Throwing light

Pradeep Chakravarthy is a management consultant. But he is more than that, as well. He is deeply interested in the history and heritage - of this part of the world, specifically. He has written "Thanjavur: A Cultural History" and has also been the editor of a collection of writings on Kodaikanal. So, when he announces that he is going to lead a session to explain the basic differences between the Pallava, Chola and Vijayanagara styles, there is a rush to be part of that session. We were lucky to get in, and there we were at the Museum on Sunday morning. 

Basically: the Pallavas were the earliest of the three - their sculptures of Gods, or humans, were natural, showing them in relaxed postures, low on detailing, oval faces, cylindrical headgear. Through the Chola period, the figures became more stylized, the headgear conical, faces rounder and the body began to take postures that would have been difficult to sustain in real life. The volume of sculptures grew through the Chola and the Vijayanagara dynasties, and they became more 'industrialized'; templated designs and details, churned out by moderately skilled craftsmen, sacrificing originality and natural representation for the ease of mass production.

There were more details, and Pradeep weaved them into a tapestry of how life must have been in those days of yore; it was a compelling performance. The importance of noticing details, which is what helps you become a more-than-an-open-mouthed-gaper, was especially brought out right at the start. What most people would consider to be run of the mill stone columns near the statue of the Buddha are actually columns from the Pallava era, with inscriptions revealing what the king Mahendravarman considered himself to be. For more on that, over to Pradeep himself!

Second bridge

In the earliest days of the city of Madras - essentially the Fort St George - the main exit from the city would probably have been through the Walajah gate, heading out west to the seat of the Nayaks at  Poonamallee. There would have been less reason to go south; the twin rivers in that direction would have made it even less attractive. But by the early 18th century, the journey to the Mount was a reason for the residents of the Fort to cross two rivers. Bridges were required. The Elambore River was probably the easier to ford; there is a record from 1714 about a "Water-Gate Bridge" between the Fort and the Island. The second bridge, over the Cooum took another two years to be built.

Called the Triplicane Bridge, it appears to have been a rather ill-fated bridge. In 1721, it was damaged by floods. Though it was repaired, repeated floods brought it down. As if nature wasn't enough, la Bourdonnais also brought it down. Between man and nature, the bridge kept falling down and rising up, until the new century came up. In 1805, a new bridge was built. The earlier one(s) never had any formal name(s) - Triplicane Bridge and Island Bridge were variously used, with startling originality. 

The same originality continued into the new century, with the new bridge. Or maybe it was just superstition or sentimentality, for the bridge was named after the patron saint of England. Not just that. It was called the New St George's Bridge, for, in the intervening period, the Water-Gate Bridge had been replaced by St George's Bridge about fifty years earlier. That name continued to be in use for well over a hundred and fifty years. It was only in the late 70s that it was renamed after EVK Ramasamy Naicker, and it is by his name that it continues to be known today - Periyar Bridge!

Tuck in

A little behind the Music Academy, on TTK Road, this eatery has been a haunt for the displaced Malayalee ever since it opened about 30 years ago. I think it is a slight exaggeration to call it a restaurant, for it is a very basic operation. Tables, chairs, steel plates - maybe a few plain china plates as well - the waiters dressed as they please, no uniforms here, it gets to be about as authentic a Kerala experience as possible.

There are some outfits that try to keep up with their early clientele, growing old - 'evolving', if you will - with them. And then there are others that try to stay young, staying with their original reputation, forever attracting a new generation of patrons. That approach runs the risk of being branded 'downmarket', especially if the new generation considers their offerings too old-fashioned.

Kalpaka has probably got its act down well; their menu is just the standard, solid, regular fare, things that the Malayalee has been used to for maybe a couple of centuries. Aapam, the Kerala porotta, and the Kerala Syrian Beef Fry. These are comfort foods for the non-resident Keralite and there is still a regular inflow of them into the city, keeping Kalpaka in business - and true to its coconut oil roots!

Cooum Kong

That's the only way to describe this creature depicted on the roof of a temple by the Cooum. For all its incongruity, it looks humanoid enough to scare away some intruders!

Collapsed

The II Draft of the Master Plan for Chennai envisioned cycle rickshaws as a viable mode of para-transit, shuttling between residential areas and the collection points for the larger modes of transport. But that plan seems to be a fairly long way from being put into action. The cycle rickshaws seem to be where they were many years ago; not a single new rickshaw seems to have hit the streets. 

But they haven't gone away entirely, either. In some parts of the city - near the Central Station, around the streets of George Town, and towards the end of Mount Road, near Chintadripet - they are still quite common modes of transport. 

This one, however, does not seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere. Its owner/driver was sitting nearby, not a care in the world. The rickshaw doesn't seem to be damaged or having been hauled in for maintenance. Maybe it is just taking a break!

Square arch

This was raised in 2012 to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the Tamil Nadu legislature. It was earlier the Madras state and somehow it was felt necessary to mark the transition of the name of the state with this structure. 

It is called an arch, but its outline defies the definition. 

For better or worse, it is going to remain on the Kamaraj Salai for a while, so let us enjoy it while it is around!

Remembrance

It has been a hundred years since the Great War began. Being a part of the British Empire at the time, India was drawn into the war, without too much of a say in the matter. Notionally a volunteer force, the Indian Army was pitched into several battles; with them were the armies of several princely states and European volunteers. The total number of troops from India was over a million. Almost four-fifths of them were sent to Middle East Asia, with the rest going to France and to Africa. 

Over 60,000 soldiers from India lost their lives in the Great War. The founding nucleus of the Indian Army, the Madras Regiment, had its fair share of causalities. The city decided to honour the fallen with a memorial at the south-west end of Fort St George. The space that was known as "Cupid's Bow" until then was cleared up and an open, circular stone pavilion was built. On the western side, the circle is marked with the years 1914 and 1918.

This pillar, in the centre of the circle, was a later addition, after World War II. The years are repeated here. Around the circle, each section commemorates a battlefield where soldiers from Madras Presidency laid down their lives. Some of the names are no longer in common use: Mesopotamia, for example. Some others:  well, they have become so enmeshed with fighting that one reads them with weariness - for example, Gaza. This memorial to the fallen soldiers of the Madras Presidency has been modified to reflect some of independent India's wars. Let us hope that there will not be reasons to keep updating this memorial!

Really?

This building was one of the most visible faces of the Nilgiri's Dairy Farm - a business that was begun in 1905 when Muthuswamy Mudaliar, a dak runner, opened a shop at Charles Villa, Coonoor. Muthuswamy was probably servicing requests from the families up on the hills to bring up butter and similar products from the plains and he felt he could do better than to carry such stuff piecemeal. 

In 2006, after the business had completed a century, the PE firm Actis took a majority stake in Nilgiri's and franchised the brand. At that time, this store on Radhakrishnan Salai was the only one being run directly by the first family. Sometime last year, Prabhu Ramachandran, Muthuswamy's  great-grandson took this property back from Actis, through the Blue Hills Group, an investment company with interests in diverse businesses.

So now, the family of the founder do not have the rights to the Nilgiri's brand. The Blue Hills Group has bought, apart from this store, a few of the other stores as well. Having done so, they have brought a clutch of brands into their new chain. Many of them are new, and even seem to be homegrown in Chennai. But there is one large sign announcing this to be the "Waitrose London Supermarket" - though it seems quite different from that famous London supermarket!

A different view

The road along the Cooum just after the Napier Bridge leads to the establishments of the Coast Guard, the Navy - the INS Adyar - and the CISF. Also along the road are residential quarters for officers of the Chennai Port. With so many government establishments along the way, signs and barriers - not to mention the odd security guard as well - make one nervous about pulling out a camera anywhere on that stretch.

But the view from the end of the road gives you a fair approximation of what the Madras coast must have looked like in olden days. The sandy beach runs south for a fair distance. The buildings of the University of Madras, government offices along the coast, the TV tower and the multi-super-speciality hospital in the distance... that's quite an unusual view if you are not a resident of the naval quarters.

The Cooum was still - as it is most of the time - and therefore looking deceptively calm. It was reflective of the lazy Sunday morning that it was!

Prison gate

It is now over 5 years since the Madras Central Jail was demolished, making way for the new block of the Madras Medical College there. For the last few years of its existence, the Jail at Park Town had no inmates, all of them having been moved to the sprawling campus of the new, model prison complex at Puzhal. The earlier Central Jail in Chennai had about 11 acres of space; the suburban train track ran right next to it. The noise of traffic would not have been very far, either. 

The Puzhal complex is far bigger. For starters, it is not one prison, but three. The complex houses the Chennai Central Prisons I and II, each with a capacity of 1250 inmates. Then there is the Special Prison for Women, which can hold 500 women prisoners. All these are spread out over an area of 212 acres, almost in the middle of nowhere. At least, when the prison started functioning, there were not many other establishment on that stretch of the NH5, about 25km out of Chennai. 

Even now, there are not too many reasons to stop at Puzhal. The locality has a population of about 30,000, most of who seem to be living just across the highway from the prison gate. From the highway, the entrance looks quite neat, with arches above the gate not quite indicating what lies within. The prisoners here surely get a greater sense of loneliness than in the crowded Chennai facility earlier!

Takeaway store

That is the theme for the month, but what is a store if it is not to take things away from? This one in West Mambalam doesn't stop with the usual coconut biscuits, murukku and peanut candy, but lets you know that it offers food for thought as well.

Though, with that spelling, one would be taking a big chance on what is going to be actually taken here!

First of the month, it is the Theme Day again. Head over to the collection of theme day pictures from CDP bloggers around the world!

Old building

With the nationalization of the life insurance business, the LIC of India became a monopoly. With that also came the assets of several of the life insurance companies that were doing business in India - almost 250 of them. 

Many of those companies had long histories. Among the oldest was the Oriental Life Insurance Company of Calcutta, which had been started in Calcutta in 1818. With its nationalisation, their buildings were also taken over by the LIC. That's how this lovely building, at the corner of Armenian Street and Errabalu Chetty Street came to have that sign in front, looking quite out of place with the rest of the facade. 

It is often held up as an example of Art Deco in Madras; of course it is from that period, the 1920s, but somehow I think the architect / builder slipped in some Jaipuri-Jaina touches as well. The jalli of the uppermost balcony is, in my mind a giveaway - what do you think?

Ships at rest

When you are stuck for ideas, Chennai has a great solution. Go to the beach. Since it is not the sand there that clears your mind, I went to another place by the sea.

The Port of Chennai is 139 years old this year, going by the foundation stone. Or maybe even older, if you take into account previous attempts at building a harbour on this unforgiving seashore. Whichever way, it has seen it all.

Wonder if anyone has made any watercolours of it!

Memorial to a poet

The Bharathi Ilakkiya Mandram is one of the innumerable groups that celebrate the life and works of Mahakavi Subramania Bharathi. Bharathi was one of modern India's greatest poets, a firebrand nationalist who considered prejudices as great an enemy as the British. His poems were therefore as much exhortations against the imperial rule as they were against social practices which marginalized women. 

Born at Ettayapuram, educated at Tirunelveli, widely travelled across India, Bharathi's involvement with the freedom movement was in the company of the more strident nationalists like Tilak and Chidambaram Pillai. That brought the British police on him and he moved to Pondicherry, then under French occupation. He came back to British India in 1918, was arrested and imprisoned. Though he was released within a couple of weeks, he had to sign an undertaking that he would show his works to the DIG of police before publishing them. Obviously, this cramped his style considerably and the stress led to his health breaking down.

His last years were spent in Triplicane. Living in a house near the Parthasarathy temple, he regularly visited there, and got into the habit of feeding Lavanya, the temple elephant. One day, in a spirit of playfulness, Lavanya knocked him down; already frail, this blow was quite debilitating to the poet. He survived for a few more months, house-bound. After he died in 1921, he was never forgotten, but rarely celebrated, either, for a long time. The owners of the house he lived in at Triplicane, were loath to turn it into any kind of memorial. It was only in 1993 that the Bharathi Ilakkiya Mandram succeeded in having the government take over the building and turn it into the Mahakavi Subramania Bharathi Memorial House, making it one more memorial to the poet in his home state.  Among the many pieces of memorabilia here is a two line letter, blessing the opening of the memorial at his birthplace in 1947, from Mahatma Gandhi - written in Tamizh!

What's new?

It is not fair to expect a 'Tea House' to be open in the morning, which is when this picture was taken. The Novelty Tea House is not a pretentious newcomer to the world of eating out in Chennai; it is an establishment that is being run by the third generation in the business currently. 

Chandrakant Moolchand Shah was probably frustrated trying to find some north Indian snacks in the early '50s. He channeled that frustration into setting up a stall. There seem to have been no grand plans initially; it was just a 'tea stall', but clearly, the desire was to be different, hence 'Novelty'. Sowcarpet, where the first stall was, welcomed it. Over 50 years, the stall grew into a 'House', but remained within the north Madras area. It was only over the last 4 or 5 years that they have opened out to other parts of the city.

This one on Radhakrishnan Salai is, I believe, the most recent of the three locations. When open, it is usually chock-a-block with those itching to have a dahi-poori or four with their cuppa tea, or maybe a faluda. Once inside, it is easy to imagine you are away from Chennai - there is so much of Hindi in the air that English and Tamizh sound intrusive. But that is only to be expected at an establishment which claims to have introduced the pav-bhaji to Madras!

Big man

We have seen this man before. Here. He sits in the middle of the Peoples' Park, lording it over the grounds. This is the statue of Diwan Bahadur R. Subbayya Naidu, CIE who was Commissioner of the Corporation of Madras between 1937-40. 

Though there is not much that I have been able to find about his tenure. He seems to have been a civil servant dedicated to the Empire rather than to the people. An announcement in the Straits Times of Singapore on January 21, 1937, informs us that Subbayya Naidu was a former Agent of the Government of India in British Malaya - he certainly did get around. 

Until 2008, this statue, like the others in the park was all uniformly white. Whoever came up with this colour scheme probably thought of this man as a blue-blooded sahib!

School in the middle

As one of the earliest planned settlements of the city of Madras, during the 1730s, the designers of Chintadripet had thought of several amenities, including deities from the "old" city of Madras, for the convenience of its residents. However, they do not seem to have paid much attention to education - in the formal sense, as we know it now. It is not as if such schools were unknown; the 'Madras System of Education' was exported back to England from St George's School in the century before Chintadripet was a gleam on the banks of the Cooum. 

The oldest school in the Chintadripet areas is the 170 year old Chintadripet Higher Secondary School. This one in the picture is of a much more recent vintage. In the late 1940s, there was a need to expand one of the existing schools run by the Kalyanam Chetty family (who had funded it). It was then that Rao Bahadur Ganapathi Pillai, a Councillor of the Corporation of Madras, came forward and offered his property to house the school. He had only one condition: that the building should never be demolished. 

The construction of the times being quite solid, the building remains in fairly good condition. Even though it is crowded by its neighbours, the Chintadripet Middle School continues to run from this building - named "Ganapathi Buildings" after its benefactor!

Headgear man

It is sunny in Chennai and these fans would come in handy to beat the heat. And you don't have to always fan yourself; they can protect you from the sun as well!

Old and new

A curious blend of architectural styles on Radhakrishnan Salai. Which one do you think looks better?

River and sea

That's another view of the Adyar river going out into the Bay of Bengal. You can see the green expanse of the Theosophical Society on the south bank, and with a bit of imagination, the 'broken bridge' across the mouth of the river.

That spit of land in the middle of the estuary has a few office buildings, a hotel, an apartment complex, and a building that starred in Mission Impossible:4. Can you spot it?

No prizes for guessing where I am! 

Dealers' associaton

In 1926, a few businessmen involved in the motor vehicles trade in Madras decided that they needed to get together to make common cause. The lead was taken by Sir Alexander MacDougall of Simpson's, the leading automaker of the time in the city. With him were H.E. Gow of George Oakes, F.G. Luker of Addisons, F.D. Growchery of Fiat and Kabardhars (Senior and Junior) of Patel & Company. Their founding day was April 23rd and they named their association the Madras Motor Vehicle and Motor Cycle Importers Association.

Within three years, they had to change their name. Motor Vehicles and Allied Merchants Association represented a broader spectrum of businesses than just vehicle importers. In 1938, they were registered as a joint stock company, Motor Vehicles and Allied Industries Association. As the apex body of the automobile trade - including the ancillary ecosystems - the MVAIA has been recognized as a consultative body by the state and central governments. 

In 1964, the MVAIA went a step ahead and became one of the co-founders of the Federation of Automobile Dealers Associations (FADA). The FADA seems to be quite active, going by their website. The MVAIA does carry out a lot of activities, but it is quite difficult to find specific details about them. Now that is not surprising, given that even their headquarters is so nondescript!

The lady's gardens

Entering the People's Park through its southern gate, you get to see this statue - of Venus, is it? - behaving as if you are an unexpected visitor. It is quite a rarity, for it is not usual to see a bare-breasted sculpture in Chennai, outside of a few temples, in such a public location. Is this the lady of what was once called My Ladye's Garden? Most likely not, for this statue, and a few others around this park were probably set up in the 1930s, at least 70 years after the park was opened to the public. The impetus for this park was provided by Sir Charles Trevelyan, Governor of Madras between 1859-60, who was clear that the middle class of Madras needed a large, open space for recreation and entertainment. 

My Ladye's Garden was only one part of the People's Park; the entire park covered nearly 120 acres of space. A dozen lakes dotted the park, with boating facilities in at least one of them. Madras' first zoo, which was located on the grounds of the museum, moved here, taking up a sizeable chunk of the grounds. The zoo expanded over the years, adding a cheetah here, a few deer there, a couple of tigers and so on. Until it moved to the Aringar Anna Zoological Park in the mid 1980s, this was where Madras' citizens would come to see wild animals. 

Over the years, the People's Park has been nibbled away. Space for the Victoria Public Hall was allocated. The Ripon Building took up a section. The South Indian Athletic Association was given space for a pavilion and grounds. The Moore Market was accommodated. The Railways expanded, and chewed up some more space. Lily Pond Complex, that replaced Moore Market took up its share. And then the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium came up, along with the indoor sports complex, reducing the People's Park to the My Ladye's Garden. Go too quickly on Sydenham's Road and you might miss the gate to the park. While it still remains a large - and well used - lung for this part of the city, it is certainly a comedown for the feature that defined the area, which continues to be known as Park Town!

Bad accident

On a Sunday morning, you don't want to bump into a motorcycle with your car. Even if you do, it might be better to choose an ordinary biker than a traffic policeman. If you still had to, you could choose a better spot than near Saravana Bhavan on Radhakrishnan Salai, where over 20 traffic policemen had gathered for their morning cuppa.

Certainly a bad Sunday morning for the car driver!

The other one

Set back a little from the road, this is not really an eye-catching property. Forty years ago, when it opened for business, it would probably have been, if only because it was one of the few multi-storeyed buildings on this stretch. It opened in 1975; it seems to have stayed in the '70s even today. The staff are long-timers, and the hotel clock hasn't bothered to keep pace with the hectic life of today. It is therefore something of an anachronism on this stretch. 

But Hotel Maris has a lot of things going for it. The rooms are still in the '70s sizes, which means the guests have a lot of space going for them. The service is reasonable, even if it is not fast. The food is - well, you may not have too many choices in the hotel itself, but with its location, you can step out, across or round the corner for a wide range of choices. That's the big plus for this hotel - its location. It is convenient for folks wanting to go to the American Consulate for their visa interviews, or for those coming in for the music season, and maybe even for those who come in to Chennai looking to get their daughters into Stella Maris, just about half-a-kilometre away.

But the Maris-es are different. The hotel's website acknowledges its neighbour, but disclaims any inspiration for its name. The college is named for the 'Star of the Seas'; the hotel, on the other hand, has a different reason for the name. It was set up, and continues to be owned by the Maris Group, which has its headquarters in Trichy. And that group was named after its founder, Mariapillai!

Early schooling

In 1857, Lady Sybilla Harris, wife of Lord Harris, the Governor of Madras, made a donation of £1,500 to start a school exclusively for Muslims. The recipient of this donation was the Church Missions Society; a seemingly odd decision, but it somehow went through initially. However, it ran into rough weather soon. Lord Harris declared the the "...Christian cause shall no longer be kept in the background, but put forth before the people...". That was proof enough of its proselytic intent and several Muslim and Hindu residents petitioned the Secretary of State for India in London, Lord Stanley, asking for the school to be closed.

That petition did not result in any action. The school, named Harris High School for Muslims, continued to function in Triplicane. But the locals went ahead and ostracised the students and their families. A fatwa was issued to excommunicate the school's supporters. Somehow the school struggled on. The arrival of Edward Sell as the school's principal in 1865 probably cooled tempers for a bit. Sell was only 26, but already had a reputation for his Islamic scholarship and was able to steer the school through until 1881, when he stepped down. 

For several years after that, it seemed to be more an issue of egos; the CMS continued to struggle with running the school. It was only in the 1920s that they began thinking about closing it down. It was then that the Muslim Educational Association of South India (MEASI) stepped in and took over the management of the school. The first thing they did was to rename it. Unlike its contemporary in Royapettah, the Muslim Higher Secondary School in Triplicane makes sure it has nothing to remember its founders by!

Upside down world

One of Chennai's wondrous sights is actually a pretty commonplace activity. If you stand on the Thiru-Vi-Ka bridge at dusk, you will be treated to a sight of bats - a few thousand of them - setting off on their nightly forage. Not many people see it, because it is peak hour for humans also, rushing across the bridge at the end of the workday. The bats, of course are just starting their 'day', and they fan out in all directions but east. 

More properly, they are the Indian Flying Foxes (Pteropus giganteus), also known as the Fruit Bat. Almost all of them come out of the grounds of the Theosophical Society, which is at the southern end of the bridge. Inside the grounds, the ficus, tamarind and other trees provide plenty of roosting space for these bats. They hang upside down, in large colonies and fill the air around the trees with their incessant chattering. 

So the next time you go walking inside the Theosophical Society's gardens, do not assume the sound you hear is of running water. Look up. Check out all those black patches on the trees. And of an evening, watch those black patches take flight. It is certainly a spectacular sight!

Look again

No,  this is not a timeline or a wall. It is just a part of the social media spilling out on to the roads. Sydenhams Road, to be specific. 

Can any social media outfit match the range of merchandise offered by this shop?

Egg offering

The way in which the name of this temple in Mylapore is spoken conjures up a rather awkward image of its principal deity. The fast paced description of this as "முண்டகண்ணி அம்மன்" (mundakanni amman) indicates eyes in a headless form; the actual name "முண்டகக்கண்ணி அம்மன்" (mundakakanni amman) conveys more elegance, of the lotus-eyed one. That is only one of the oddities about this temple to the Goddess in the form of Saraswati. 

For starters, the temple's main deity is "svyambhu", having appeared spontaneously over 1,300 years ago. Of course, there is little evidence to support this belief, but it is agreed that it has been around for a few generations here. The sanctum is covered with a thatched roof, as it is believed that it is the best way for the Goddess to remain cool, being surrounded by natural materials. A banyan tree grows right behind the sanctum, adding to the cool of the temple. 

The banyan is also home to the nagadevatha, the snake Goddess. Devotees coming to worship Saraswati are also advised to propitiate the snakes. To this end, one can get a puja package that includes an egg - something that is taboo at almost every other temple. The egg, and milk, are offered to the snake Goddess along with flowers for the main deity!

Legend of the pole

To the east of the St Thomas Basilica, just as the ground drops off to the beach, stands this wooden pole. Legend has it that this is a splinter of a colossal tree that fell across the Adyar river, causing a flood in the neighbourhood. The king (yes, this legend goes back a couple of millennia) tried sending his elephants and mahouts to move the log; no success. It was then that the wandering holy man threw his girdle around the tree trunk and yanked it out to the shore. That was St Thomas and the log has now whittled down to this pole. 

It is a nice story, but there is no way to authenticate it. The legend of Thomas is an article of faith and this wooden pole is going the same way. A more plausible explanation of this wooden structure is that it is all that remains of a flag pole from the time that the Portuguese occupied the town of San Thome. The town's fortifications extended to the beach and this flag pole would have stood on the eastern bastion. 

In 2004, when the tsunami struck the Marina, the waters did not rise up to where the pole stood. There can be many explanations for that (significantly, the pole is at a reasonably high elevation from the shore and the tsunami fizzed out at this spot), but there is only one that the faithful believe - that this pole was the only factor that stood between San Thome and the tsunami!

Holy hillock

If the Portuguese had called St Thomas Mount "El Grande Monti", it is reasonable to assume that there must have been an "El Pouca Monti" as well, somewhere. You don't have to search too hard for it, because the English equivalent of that phrase has been translated into Tamizh as well. Little Mount, or சின்னமலை, was what it is called, and it is on the wrong side of the river Adyar from St Thomas Mount. 

But the Little Mount is also associated with St Thomas, perhaps even more strongly than the larger one is. It was in a grotto in this little hillock by the river that Thomas Didymus took refuge in, when the shores of Meliapore became too warm for him, figuratively. The entrance to the grotto is now ensconced in the church you see in the centre. Built by the Portuguese in 1551, it is known as the Blessed Sacrament Chapel. In 1711, an adjunct was constructed; When the 19th century of St Thomas' martyrdom was observed in 1971, the adjunct shrine was expanded and modified into a church by itself, called the Church of Our Lady of Health. 

There are several legends of Thomas around this place. The grotto has a tiny exit on the other side, besides which there appears an imprint of a palm, which is believed to be St. Thomas'. A hop-step away from that exit, on a flat piece of rock, is a large, foot-shaped discolouration, which is believed to be a footprint of the saint. There is also the 'bleeding cross', said to have been carved in the rock by Thomas, and, where he smote the rock with his stick, there appeared a spring; that trickle of water continues to run today and is considered to have curative powers. With so much of myth around it, no wonder this place needs to be honoured with two churches, rather than just one!

Chariot procession

Many translations of such events refer to them as "Car" festivals. Yes, it is a vehicle no doubt, but I prefer to translate தேர் as 'chariot' rather than a pedestrian 'car'. This one is part of the Bhramotsavam of Sri Narasimha Swamy at Triplicane's Parthasarathy Swamy Temple. On the seventh day of the Bhramotsavam, the decorated chariot is taken around the streets encircling the temple, pulled by devotees. 

Ahead of the chariot is the phalanx of mamas, in traditional Iyengar garb, reciting verses from the நாலாயிரத் திவ்வியப் பிரபந்தம் (Nalayira divya prabandham, four thousand divine codices). Ahead of them, maamis rush to put the final flourishes on their kolams before the கோஷ்டி reaches their doorstep. 

It is a formidable sight, with the chariot being pulled at what can be considered break-back speed trying to catch up with the chanting crowd, while devotees prostrate before the கோஷ்டி or before the chariot, falling down and getting up at speed, without getting in the way of others. In times gone by, this procession would probably have taken half-a-day, stopping at several points along their short way. Today, it was over in a relative flash, within 90 minutes or so; that must have been a very rapid recitation of the divya prabandham!

Market model

In the evening of May 30, 1985, the city of Madras heard about a fire near the Central Station. By the next morning, the fire, supposedly set off by an electrical fault, had completely gutted an 85-year old icon of the city. More than 20 fire engines, including Simon Snorkel, had battled the blaze, but the combination of paper, cloth, vinyl and plastic made sure that the building was beyond salvage. Thus ended Moore Market, the go-to place for old books, records, clothes, pet supplies, exotic meats and pretty much everything that anyone in Madras might have a fancy for. 

In the closing years of the 19th century, an organized market for groceries, meats and other items was a dire need for the city's European (and westernized) residents. An earlier market, on Popham's Broadway, had been long marked down as being unsanitary, but no concrete action on an alternate had been taken. Enter Sir George Montgomerie John Moore, who had taken over as President of the Corporation of Madras in 1886. Though he had begun addressing this requirement in the early days of his term, the selection of a suitable site - which turned out to be a corner of the Peoples' Park near the Central Station - and clearing it up (there was a thriving Gujili Bajaar (okay, Guzili Bazaar), a grey market of second-hand, counterfeit and purloined goods operating there) took a while and it was only in 1898 that the foundation stone was laid.

Sir George was clear that apart from its functional requirements, the new market should aesthetically blend its architecture with its neighbours, Central Station to the east and Victoria Public Hall to the west. The architect chosen was R.E.Ellis and the market was built by A. Subramania Iyer. In 1890, the Governor of Madras, Sir Arthur Havelock opened the Moore Market for trade. Over the course of the 20th century, the Moore Market served the needs of a variety of Madras' citizenry, until other shopping options came up in the 1970s and 80s. Yet, Moore Market held on. The bookshops were a bibliophile's paradise and many other things beside. With that fire on a summer night, a part of Madras' soul was extinguished. 

There are many claimants to the name today. The Allikulam (அல்லி குளம் - Lily Pond) complex tries to pass off as today's Moore Market. There is a digital version somewhere. The Railways call their office complex (built where the market stood) the "Moore Market Complex (MMC)". But the original building can be seen in this faithful replica, right in the middle of the parking complex outside the Railways' MMC. The model is quite exquisite, but the way it is neglected forces one to thinking that it might meet the same fate as its original!

Special agency school

In May 1872, Lord Hobart took over as Governor of Madras. Lady Hobart and he were convinced that the best way for impoverished Muslim families to improve their lot was to accept Western education. To this end, Lord Hobart established the 'special agency' system, whereby schools were to be established especially for Muslims. Spurred by the new Governor's enthusiasm, a school for girls was set up at Royapettah. The enthusiasm was infectious and within a short time, the school had outgrown its first location and had to encroach on to the grounds nearby. 

Humayun Jah Bahadur, a descendent of Tipu Sultan, came forward and gave over Shah Sawar Jung Bagh, his property on Whites Road to house the school. Lady Hobart herself chipped in with a personal donation of Rs.18,000 to the school. Her support for this institution would have helped it take great strides ahead; unfortunately, that was not to be. Lord Hobart died quite suddenly in 1875 and his widow had to return to England.

The school went ahead, however. Having started off as a primary school, it was very quickly raised to high school status. Hindustani and Tamizh were added to the curriculum, in addition to Urdu and English. Well into the 20th century, around 1945, these premises were home to a women's college, with 75% of seats reserved for Muslim women. Though the college was shifted out (and its administration changed hands) later, the school still functions from its Whites Road premises. Run by the state government, the Lord and Lady who helped set it up are remembered in its name - the Government Hobart Higher Secondary School for Muslim Girls!

Cricket, lovely cricket

Today, India start their 5-test series in England. In keeping with that, here is a glimpse into the M.A.Chidambaram stadium at Chepauk, seen as the MRTS train passes it. 

Keeping fingers crossed on the Indian team wresting the Pataudi Trophy back from England!

New building

That's the new building of the Madras Medical College. Construction was completed last year and it was then waiting for its classrooms to be furnished. Surely all of that would have been done - I hope it is ready to see students at least in the new academic year coming up.

Do you remember what was here earlier? This!

Local mosque

Surely there is a more formal name for this mosque than just calling it Periamet Mosque. That's the locality where it is and so that is what it is called. Set up by leather traders sometime in the mid-19th century, the mosque has gone through a couple of rounds of restoration. 

Best is that you don't try to address it by its formal name, even if there is one. Chances are, nobody will know what you are talking about!

Seats

The People's Park certainly has a lot of space for people to sit and enjoy the greenery. If you click on the picture (or open it in a separate tab), you will notice a half-kneeling gentleman, bare torso, tiara, twirled moustache and all. That was probably the way they sat in the royal gardens of a long time ago.

And then there is the man in the blue suit, sitting on cushioned chair, appearing to be a person of some importance. (He was that, but more about him in a later post). And then, there is the seat for us, the aam aadmi, the wrought-iron bench that we will have to share with our friends. 

We can also choose to sit on one of the several steps that are found at various spots around the park; best of all, we could sit on the grass of a pleasant afternoon!