Roy Choudury who had studied his art in the Bengal School and then broke away from it. The Madras School has also had its share of break-aways, the most famous being the Cholamandal Artists village, founded by KCS Panicker, a former principal of the College of Arts and Crafts (as it is now known) along with some of his former students.

It is easy to pass by this building, right on Poonamallee High Road, without paying much attention to it. But the next time, look out for a unique feature of this building; the fish-scale roof tiles (you can see them if you click on the photo to enlarge it), which are rarely to be found anywhere these days!

Learning of temple?

Looking at it from across the road, one is sure it is a Jain temple; the distintictive whiteness of soapstone and marble, unique to these temples, is a giveaway. But the entrance throws a googly at you. Though it does say "Shree Jain Prarthana Mandir", it goes on to also describe the Guru Shree Shantivijai Jain College for Women, leaving one confused if it is two-in-one structure.

From what is visible over the walls, there seems little chance of holding classes in what seems to be a multi pillared, open-hall kind of arrangement on the first floor. The students, however are not required to be inside this building, though it was built to encourage them to be more devout. A rather unusual feature of this temple is that it has two chief deities; on the ground floor is Gurudev Yogiraj Shanti Sureshwari. He is in the standard mode, back to a wall, facing all the devotees. On the first floor, the idol of Shree Parshvanathji, the 23rd Thirthankara, is in the middle of the hall, facing all four directions. That seems to be a really unique way of keeping watch on everything that's going around!

Shifting sands

From the War Memorial right down to the lighthouse by the Gandhi Statue, the Marina beautification project has been at it for the past year and more. It was supposed to have been completed by end of January this year, but I suspect it still has a bit more to run before one can declare the Marina Beach 'beautified'.

Not that the Marina needed 'beautification' in the manner determined by the Corporation of Chennai. All it needed - and continues to need - is the deployment of public amenities in large quantities, to make sure that there is no litter clogging up the beach. Of course, controlling the indiscriminate spread of makeshift stalls and other commercial ventures on the beach would also go a long way in the beautification.

But, until people realize that there is a beauty in letting things be, machines like these will keep ploughing the sand this way and that to create the artifice; they forget what John Keats said,

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that's all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know"*

*John Keats, 'Ode on a Grecian Urn', lines 49-50

Measure for measure

On Erabalu Chetty Street, life is all about trading. If it means taking up a part of the road to transact the business of life, so be it.

It doesn't look like much, but those steel strips being weighed are really heavy - you could sense it when they were being lifted on to the scale and later, when they were taken off. I did not get to see the reading, but I'm sure they represented a significant number for the traders taking the weight in the picture.

Significant enough for them to not bother about the lady trying to walk past or the school kid who is hurrying back home. And if I had to hop over the strips to go my way, it is no skin off their back!

Got it covered

As a shopping hotspot, Purasawalkam does not quite have the draw that T.Nagar has, but it can hold its own against almost any other locality for retail shopping. But a few decades ago, Purasai was the place to go to for almost anything; and it was especially favoured for clothing and textiles. Some of the early clothing 'store brands' of Madras were from this area. Glimpses of old glory can still be seen today - clothing stores line both sides along a stretch of Purasawalkam High Road.

In the early 1920s, this building - Venkatarathnam Mahal - would have been one of the many that housed several families. Carrying out their trading activities, these families would have used the ground floor more for their business, with the upper floor being the more private, family quarters. Today, hemmed in by its newer neighbours, it attempts to cover all its shortcomings by the catchy signages and displays at the street level. Upstairs is another story, though!

The good doctor

It was 1957 and the 'Asian Flu' had begun to spread out from China, where it had originated. Memories of the Spanish Flu of 1918 were quite fresh; when a second wave of the Asian Flu began in 1958, it caused general panic in the regions it struck. Madras was not immune to it and hundreds in the city fell ill and the doctors had a field day, trying out all kinds of concoctions on suffering patients. Each of them had his own presciption, in all probably mixed up by a loyal 'compounder', jealously guarded and claiming greater efficacy than that of competitors. It is not surprising that all these doctors raised a hue and cry when, in an interview to a popular weekly, Dr. Guruswamy Mudaliar suggested that the tablet 'Elkosin' was probably the best cure for the raging 'flu. They claimed that Dr. Guruswamy had violated medical ethics by naming a specific brand.

Their alarm was well-founded. Dr. Guruswamy had made his reputation by keeping his mouth shut, listening to his patients, relying on 'percussion diagnosis' even where it was not traditionally used. Though well off, he was modest and frugal; and yet, Dr. Guruswamy would never treat anyone, no matter how poor, without a fee, because he was convinced that if anything was free, it was without value. His brilliance in medicine meant that he could not be denied a full professorship at the Madras Medical College - and so he became the first Indian to hold the post of Professor of Medicine, in the early 1920s. This was the man who had been interviewed during the 'flu epidemic and had voiced his opinion on the mode of treatment. According to him, the service of humanity overruled the ethics of the profession in this situation.

Dr Guruswamy died that same year, 78 years old and still capable of rattling the 'modern' doctors of his time. When a bridge was built near where he lived in Kilpauk, there was only name that could be given to it - a name that it continues to bear today!

Stable

There was a time when a hugh area in Madras was completely given over to the horses belonging to the Nawabs of Arcot. There were stables there, but those were only to lock the horses into - with the weather being pretty dry most of the time, the horses were often let loose inside the garden, without much fear of their catching a cold or anything. That garden of horses (ghoda-bagh) went on to become the Kodambakkam of modern times.

These stables in the picture do not threaten to go that way, mainly because there seem to be several takers for the services offered by these horses. Of course there is the regular baraat performance, needing the bridegroom to come in on a horse; then there are several themed parties needing the horses and carts to create just the right ambience - whatever it may be. You may have seen them, all spruced up, heading out for an evening's engagement very early in the day. In case you were wondering where these are coming from, look no more, for here's your answer!

Atheist parking

There is a pretty big church in Lettangs Road (or should it be L'etang's Road? Or Letang's Road? Or what?) called Jehovah Shammah. It may be the reason why several buildings on that road have it written on their walls, "Beware of God". Just in case you do not remember, Jehovah Shammah means 'The Lord is There'.

Whoever parked the car right under the sign must be someone completely convinced that the Lord is everwhere, so it doesn't matter. Alternately, it could be an atheist; stretching that logic, it could be an atheist who does not believe in a God that one does not have to fear, or 'beware of', because "... the God I don't believe in is a good God, a merciful God..."*!


* Catch 22, of course, which lets us not believe in just the kind of God we don't want to believe in!

On a clear day, you can see...

Leading out of the northwestern gate of Fort St George is a long road; now a part of NH4, this must have been the most critical road in the early days of the Fort. It runs fair distance through the city and gets out through its western suburbs, heading out to the seat of the Nayaks, the governors of this region, administering the territory on behalf of their rulers. It was from these Nayaks that the grant of land where Fort St George would be built was obtained. More than a decade later, Nawab Mohammed Ali, who had seized control of all these areas from the Raja of Chandragiri, granted the British that town, the administrative headquarters of the Raja.

The road runs a reasonably straight course for most of its 23-km long distance to Poonamallee; but there are some kinks that cannot be straightned out. Like this one, at the junction of Poonamallee High Road and Raja Muthiah Road. Though it looks like it was taken from the middle of the road, it ws done standing on the pavement of Poonamallee High Road. And yes, on a clear day, you can see right up to the walls of the railway track near the Fort station from here... looking down the road from the other side with the sun at your back, you could probably see a long way, maybe all the way down to Poonamallee!

Day Memorial or Memorial Day?

It is generally accepted that Madras came into being on August 22, 1639, when Day and Cogan accepted a grant of land from the Nayaks of Poonamallee. Yet, there are many who bristle at the idea that this great city was a child of foreign parents. They point to the rock-cut caves and stone-age relics of Pallavaram, to the temples at Tiruvottiyur and even to the 'Portugee' settlement at San Thomé - a town that Arab traders of the 10th century CE knew as 'Betumah' - as evidence of thriving habitations long before 1639. Those objections have some level of validity, but it took the British East India Company's efforts to stitch together all of these, and several other villages, to craft the Madras that has evolved into the Chennai of today. Since those efforts began with Day and Cogan, they deserve a place of honour in the city's history.

Unfortunately, there is no record of any memorial to either of the two, or their dubash, Beri Thimappa; an omission that has often been lamented by several of the city's heritage enthusiasts. The name of this building is therefore rather intriguing. Actually, I missed it at the first look, because the signboard saying 'Madras Centenary Telugu Baptist Church' was what caught my eye and I took the picture of the church building. It was only later that I began to ascribe different meanings to the words 'The Day Memorial' on the building.

Could this actually be a forgotten memorial to the city's founder? Or is it commemorative of the founding day? Another trip to Vepery is definitely called for!

Rising up

A little over six months after the traffic police shut down one side of Cenotaph Road, construction of the flyover was inaugurated. During that time, the Metrowater folks dug up the road to re-lay their water and sewage pipes, the Tamil Nadu Electricity Board has shifted some of the power cables and Chennai Telephones has restrung their phone lines. In the meantime, a couple of landowners went to court challenging a notification acquiring their land. That last bit can be a complete dampener - some projects had been delayed for years together while the courts sorted out why who did what to whom. In this case the challenge seems to be only against the procedures adopted, so chances of work being affected are not very high.

For the moment, Cenotaph Road and the Chamiers Road junction look like badlands. The pilings on the Cenotaph Road side have been completed and ones on Turnbulls Road will begin soon. The pile driver moved across last week - it should have started its work out there a couple of days ago. Work seems to be moving ahead quite rapidly - this one might actually beat the target date for its completion, courts willing!

Golden yellow

Religion is obviously big in India, as it is the world over. Almost every Hindu ritual involves fire, the purifying agent, at least in the form of lamps if not a larger homa kundam. Mostly, such rituals are carried out with mantrams, the chanting of sacred verses. In some systems of worship, stylized representations of the divine powers are drawn using powders of turmeric (ah, that's the yellow connection!), vermillion and other colours.

But the 'yellow' touch does not end there. The lamps shine golden, the flames reflecting off their ridged stems; the oil used to fuel the lamps is golden too, a few shades darker than the bronze of the lamps. The light falling on the flowers highlights the yellows among them; as the ritual concludes, you get slices of bananas, still in their yellow skins. And finally, the deep yellow of the sandalwood paste stays smeared on the forehead long after the lamps die out!

How much more 'Yellow' can we get on this theme day? Click here to view thumbnails for all participants - there are literally hundreds of City Daily Photo blogs going yellow today!

One his own

He may have done several things in his life, but for Madras, Julian James Cotton's memory lives on in his work 'List of Inscriptions on Tombs or Monuments in Madras', a work that he published circa 1910. He had the weight of a huge legacy that he had to live up to; as seen on his tombstone, the three generations of Cottons before him had made their name and fortune in the services of the John Company. His great-grandfather, Sir Joseph Cotton, was a Director of the East India Company and his grandfather John went on to become Chairman of the Company. Sir Henry Cotton, his father, was a governor of Assam and, being a votary of India's right to self-rule, became president of the Indian National Congress.

Julian James does not seem to have inherited any of that derring-do. The thirty-four years he spent in the Indian Civil Service appear to have been without any deed worthy of a mention in the dispatches. Maybe his father's dalliance with the Indian independence movement cost Julian James his knighthood and also prospects of his career advancement. He seems to have spent all his time in and around Madras; joining the service in Madras in 1893, he remained there till his rather sudden death in 1927.

Julian James' son, however, inherited his ancestors' drive - born in Madras, Sir John Richard Cotton moved to England after his father's death, only to come back a few years later, after winning the Sword for Military History at Sandhurst, where he was also a Prize Cadet and King's India Cadet. With Sir John's death in 2002, five generations of the Cottons' serving the British soverign in Inda came to an end!

Caring for animals

The earliest veterinarians to qualify in India had their training on the banks of the Adayar, because that's where the Farm School was located. That school went on to become the Agricultural College and in 1876, the College, deciding that veterinary science needed its own specialised course, began offering a 2-year diploma course in that faculty. Madras once again led the field, in the sense of creating the specialty, but it took the city 27 years to upgrade that scheme of instruction to a proper college, with a 3-year course leading to the diploma. In the meantime, the veterinary colleges at Lahore, Bombay and Calcutta had gone ahead with their diploma programmes.

When scouting around for a suitable location for the college, Veterinary Major WD Gunn, the Superintendent of the Veterinary Department, was offered use of hospital donated by the Raja Venugopal Kishan Bahadur to them, by the SPCA. Under the terms of their agreement, that hospital could be used as a teaching hospital, but there was to be no change in its name - an arrangement that continues to this day. Major Gunn requested for and was allowed use of Dobbin Hall, a little way across the road from the RVKB Hospital for Animals, as the premises of the Madras Veterinary College. Thus, the Madras Veterinary College enrolled its first batch of 20 students in 1903.

The early start that the institution had was not entirely in vain. In 1930, a Royal Commission recommended that one of the veterinary colleges in India be upgraded and allowed to offer a degree in veterinary science, rather than just a diploma. For three years, a government Commission went around inspecting the all the colleges in the country before awarding that honour to the Madras Veterinary College. But it was only in 1936, when 50 students were admitted to the degree programme, that the Madras Veterinary College become the first in the country to award degrees in veterinary medicine - see, you just can't keep that first away!

Curable!

Though I am be ready to bet on it (yet), this building marks the location where the Cancer Institute (WIA) began service from. The font used to write its name gives away its age, even if the building construction itself could be anytime between 1950 and 1970. Other sources tell us that it is true, the Cancer Institue was established in 1954 in a small hut and it moved into this building in 1955. It is probably the only institute that the WIA (Women's Indian Associaiton) manages; a wise move to not take up any other cause. Considering that the Cancer Institute screens over 125,000 persons every year, the WIA will have its hands full managing the processes and the standard of care provided by the CI (WIA).

Today this is not the only building; in a long stretch which seems to be the backbone of Gandhi Nagar in Adyar there are at least 3 other buildings of the Institute. The fifth one, which was inaugurated in 1977, is on Sardar Patel Road itself, a little way away from this 9-acre campus. When it was inaugurated, this institute was the second dedicated centre in India for treating cancer - the first was the ICRC at the Tata Memorial Hospital in Mumbai - but it has been a pioneer in many other ways. The Institute has played a key role in securing several changes to help treatment and prevention of cancer - duty exemptions, travel concessions, recognition of Oncology as a specialty and many other far-reaching initiatives. Most of all, according to this article in The Lancet, the Institute has built capacity for cancer control in the country.

And for all that, the Institute is run on the lines of a not-for-profit; of the 423 beds it has, almost 300 are free; even among 'outpatients', almost two-thirds of them are treated for free. Such dedication has been instrumental in the survival rate among cancer patients going up!

From here to California

Shri Seetharama Rao firmly believed in the saying "we are what we eat". It was his endeavor therefore to move away from the more traditional choultry and sarai into hotels. His plank was to have hotels with a difference and the one he chose was to emphasize that this hotel would be completely vegetarian. In the 1920s, it was a novel concept, but Seetharama's bet that people wold love to have 'home food' without having to cook it was more or less spot on and so Hotel Dasaprakash became one of the happening hotspots of Madras in the '20s and '30s.

It was not just those times. Hotel Dasaprakash was active well into the first few years of this millennium, even though it had stopped being the favourite watering hole for the kind of people it used to attract in its early years - and even a while later. One can imagine the Freddie Threepwood kind of gentleman cutting up the rugs somewhere in this Art Deco building during the swinging sixties, but sometime after that, Hotel Dasaprakash became one more of those haunts for salesmen travelling on a budget, needing to keep up the appearances.

There are quite a few cars parked inside the gates. But the gates themselves have been shut for almost two years now, as the owners of the property try to make up thier minds about whose offer to accept for the building. There is little chance of Hotel Dasaprakash getting back to its glory days, for the new generation seems to have cashed in on the popularity of the brand - Hotel Dasaprakash has a property in Ooty and is also part of Bangalore's history - with the Dasaprakash restaurant in Santa Clara, California, USA. Maybe one day the brand will come back to its place of birth!

An officer and a litterateur

Not many people have been successful at combining the hard life of a police officer with the sensitivity of an author and playwright. Throw in the fact that one of his most famous works is an interpretation of Harischandra and the contrast between the two personas becomes that much sharper. It is therefore a significant credit to Diwan Bahadur Saravana Bhavanandam Pillai that he is remembered (although only just about) equally for his policing prowess as well as his literary legacy.

Bhavanandam Pillai was one of the first Indians to rise through the ranks to become the Assistant Commissioner of Police in Madras. He was also keenly interested in the history of the Tamizh language and set up the Bhavanandam Academy Trust to help scholars research into that history. Newton House on Jeremiah Road, where he lived, is now home to the library of the Academy and also serves as its head office.

Shell park

In the days when corporations weren't shells, there was a Shell that was a corporation. In India, however, it was only a brand, one that was the face of Asiatic Petroleum, a company that was formed to market petro-products in the British territories of Asia. That company was itself jointly owned by Shell, Royal Dutch and the Rothschilds and came into being to counter John D.Rockefeller's behemoth, Standard Oil, from extending its stranglehold into Asia. The company tied up with Burmah Oil Company, which was drilling the stuff out of the ground and getting it refined and then distributing the distillate. By some logic, the new entity, for 'end-to-end' of oil, was named Burmah-Shell.

That was in 1928, and some forty years later, the Burmah-Shell company decided to do a bit of public service and funded the setting up of a Children's Traffic Park, on Poonamallee High Road. Given that location, it was always 'on-the-way' for me, never a destination to be savoured. Looking at it from a passing vehicle, the traffic park seemed to be a nice idea that needed to be tried across the city.

Unfortunately, even this park has not been used regularly or with the sense of discipline. In all my years in the city, I haven't come across a single person who learnt his / her driving skills from this traffic park - I wonder where those alumni are!

Grand old place

There is probably no photographic record or plans of 'Somerford', a garden house that stood at what is today Nos. 1 & 2, Greenways Road. Even without them, it is not difficult to imagine that 'Somerford' would have looked completely different from this building. Having bought that house sometime in the early 20th century, Raja Sir Annamalai Chettiar commissioned an Italian architect to modify it; the resulting interpretation of a Baroque design stands to this day, imposing its majesty upon visitors, coming in to marvel at the Chettinad Palace.

Visitors are allowed; one can walk in and be shown around a portion of the ground floor that is open to public view, unless there is some special function or festivity on that day. And there is quite a bit to marvel at, from the intricately detailed wooden ceiling in the common reception area, to the photographs of celebrities, politicians and royalty who have visited this palace, to the 300+ trophies won by racehorses belonging to MAM Ramaswami, Annamalai Chettiar's grandson.

This photograph may not be very impressive; but think - this is only part of the palace, one that stands on 70 acres of land on the banks of the Adayar. From any part of the grounds, you would not be able to see this structure in its entireity; but a more panoramic photo can be seen here, thanks to PlaneMad!

Port gate

For a long, long time, I had assumed that there was only one entry point into the Port of Madras. Far from being the only gate, it is one of the minor gates, the one through which children on a school trip, going to see ships berthed in the docks, were allowed.

Almost at the southern tip of the Port, this gate is probably the most visible one to the common Chennai-ite. I'm willing to take a bet that any city resident who is not required to visit the port for his or her livelihood will tell us that this is the 'main' entrance to the Port - all the others are well hidden, I guess!

Sweets and more

There are several sweet shops in Chennai, each one of them trying to create its own brand of what are intrinsically unbrandable sweets. Some of them have been successful, maybe too much so, that many today believe that mysurpa and mysore pak are the same thing. That story has its beginnings in Coimbatore, not Chennai, so I'll let it pass and stick to a more 'local' sweet shop.

In 1982, G.Natarajan was at some kind of crossroads in life. The oil-press he started near his village had failed. A retailing venture in Madras was probably way ahead of its time and it took off only his wife's jewels, all 300 sovereigns of them. A more recent transport business had been successful enough for him to buy back the oil-press. The industrial canteen he was running at Manali seemed to be a good bet. So good, in fact, that he took a leap of faith and bought the house at 24, II Main Road in Adayar's Gandhi Nagar area and started making and selling the generic snacks, traditionally made by the old ladies of the house - the sweet mysore pak and laddoo as well as the crunchy, savoury 'mixture'.

Today, Grand Sweets and Snacks has resisted the urge to expand, beyond their outlet in Anna Nagar. Staying in Adayar, their range today runs into over 250 items, including ready-mixes for vathakuzhambu and puliyodharai. There certainly was no looking back for Natarajan. He must have bought back all of his wife's jewels and then some; crowds like these, jostling at the counter for his wonderful sweets and snacks, played a part in his receiving a post-humous award in 2002 for being that year's highest income-tax payer in the region!

In the name of the 'reformer'

As had happened with many other Britons of his era, William Henry Cavendish, the Lord Bentinck, also found his first stint as a government servant in India ending with some degree of mess. Taking charge as Governor of Madras in 1803, he muddled along until 1806, when he brought out a 'dress code' for Indian soldiers. This code, which forbade Hindoos from displaying religious marks on their foreheads and required Mohammedans to shave off their beards led to the Vellore Mutiny of 1806; a single day on July 10 during which over 500 soldiers - 200 British and then, in retaliation, about 400 Indian - were killed. That was enough for Lord Bentinck to be called back home, in 1807.

It took him a couple of decades to return, this time as Governor-General of Bengal. Given the mandate to turn around the losses incurred by the East India Company, he stuck to it closely and was reasonably successful. Taking over as Governor-General of India in 1833, Lord Bentinck put his full weight behind Thomas Macaulay's 1835 Minute on Indian Education. He capped the subsidies being provided to schools which taught in any language other than English. To be fair, he also encouraged new schools promoting western education to come up, speeding up the spread of English as the link language across the sub-continent.

Lord Bentinck is also credited with putting an end to the practice of sati, where a widow is cremated at her husbands pyre. In some ways, this gave him the aura of a social reformer with a special interest in women's rights and he played up this image by advocating that girls should also be educated. With that image fresh in their minds, the founders of this school named it after the Lord Bentinck - and that name has remained unchanged since 1837!

Door in the wall

Very nice, isn't it? 'Hotel Bindu' is not easy to find. It primarily serves the armymen based in Fort St George - and I am not sure if it is still in business, it does look as though the door hasn't been opened for a long while.

The hotel has walls that are at least a couple of feet thick, especially the wall opposite this door. They have to be, because the hotel is set in the outer walls of Fort St George!

Gated pond

The crowded, narrow streets of Mylapore do not really appeal much to the eye, unless one is aware of how much history is packed into them. Though the first image of the locality is the imposing Kapaleeswarar Temple, there are several other temples in the area. As with many other temple towns in south India, dwellings around the temple were typically a kind of row-houses, with just a common wall separating one unit from its neighbours. With a profusion of temples, the streets merge into one another, empty spaces between long rows of dwellings, filled with all kinds of people seeking or providing spiritual services. The hustle and bustle assaults you but then, suddenly, you're in this clearing; across the walls, you can see into three other streets.

One is not really prepared for the Chitrakulam tank, because the Adikeshava Perumal temple, with which it is linked, is a slight distance away. If you do not know it, you might wonder why anyone has bothered to build walls around a seemingly unused pond!

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!