Connection

I very clearly remember when I last saw one of these. When my son asked me why it was referred to as 'dialling', I went into a kind of history-plus-half-baked-engineering explanation. It probably left him more confused than before. At that time, I hadn't seen one of these rotary dial phones for years and I never thought I'd see them again outside a museum. 

This one I saw a few weeks ago, however, was not in a museum. It was in the foyer of a cinema theatre - though in a place where people would not normally wander into. It looked so much in working condition that I was tempted to use it...

...but I did not. So now, here I am, trying to remember when was the last time I actually used one of these!

Departure point

To you and me, in this day and age, this black block of a building would appear foreboding, maybe even an ill-omen. But a century ago, this would have represented excitement, hope and the thrill of setting out to new worlds and civilizations. It is one of the original buildings of the Port of Chennai and used to house the embarkation offices, along with its twin. Together, they would have been terrifying sights for at least one set of travellers: those bound for transport to Kala Pani, that dreaded cellular jail in the Andamans, who would also have set sail from the quay here.

That other half of this building was demolished during a modernisation drive in the 1980s, but for some reason, this one was spared. Sitting on the Western Quay of the harbour, this building appears to have fallen out of regular use. Built with chunks of Pallavaram gneiss, it has stood up to the salty sea air for all these years showing little signs of wear. It could well survive for a few centuries more and can be put to better use than being a storage facility. In its comedown, it today evokes more pity than awe!

Towering across

From across the Harris (now Adithanaar) Road bridge on the east, this building quite catches the eye. It is the WSS Towers; although the developers had tried to name it Harmony Towers, it is WSS that has stuck. WSS retains a bit of the history of the area, so it seems far more appropriate than a bland 'Harmony'. More of that in a bit, but we will stay with the building itself for now. 

Just as this one catches the eye, so would its predecessor have, especially in early 1964. On the site of the WSS Towers used to be the Chitra Theatre, built by K. Viswanathan in 1948. With the Cooum flowing along its east before turning along its southern flank, movie watchers at Chitra would have enjoyed the cool river breeze aplenty. Remember, no airconditioning, open doors and the Cooum itself was a splendid watercourse in those days. In early 1964 - it could have been during Pongal time - the MGR superhit Vettaikaran ('The Hunter') was released at Chitra. The facade of the building was decked up to look like a mountain forest, with MGR ready to leap from a hillside. And, to complete the forest theme, a tiger was placed near the theatre's entrance. Originally, the publicity plan called for the tiger to be tied up in the open, but with the police (?) insisting on safety, the tiger was put inside a cage. 

Chitra did not make the transition to a world of multiplexes. As has been the fate of many of Madras' old movie halls, this one was also turned into a commercial complex. In calling it WSS Towers, the developers were probably paying homage to WS Samy Naick, the first 'native doctor' of the East India Company, who lived on Harris Road in the early 1800s - but that's a story for another day!

Engineer's park

Chennai, or even Madras, does not have much to connect it with this grand old man of Indian industry. Bharat Ratna Sir Mokshagundam Visvesvaraya was born in Mysore and carried out most of his pathbreaking projects in Mysore or for the Nizam of Hyderabad. That kept him away from both Madras city as well as the Madras Presidency.

But the work he did - the automatic floodgates at Khadkavasala, the flood protection system for the city of Hyderabad, and the various public works that he oversaw as the Diwan of the Mysore State - served as models for post-independence India's effort in building 'modern temples'. Sir MV was over 85 when the country became independent, which probably hampered him from being the country's Chief Engineer. Still, his birth anniversary, today, is observed as 'Engineers' Day' in India.

Madras honoured him by naming the tower at Anna Nagar after him. And that remains as his connect to the city - apart from the BA degree he earned from the University of Madras in 1881!



Autopledge

There is a campaign initiated by the Times of India going on in the city. Autorickshaws - always a big stick to beat Chennai with - have apparently been going around without using their fare meters for several years now. The Times of India has been trying to muster support to bring back metered fares for the autorickshaws and to ensure implementation as well. 

It would be great if that can happen. Though there is no data to lean back on, every conversation about Chennai's autos brings in the ownership theme; according to a study in 2010, less than 40% of the drivers own their autos, with the rest taking the vehicle on daily rent. While an owner-driver would clear about Rs.250 a day, the hirer-driver would only take away a fifth of that. Any of these numbers would be chimerical; with almost the entire business running on a cash-and-carry basis, we have to lean back on the sob stories from the drivers. 

Or from the commuters. Of which there is an inexhaustible supply. Most of the time, the 'nice' stories don't make for good news. The regulars know the fares on their normal routes and rarely does one of them complain about being fleeced. Maybe more of them should start putting in their fare data on to this site, which is trying to crowdsource such information. Maybe we should pay more attention to the stated intent of the auto stands, like on this board here. It has a long list of what the drivers would and would not do. But who among us gives them a pat on the back for sticking to the code?

Breaking the ice

There is a kind of reassuring permanence to some of the names of Chennai's landmarks. Attempts at renaming them only lead to bestowing another handle, while the older one is also used, equally validly. And so it is with this building, Vivekanandar Illam or Vivekananda House, on the Marina Beach.

There was a temptation to make this post on 9/11: the anniversary of Swami Vivekananda's historic address at the Parliament of the World's Religions in Chicago, in 1893. He stayed at this building for a few days after his return to India and that is the reason for its current official name. But close on the heels of 9/11 comes another anniversary, which is the reason for this building to be constructed in the first place. It was on September 13, 1833 that the first shipment of river ice - about 100 tonnes of it - landed up in Calcutta, from Boston. Business was good enough for a regular ferry service of ice from Massachusetts' rivers into the Presidency towns of the Raj and each of them built storage facilities for the landed ice. 

Of the others, there is no trace these days. Vivekananda's name has ensured that the building stays in good repair and is put to good use. But it still cannot stop the Madrasi from referring to it as 'Ice House'!

No more there

It was an address that once boasted of housing the premier photographers of the Madras Presidency. Towards the end of the 19th century, Wiele & Klein had their studio at 11, Mount Road. As their business prospered, they opened branches in the 'Neilgherries' - at Ooty and Coonoor - and Wiele moved over to the hills. Klein stayed on the plains and lived in the floor above their headquarters. The first World War saw Klein being interred - though born in Madras, his German parentage made him a suspect. Apparently, he was not much disturbed by this treatment. He continued to ply his trade after the war, buying out his senior partner and later taking on Michael Peyerl as his junior partner. The Klein & Peyerl name is quite familiar to many even in today's Chennai.

Klein however sold the building at 11, Mount Road to Venkatapathi Naidu, a descendent of Beri Thimmappa, one of Madras' founding trio. Venkatapathi added on to the building and it was a fancy business address, at the corner of Blackers Road and Mount Road, for quite a long while. By the time this picture was taken in 2009, the premises were quite dilapidated. The owners seemed loath to attempt another round of renovation and refurbishment, preferring instead to tear down the structure.

This photo shows the building in poor light. But if you would like to see how handsome it was during its heyday, go ahead and take a look at the photos here! 

Leaping horse

A Ferrari it is not. This wooden horse is part of the finery of a chariot that takes the deity around the temple at Thiruninravur. Even at its most frenzied pace, it would take quite a bit of time to go around the track. 

On that day, this chariot was idle; the palanquin was being used for the procession. This one looked rather lonely, parked along the temple wall!

Which way?

No, it is not like platform nine-and-three-quarters at King's Cross. This gatepost is all that remains of what was once Madras' leading multi-screen cinema - the Safire complex. Together with Emerald and Blue Diamond, they formed the Veecumsee Group's entertainment business. It seemed rather apt and I used to think about a karmic connection each time we-went-to-see a movie there.

Correction: the complex was not just a movie palace. I remember playing Atari's Pong there for the first time. Pinball tables: check. Jukebox: check. Bubble elevator: check. It also housed the city's first discotheque. Nine Gems was the place to go if you wanted to groove to the Beatles. The disco did not last for long; it was replaced by a Gujarati / Rajasthani restaurant named Navaratna. Even that became less of an attraction as days went by. Safire was a place for the movies.

Today, Safire is a place for memories. The Veecumsee family members seem to have gone back to focus on their other business - jewellery and resorts, as well as some new economy ventures. They have moved away from the cinema/entertainment sector - probably they are also overawed by the thought of competing with such a larger than life legacy!

The S-bend

Okay, so it is not really the ‘S’ bend. It would have been nice to get the Adayar river to heed the conventions of the Roman script, but the river has its own mind.

Few history textbooks of record it, but the Battle of Adayar was also one of the arms in the S-bend of the city’s history. When the French turned the British out of Fort St George, the Nawab of Carnatic thought he could do the same to the French. Knowing that the French army was only around 2,000, mostly native soldiers, the Nawab thought they would be no match for his force of over 10,000. He did not realize that the spahis (or siphais, or sepoys), trained by the French, fought to a different drummer than that of his force. The Nawab was crushed; European training and discipline trumped native daring and courage. The battle thus finalized a template that would be used by the British to hold the country together for a couple of centuries after that.

There is a different march on the river these days. A decade ago, a picture like this would have shown very few buildings. One hopes they remain the only constructions even in the years to come!

Sesquicentennial trio

The High Courts of Bombay, Calcutta and Madras are all celebrating their 150th anniversary in 2012. The High Court of Judicature at Madras is the 'junior-most' among the three; Calcutta (originally the High Court of Judicature at Fort William) was established on July 1, 1862, Bombay on August 14 and Madras on August 15 of the same year. However, it must be remembered that the Supreme Court of Madras - as befitting the first city of the Raj - had been functioning since 1801, before being abolished to make way for the new structure of judiciary. 

In fact, it was a judge of the Madras High Court, Sir Gilbert Stone, who moved to Bombay in 1862 to take charge as the first Chief Justice of the High Court of Judicature at Bombay. But as with many other institutions that were born in Madras, the newer ones grew bigger - The Bombay High Court has a sanctioned strength of 75 judges and Calcutta 63, with Madras bringing up the rear with 60. 

The last of the 3 to observe the valedictory of its sesquicentennial is doing it today. Part of the delay was probably because it was waiting for the President of India to be the chief guest at the function. After all, this is a High Court that has had a lawyer who practiced here go on to become President of India - not to mention the only Indian Governor General as well. It is only fitting that Pranab Mukherjee follows S. Radhakrishnan (at the centenary celebrations) and R. Venkataraman (at the 125th anniversary) to be the chief guest at a significant anniversary celebration here!

Lying, waiting

In 1834, the Asiatic Journal reported that, "the cause for extra subscriptions to the Monegar Choultry no longer exists, the poor creatures having been all forwarded to their native places....on the 31st of August, only 1,079 distressed objects remained...". It is hard to imagine that the 'objects' being talked about were actually people; people who had to be sheltered at the Monegar Choultry to help them tide over the famine of 1833-34 that killed nearly 200,000  across Guntur, Nellore, Masulipatnam and Madras. There is nothing to show how many were saved by the kindness of Monegar Choultry, which was arguably the first public charity of the city of Madras.

The Choultry was set up in response to an earlier, even more miserable famine: that of 1781-84, which probably left upwards of a million dead. (One report says 10 million, but that seems too fantastic a figure). The Famine Relief Committee rented a building just outside the North Wall of the city - maybe by design, to keep the destitute outside the city walls, or maybe it was just the only one available - to serve as the soup kitchen of its time. Or maybe it was because there was a village headman - a manaiyakkaran - running a kanji centre nearby; people would know where to go to be cared for. So manaiyakkaran became 'Monegar' and the Choultry grew famous under that name. So famous that, despite being renamed as the 'Raja of Venkatagiri's Choultry', the old name continues to be displayed and referred to all around. 

This building is the oldest - but certainly not from 230 years ago - survivor of the Choultry's history. An even earlier practice, that continues still, is that an inmate's relatives (who probably cared little for him/her during the lifetime) have no claim to the body after his/her death. The cadaver is automatically sent across to the nearby Stanley Medical College's anatomy department. The destitute, in death, trying to ease the burden of the living!

Buzzin' around

The Beehive Foundry was named very appropriately, by all accounts. It supposedly employed between 500 and 600 workmen even during the lean season and the "activity which prevails in a hive of bees is not excelled by the industry which is manifested by the large staff of employees of this company". Contractors to shipping companies, the railways and large builders among others, the Beehive Foundry was set up in this building, which housed Oakes & Co., arguably Madras' first department store. The Beehive Foundry was Oakes' foray into engineering and it grew to be quite successful, with the works going completely electric (from the original steam power) in 1914, subsequent upon their being awarded the contract to outfit the hospital ship Madras that year. 

Suryanarayana Rao, the scion of a Vijayawada-based business family set up business for himself in 1907. His friend C.A.Chettiar joined him a few years later, and the two of them ventured into the steel foundry and fabrication business. It is quite likely that they took over the Beehive Foundry soon after and the group came to be known as the Beehive Kowtha Group.

The foundry has moved to Vijayawada. But the Group continues to have fabrication shops in Chennai, as well as Hyderabad and Vijayawada; and its corporate office stays on at this address: Beehive Buildings, 57, Broadway, Chennai 600108!

Bare tower

Less than a generation ago, Velachery was an ignored outpost of Madras, a temple suburb that was poorly connected with the rest of the city. Velachery - the name is supposedly a corruption of the original Vedashreni (the abode of the Vedas) - has two temples that go back several hundred years. And they used to be the major reason for people to go to that part of the city. 

Now, Velachery is the hub of the new-economy; the temples have been largely forgotten. Not because of anything else, but it is just that the population of Velachery has grown exponentially in the last few years and the newcomers have not had the time or the inclination to think about the heritage of their new hometown. But not all is lost. The temples have been sprucing themselves up, in anticipation of new visitors.

One such spruce-up project was probably this gopuram. I am not sure if the Sree Dhandeeswarar Koil had a gopuram here earlier, but this one is surely of very recent origin. Unlike the normal colourful gopurams, this one seems to remain bare - or has it been painted over since I last saw it?!

Ship ahoy!

That's what the lookout should be shouting from his perch high above the waterline. But what would the poor chap do when the mast is barely above sea level, with the rest of his ship settled on the ocean's floor? The 'Madras Roads' had always been notoriously tricky to navigate, but surely not so treacherous as to sink ships?

I had thought there were only two ships that had floundered on the ChennaiMadras coast in recent times. The one at the mouth of the Cooum is a hazy memory of stories heard. It ran aground sometime in the late 1960s, but I have not been able to find much evidence of that disaster. The other one I know of is more recent, when a ship ran into the Tiruvottiyur shore in 1994. It remained there, stuck to the shore and I would see it everyday on my way to work. I remember that the locals treated it as a picnic spot; the evenings would see sharbath and cotton-candy sellers do brisk business with the crowds that would turn up to see the big ship up close. (I had had a picture taken there as well. Wonder where that is, now!)

But this was a new one. It was only last week that I learnt that there was a sunken ship just outside the Madras Harbour. All that I have got to know about it is that it was called 'Seven Seas' - or it belonged to a company so named - and that it sank sometime in the mid-1980s. Its mast still shows above the waters, forming a nice perch for the brown-headed gulls (or were they the bridled terns?) to rest between their sorties!

Stopped press

It looks like what it is. The signboard of a business that has seen vastly better times, but is now faded, rusting in its own history. "Appar Achchagam" it says, with the preceding words having faded completely away. It may not be much to look at, but it had its day about half-a-century ago.

Appar Achchagam, on Broadway, was the printing arm of the Saiva Siddhantha Works Publishing Society, which was run by Va. Thiruvarangam Pillai, who was a big fan of Maraimalai Adigalar. (Maybe the biggest fan - he married Neelambigai, the Adigalar's daughter). He had been instrumental in bringing Adigalar to Ceylon, and the SSWP Society had published every one of the Adigalar's books. Upon his death, Adigalar bequeathed is collection of over 4000 Tamizh books to the SSWP Society, which, in 1958, opened the Maraimalai Adigal Library on Linghi Chetty Street. Building on that initial corpus, the Library grew to over 35,000 rare books, journals and manuscripts over the next 50 years. Unable to house them, or to maintain the Library itself, the Society turned the entire collection over to the Connemara Library. 

Today, the Society seems to have gone under completely. A handwritten sheet, under this sign, calls on them to deliver vacant possession of the premises by order of the High Court. The heritage of the Adigalar, revered as the father of 'pure Tamizh', seems to have been completely institutionalized, now!

Bull elephant

At the corner just after the lighthouse on Kamaraj Salai, you will find this sculpture. It is quite an interesting work, if you pay attention to it. It has been crafted in the style of the ancient Chola sculptors - as seen at Darasuram, near Kumbakonam. Or is it after the Chalukyas, as seen at the Badami caves? 

If you go to the Airavateswara temple at Darasuram, you can see a similar interpretation, but as a bas-relief work. It is in bas-relief at Badami, as well. Both of them show a similar elephant-bull combination. If you look at this sculpture from the left, you will see the bull raising its head; move to the right and you can see the elephant unfurling its trunk.

This work follows the Darasuram/Badami tradition in another way - there is no indication of what this is all about. The pedestal seems to have kept a place for a description or a dedication or whatever. Only that it still remains empty. Go ahead, fill it with your imagination!

Peoplewatching

In March every year, the Sri Bhaktavatsala Perumal temple at Thriruninravur conducts its Brahmotsavam. It was coincidental that a bunch of us from the Chennai Photowalk landed up there that day. As we got into one of the roads near the temple, we realised we were just ahead of the palanquin carrying the deity in a ceremonial procession. 

The palanquin would pause on its journey, allowing folks from the nearby houses to come out and make their offerings to the deity. The priests also pause, a little distance away, waiting for the next move. 

For today's 'Theme Day' post; just a few days ago, I had gone ahead with another picture showing 'People Watching' just a few days ago.... so here is one of the 'Priests Watching'!

The theme today for the City Daily Photo group bunch is 'People Watching'. For more pictures of people watching around the world, head over to their Facebook page!

Proud employer

Imagine you are the foremost mathematician of your time, living in Cambridge, England. Imagine you get a letter from Madras, postmarked January 16, 1913, which starts off,

"Dear Sir, 

I beg to introduce myself to you as a clerk in the Accounts Department of the Port Trust Office at Madras on a salary of only £20 per annum. I am now about 23 years of age. I have had no University education but I have undergone the ordinary school course...."

What would you do?

G.H. Hardy was intrigued by the letter and the 9 pages of theorems appended with it. Some were familiar, many were not. At the end of it, Hardy concludes, "They must be true because, if they were not true, no one would have the imagination to invent them". Thus began a great collaboration in the world of mathematics, one that has been described several times over (most brilliantly by Robert Kanigel in 'The Man Who Knew Infinity: A Life of the Genius Ramanujan'). 

Ramanujan was encouraged to write that letter by Sir Francis Spring, the Chairman of the Madras Port Trust and S. Narayana Iyer, the Chief Accountant. That they had taken such an interest in the non-official activities of a Class III Grade IV clerk was because that post was a sinecure, procured by the efforts of R. Ramachandra Rao, the district collector of Nellore and secretary of the Indian Mathematical Society. Ramanujan had been introduced to Ramachandra Rao in 1910 and had requested Rao for "leisure" to work on his mathematics. Rao arranged to bear his expenses, at the same time looking out for a more stable arrangement.

That arrangement was worked out in early 1912. Ramanujan joined the Madras Port Trust on March 1 that year. His tenure at the Port Trust was short; but it was the only formal employment he ever had. So it is that this bust is placed in the foyer of the Port Trust's Conference Hall - a proud employer honouring its most famous employee!

Eye-catching

It is certainly not a very 'descript' building. Like hundreds of others in Chennai, this one too is a just a regularly shaped block of concrete. Being right across the road from the LIC Building on Mount Road, it would have been completely ignored, had it not been for the arresting geometrical pattern on its facade. 

For a few years, that pattern made sure the DBS Bank faced up to its taller neighbour across the road. It could have become an instantly recognisable landmark itself, but apart from the facade, there was little else of interest in the building. One was startled, but one moved on. 

This picture was taken a couple of years ago. Today, you will not be able to get this view. And once the Chennai Metro comes up, those across the street will probably no longer have their eyes jerked towards this colourful structure!

South-west sentinel

That is how this statue, at the south-west corner of the Madras High Court campus, was described by a Judge of the Madras High Court. Like its counterpart at the north-east corner (that of Rajaji), this statue too honours a barrister who gave up his practice to participate in the freedom struggle. The road this statute looks on to, known earlier as Broadway, was renamed in his honour as "Prakasam Salai".

It was not because Tanguturi Prakasam Pantulu lived on Broadway. It was on that road, in 1928 that a black flag demonstration was being held against the visiting Simon Commission. A nervous police force watched the demonstration gathering strength as they marched south on Broadway; finally, when it reached the China Bazaar junction of the Esplanade (what is now NSC Bose Road), the police opened fire. The shots sent the crowd back - except Parthasarathy, one of the demonstrators, who had been killed by the bullets. His body lay at the junction. The police swore to shoot anyone who approached the body. Enraged by that attitude, it was Prakasam, who ripped open his shirt and, daring the policemen to target his chest, walked up to lift Parthasarathy's body and continue on the march. It was this courage which brought him the sobriquet "Andhra Kesari" (the Lion of Andhra). The courage was demonstrated again when, heedless of his personal safety, he visited the Nizam of Hyderabad in 1948 to convince him to join the Indian Union, at a time when the Razakars were out to get him.

The plaque on the statue also calls him 'Andhra Kesari'. That he was the Premier of the Madras Presidency (1946-47) is mentioned in much smaller letters. This sentinel can be better cared for, surely!

Sugarcane saint

As temples go, this doesn't look like much. After having been neglected for a couple of decades, the Pattinathar Thirukkoil at Tiruvottiyur has had some clean up done around it in the last year or so. After all, what is a few years here and there when we are talking about a legend that has been in the making for over five hundred years?

A native of Kaviripoompattinam, Thiruvenkadar was a leading merchant of his time. Lord Shiva appeared in his dream and advised him to adopt Marudavanar; it was much later that Thiruvenkadar learnt that Marudavanar was the Lord Himself. After one of his apprenticeship trading trips, Marudavanar disappeared, leaving behind a box of his 'earnings' from the trip. Thiruvenkadar opened the box to find cowdung, husk and an 'olai' (ஓலை) with the phrase "not even an eyeless needle will accompany the soul on its last journey". Realising it was a message from Shiva, Thiruvenkadar renounced his material comforts and turned an ascetic, travelling to various parts of the land, going as far north as Kailas before heading back to south India. No longer Thiruvenkadar, he was now known as Pattinathar - the man from Pattinam. During these journeys, Pattinathar had a vision of Lord Shiva telling him that he would gain salvation at a spot where sugarcane tastes sweet. It was finally at Tiruvottiyur that he came across "pei karumbu" (பேய் கரும்பு) - wild sugarcane that nobody would touch, for it was viciously bitter. Pattinathar however found it sweet; and it was here that he attained samadhi. 

The ascetic's temple is also spartan. Though there are the routine pujas and festivals, it is believed that Pattinathar rejects pomp, and anything more than simple offerings or prayers would result in a negative reaction!

Mill Hill Church

I don't think that's really true, calling this a "Mill Hill Church". Although it was the Mill Hill Missionaries who took charge of the parishes of Nungambakkam and Vepery sometime in the early 20th century, their hold on it remained only for about 20 years or so. In 1930, the control of these parishes was passed on to the Padroado Portugues do Oriente  (the protection of the King of Portugal). 

St Teresa's Church, which is the one being discussed, stands on Nungambakkam High Road. It is said this was originally a small chapel within the Bishop of Madras' house and that it began to grow only after the Mill Hill-ers took charge. The chapel was elevated to the level of a parish church in 1912 (and a centenary celebration is called for?) and has continued its growth since.

The Mill Hill-ers handed over the church to the Padroado in 1930. By that time, however, the Padroado was itself in the wane, what with the Padroado Real having given way to the Padroado Portugues do Oriente. The last vestiges of the Padroado disappeared in 1999 when Macau was handed over to China; but in Nungambakkam, this church (and the parish) was moved to the Archdiocese of Madras-Mylapore sometime in the 1950s itself!

Urban renewal

There was a time when Chennai had a green lung along one side of Mount Road. Most of the eastern boundary between the Cenotaph Road and Chamiers Road junctions was taken up by the Poultry Research Station (PRS) of the Tamil Nadu Veterinary and Animal Sciences University (TANUVAS). The PRS campus had a few scattered buildings amidst the greenery on its nine-acre campus. The rest of the space was taken up by raintrees, gulmohurs, neem trees and a thick spread of underbrush all around. 

It was a space where herds of chital roamed. Where rat snakes played a daily game of slithering away from a family of mongoose. Where koels, flycatchers, kingfishers, mynahs, woodpeckers and at least 25 other species of birds built nests for generations. Almost all of them have disappeared over the past couple of years, after the land was turned over to the Chennai Metro Rail for its headquarters. 

Once, poultry breeds like the Nandanam Chicken and the Nandanam Broiler were developed here, for use by breeders all over the state (if not all over the country). Now steel rods are being shaped into frames for spans that will carry the metro rail over many parts of the city. Truly a case of urban renewal! 

Doll building?

It is not often that government offices or buildings bring up nostalgic memories of childhood. But Kuralagam is one such. Children of the 1970s might remember this as the go-to place for golu dolls and by all accounts, it continues to host the annual doll sale that might attract kids to visit it even in this day and age. 

In an area of Chennai that is filled several buildings that are over a hundred years old, this one is a kid itself. A little over 40 years old, Kuralagam (a rough translation would be "the essence of the kural) was built to house several government departments that were being crammed into the Chepauk offices. These included the Commercial Taxes Department, the Commissionerate of Handlooms and Textiles, and the Khadi and Village Industries Board. The last named continues its practice of putting up golu dolls for display during the Navaratri season.

Those dolls were the big reason for children to go to Kuralagam - and maybe to imagine government offices as being colourful places. What with flavoured milk from the Aavin counter in the building, you can't fault a kid for thinking this must be one of the "Best Places to Work"!

Anachronism

Everything about this board is from another era, starting with the white-on-blue lettering. It has been at least sixteen years since the city's name was officially changed from 'Madras' to 'Chennai', but this board still has not been updated. 

It has been even longer - I forget when, but I'm willing to bet that it was at least twenty years ago - that the telephone numbers in the city were moved to seven digits. Maybe nobody has tried calling them for a while. 

But somebody did tell them that their address had to be changed. Mount Road - on which this shop stands - was renamed Anna Salai sometime in the early 1970s; with that clue, we can conclude this has't yet gone into the 'antique' category, but remains merely at the 'classic' stage!

Lawyer's Chamber

How many lawyers does it take to change a light bulb? One possible answer to that could be "All of them". Have been trying to find out how many lawyers practice in Chennai, but that seems to be something even the Bar Council of Tamil Nadu is having a hard time estimating. 

The streets around the Madras High Court are festooned with boards naming advocates and their services. Given the scarcity of real estate in the streets of George Town, it is understandable that their offices are usually one-room affairs, where even a loophole will find it difficult to twist  itself. 

In the midst of such cramped settings, the law office of Advocate A. Nagarajan seems to be luxurious. With a cafeteria attached, his clients would also find waiting more pleasant!

Madras Day!

Much of the last 373 years, since Francis Day and Andrew Cogan received their firman, has been forgotten. But there is much that is remembered. Passing on those memories from the earliest days of Madras to the citizens of today's Chennai is something that V. Sriram does with panache. And when it comes to the Madras Day heritage walks, he is in his element, weaving one story into another, conjuring up images of the early days of the city all the while. 

The Madras Day celebrations are now eight years old. A tribute to this city's founding day, begun by Mr. S.Muthiah, Vincent D'Souza and Sashi Nair now covers many events, spread out across two weeks. While the celebrations get bigger and better with each passing year, there are still several folks who remain incurious - and incredulous about this city. 

The best cure - one of these walks! If you've missed them this year, they'll be back in 2013!!

Forgotten pedestal

Few people know why Cenotaph Road is called so; fewer still would have had the patience to figure out where the components of the cenotaph are located today. 

The original cupola, housing the statue of the 1st Marquess Cornwallis, remains untraceable. It's last shelter is now outside, on the grounds of the Fort St George, while the statue itself frowns imperiously on the visitors entering the Fort Museum. The base of the statue has this description of why it was erected. Maybe it is still not in tune with the wishes of Chennai's citizens, but Cenotaph Road has been spared the spate of renaming that the city's roads have been subjected to... and has remained the same for over 211 years, now!

Happy New Year!

Ah, well. Today's 'Theme Day' is the best photo from 2011; I've posted so few during the last year that it was rather difficult to find the 'best' one.... so here's one, unpublished.

Taken during the lead-up to Thiruvonam, in October, the pookalam (a kind of courtyard decoration, created with thickly packed flower petals) serves to welcome the King Mahabali, on the day when he makes his annual visit to the kingdom he ruled over. 

And this picture welcomes the new year - may it be like the reign of the good King Mahabali.... 

Maaveli naadu vaneedum kaalam

Manushyarellarum onnupole

Amodhathodu vasikkum kaalam

Apathangarkkum ottilla thaanum

When Maaveli was ruling the land, 

All the people were treated equal

And people lived joyful and merry

Free from even the lightest of threats

Here's to a wonderful 2012, folks!

Doll display

It coming close to the end of Navaratri; almost all over India, the 9-day worship of the mother Goddess in her various manifestations follows a similar pattern. But it is only in the southern states that the 9-step (or 7-step) display of dolls becomes a prominent feature of this festival. 


Here's a golu from the Kapaleeshwarar temple at Mylapore. Don't fret if you did not see it there yesterday; this picture is from last year's celebrations!

141, now

Today is one of the few 'National Holidays' in the country. This year, Gandhiji's birth anniversary falling on a Sunday ruled out one of the 'definite' holidays from the calendar. And I didn't get to see Richard Attenborough's Gandhi this year.... maybe Munnabhai's Gandhi made an appearance? 

But then, thanks to Anna Hazare and many others, the Mahatma has been more in the news this year than in most recent years. Maybe it is time to, as an old advertisement said, "...discover the Gandhi in yourself"! 

Mystery object

Ah, the greater mystery is about why I got out of the blogging habit for quite a while now. Doesn't matter. Another 1st-of-the-month, another 'Theme Day', another resolution.


This month, the theme for the City Daily Photo community is "Mystery Object". I had a couple of excellent candidates for that, but unfortunately, I had used them before, here and here; so now I've had to rummage through a jumble of images to come up with this one.


All I can tell you is that it is on top of the Thirusoolam hill. What was it used for? I'm not sure, but I guess it was   just a shaded rest / lookout point.... like the chattris on some forts in north-western India. I do hope some of the readers will be able to throw more light on this!


To see other mystery objects, from many other cities around the world, get over to the City Daily Photo portal. You may click here to view thumbnails for all participants

Under (re)construction

This is not a new building, for sure. The Bharat Insurance Building has been around for as long as I can remember. In fact, it has been around for so long that it is not being used anymore. But do you see those towers in the background, with scaffolding around them? 

That's because they belong to a much, much older era. They were part of the Kardyl Building, which was inaugurated in 1897. In the course of their long life, they have weathered much, but the sheer neglect of the past fifteen years or so pushed them to the brink of ruin. In August 2006, the Madras High Court restrained the Life Insurance Corporation of India, the current owners of the building from "demolition or change in character" of the building, thanks to the efforts of Chennai's minuscule but valiant heritage lobby. Since then, an agreement appears to have been arrived at. There is some restoration activity going on at this building. One hopes that it will go back to the bubbling spirit it had in the days when it housed a soda-water bottling plant and a beer parlour on the premises!

It is 'Theme Day', over at www.citydailyphoto.com! Go over there to find photos from around the world on the theme 'construction'!!