The other end

If you've read an earlier post about Chennai airport, you would have seen the silhouette of what was the earliest passenger terminal of the airport. The aircraft rolled towards that building, turned around and sped off along the runway to take off.

At the other - the southwestern end - it rose over the boundary walls of the airport. Beyond those yellow lines of the wall is the space where the airport will expand into, over the next five years or so. And about time too!

Catch 'n' throw

What do you do when you live in a slum and don't have space to keep pets? One option of course is to believe that every animal around your house is your own and care for them - much more effort than a single pet, but then, there will be many more people caring, as well.

Seems to be this boy had adopted the pigeon as his own. His friends were not as comfortable running behind it, but this kid was at it, over and over again. He'd run behind the pigeon - which would just hop around wherever it was, waiting for him - grab it and run across to the other side of the road. Didn't matter where the pigeon was, on top of a hut, on the door of a small shrine, on the road; he just followed it to where it was and scooped it up with one hand, very neatly.

And then he ran across the road, and bends, ready to let go in a slingshot action. Several of the passers-by ducked, and began to rumble ominously, thinking the boy was throwing a stone at them, before the rumbles turned into sheepish smiles as they saw the pigeon flying up and across the road!

The hundred-year fire

It seems to be generally accepted that the first Parsis arrived in Madras sometime in 1795 and that they decided to stay on because the city afforded them many opportunities to turn their hand to business. In any case, Madras of the late 18th century was probably a melting pot of various nationalities and ethnic groups and so the Parsis would not have felt out of place in this great city. For a very long time, however, the Parsis did not have any formal place of worship; the major reason for this seems to be the inablity to find a priest who would settle in Madras. The Dar-e-Meher, or Fire Temple, houses the undying sacred flame that must be stoked five times a day by a priest. Without a priest, there seemed little point in building a temple.

The first permanent priest arrived in 1906. But the Dar-e-Meher itself took a while longer to come up. Parsi fire temples are of varied categories, graded by the sanctity of the fire within. The highest grade, the Atash Behram (Fire of Victory) is built by collecting fires from 16 different sources (caused by lightning, from a cremation, from furnaces operated for trade, from household hearths, and so on) and requires 32 priests to perform all the ceremonies involved in its consecration, which could take over a year to complete. At the other end is the Atash Dadgah, which could even be a lamp or a hearth over which the Yasna liturgy has been recited.

The Jal Phiroj Clubwala Dar-E-Meher is classified as an Atash Adaran (Fire of Fires), which is a combination of fires from four different sources representing four different working groups: priests, soldiers / statesmen, farmers and artisans. Named after the young son of Phiroj Clubwala, a prominent (and philanthropic) Parsi of Madras, the temple is built on land donated by him, upon which the grieving family had had this temple, designed and built by Hormusji Nowroji (another prominent Parsi of Madras) consecrated on August 7, 1910. Over the years, the monument has been the centre of their faith for the Parsis of Chennai and over the past week, they have come out strong in celebrating the centenary of the temple where the fire has been burning continuously for a hundred years, now!

Old and new trees

Looking out from the MRTS coach as it runs parallel to Rajiv Gandhi Salai (earlier called Old Mahabalipuram Road), it is nice to see the recently planted saplings all in a straight line, well trimmed and providing a green border to the road. The median, while needing a little more filling out in its shrubbery, adds to the green motif.

As far as I have been able to make out, the saplings and the shrubbery are all non-native plants, even if they have been around for a while. But what caught the eye was the lonely palm a little away from the margins of the road. It is obviously not part of the planned landscaping, but one that has been on this stretch for a long while. Maybe it was left standing out of respect for its status as the state tree of Tamil Nadu!

Gated parking

Seeing all those cars zip around George Town, one wonders where they go to rest for the night. For a long while, I was under the impression that the cars only brought the traders into the Town; when the day's work was done, they would go away from these congested enclaves, to their garden houses along the river Adayar to come back refreshed for the next day's work.

Obviously, that is not the case. Many of those conducting their business in George Town live fairly close by, if not in the Town itself. And the cars are normally parked inside the house itself - at least, with the shutters pulled down on the portico, there is nothing between the house and the road. Maybe these are additional cars, or more likely, these cars were housed in the building that used to occupy this space - and they keep coming back to their space out of sheer habit!

Driving through arches

McDonald's was very late in coming to Chennai. Their first outlet in India was set up as far back as 1996, when they opened their Connaught Place outlet in New Delhi. Their first outlet in Chennai was opened a dozen years later, when they took up space inside the food court at Ascendas, following with the standalone store at Anna Nagar a short while later.

The third outlet was in Velachery. Those who know Chennai from a decade ago would wonder at this - Velachery was at that time a sleepy suburb, where good folks wouldn't think of eating outside their houses, let alone get to a McDonald's at that. But Velachery has changed considerably and even for McDonald, it wasn't enough to just put another outlet there; it had to be a shade above the others in Chennai.

And so it is that Velachery boasts this family restaurant, supposedly the "only Drive-Thru' restaurant" in Chennai. Well, with the Woodlands Drive-In gone, we have to make-do with such substitutes!

Wandering grinder

At first glance he seemed to be carrying a bicycle - no, a unicycle - on his back. Bent forward by the weight of the frame, he trudged along. A few steps down, he looked up and calculating the optimum angle for his voice to carry through the street, he bellowed, "saana pudikarathu, kaththi saana...".

There weren't many who responded to the call. Even the older folks seem to have forgotten that their knives need sharpening. And this man walked on, untiring, the grindstone-and-wheel arrangement fitted on a wooden frame that he carries on his back, looking up only to repeat his cry, "...saana pudikarathu, kaththi saana!"

A bridge too far

From a conference room on Swami Sivananda Salai - that was Adam's Road, once upon a time - it is a beautiful view of the Chennai shoreline, even if its view to the south is blocked by various buildings. And as with any view of the sea, this one is also so very peaceful and unchanging that it is easy to stand gazing at it and forget time passing by.

Luckily there are a couple of distractions: the Napier Bridge, with its six bows strung across the Cooum, the sandbar blocking the river's mouth as it empties into the Bay of Bengal, the shacks in the foreground, put up to house the labourers working at the new Assembly complex - there is enough to yank the eye away from the ships on the Madras Roads.

Even then, the windows of the conference room had a band of opaque glass running through the bottom quarter. Else, nobody in the room would pay too much attention to what is going on inside - it is far more inviting to pay attention to the outdoors!

Bright colours

The Olcott Memorial High School merits a separate post for itself, but for today's "Theme Day" post, the colourful wall of its Craft Centre will suffice. The Craft Centre was opened in 1988, adding one more dimension to a school that started in 1894 with the aim of educating "Panchamas" - those of the fifth caste, who at that time were not welcome anywhere.

The intent of the Craft Centre is to provide skill-based education in some crafts such as carpentry, screen printing or pattern making. A few years ago, a student from George Washington University's Art Therapy program (if I'm right, it was Anne Jonas) had worked with the students of the Craft Centre to paint one of the building's walls in bright colours; here they are, still looking pretty vivid!



It is Theme Day over at the City Daily Photo portal; click here to see folks from around the world interpret today's theme. And oh, yes, it is good to be back!

Musiri's house

This is not a house which catches your eye from the street. When it was originally built by Musiri Subramania Iyer, it probably had a large garden in front of the building, and a drive-way winding up to the door from Oliver Road. Musiri was one of the first carnatic musicians to buy a car and was, according to Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer, the one man who bestowed "gauravam" (prestige) on the carnatic musician.

In keeping with his stature, this house has played host to several famous people. Apart from Musiri's contemporaries in the carnatic music firmament, businessmen, lawyers, and civil servants have all passed through its doors. These days, the doors continue to be open for anyone with more than a passing interest in carnatic music; Musiri's grandson has a sort of open house once a month or so, when one doesn't need an invite, but can walk in if interested.

The driveway, if ever there was one, is gone. So has Oliver Road - thanks to Semmangudi's lobbying, it was renamed Musiri Subramanian Salai. Quaintly enough, Subramania Iyer was not from Musiri, but was born at Bommalapalayam; his friend S.Y. Krishnaswami says that Subramania Iyer, when asked about it, is supposed to have replied half in jest, "How can a carnatic musician prefix such a name!"

Long running stories

Almost from the time it was begun, the blackbuck (Antilope cervicapra) has been the logo of the Madras Naturalists' Society. It has also been the name of its quarterly journal, which has been in publication since 1983. Over the past 27 years, the journal has published articles from both the amateur nature lover to the celebrated naturalist.

Somewhere along the way, Penguin India decided that the archives of the Blackbuck were worth preserving; and so came about the anthology, "Sprint of the Blackbuck", edited by the well-known nature lover S. Theodore Baskaran. The volume was released a week ago by the former governor of West Bengal, Gopalakrishna Gandhi.

Theodore Baskaran's task must have been difficult, as can be seen from the end result: the writings vary in their level of detail and documentation, as can be expected. More importantly, he must have known every one of the contributors to the Blackbuck over all these years and it would have been difficult to explain why one of his friends has not made the final cut!

Tower lamp

The basic water tower is just a device to make sure water is distributed across a limited area using the hydrostatic pressure of water from up above. There are just a few water towers which have won prizes for design - Kuwait Towers comes to mind - or have become tourist attractions like the House in the Clouds.

Chennai's water towers have been blandly functional, with few exceptions. The water tower at Besant Nagar has some flourishes around its basic cylindrical design, but the one inside the IIT Madras campus is a little more adventurous. One look at it and you are reminded of the lamp which is the centrepiece of the institute's logo!

The Eater's Digest - 8

The concept, they say, is to "Eat as you like, pay as you feel". Such a path-breaking concept had to emerge from a non-business mind, and that's exactly where the Annalakshmi vegetarian dining experince came from. Swami Shantananda Saraswati first put this idea into operation at Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, in 1984, before bringing it to Chennai in 1986.

There are no specialized chefs, standardized recipes or secret sauces at Annalakshmi. The food is cooked - and brought to your table - mainly by volunteers who give their time to serve the hungry. When it first opened in Madras, Annalakshmi's patrons were taken aback to find senior civil servants, musicians and other well-known public figures taking their orders and bringing the dishes to their table. That's how it has been in the Annalakshmi restaurants all over the world, across Malaysia, Singapore, Australia or India. It was an experience like no other and then, to top it all, there was no bill at the end of it. Remember, the concept is to "...pay as you feel". Of course, given the philosophy and the ambience, it is quite likely one would end up paying just that little more than the 'Management' would have charged.

I have only admired it from a distance, never having the experience of dining there. Maybe it is the 'vegetarian only' menu, but more likely it is the feeling that I will embarass myself by becoming the first person to underpay at this 'Temple of Service'!

No walking

The Kapaleeshwarar temple tank is a very soothing sight in the early light of day. A sight that's tempting enough to draw the passer-by to get close to the waters and rest a while. But it is also considered a holy tank and access is therefore restricted at points other than the temple's entrance.

An unlocked gate was tempting a few tourists to try and get in, but they were observed very soon - and the gate promptly locked up!

Painted over

It was originally a relief of St. George and the Dragon. Successive coats of paint over the years have left it a mangled mass, with little of the detail visible. This one is on one of the grilles along the northern verandah of the Ripon Building, which is tucked away from the public and the VIP view.

I went across to that side, trying to find out what the design on the grille was; the same depiction along the main verandah was completely unrecognizable!

Writing instruments

A shop specializing in pens seems to be a bit of an anachronism, but Gem & Co. is merely one of the more visible such specialist shops in George Town. It has been around for over 80 years, having been established by M.C.Cunnan Chetty in the mid 1920s. In its heyday, Gem & Co. was one of the largest pen companies in south India. Name a brand, and Gem & Co. would have it in stock: Pelikan, Sheafer, Parker - all those brands were carried in pretty large quantities by Gem & Co., thanks to which they still have a large inventory of spare parts for all those pens. Also in that inventory, supposedly, is a significant lode of parts for vintage Mont Blanc pens.

Apart from all these well known brands, Gem & Co. had their in-house brand: the Gama Pen. I believe the brand still exists today, but has fallen in its cachet. Today's Gamas are plastic, steel-nibbed items, probably one very much like another and therefore lacking in individuality. But through the 1940s and '50s, when the brand was new, they had very specific sub-brands. And for its high end brands - the ones that were sold between Rs.50 and Rs.75 in those days - the nibs were made of 14-carat gold, coming with their own usage rating. A number stamped on the nib, e.g., '15', indicated the years of continuous use the nib could be put to.

As if establishing this shop were not claim enough to fame, M.C. Cunnan Chetty has another reason to be remembered by the citizens of Madras. It was he who made the original 'man missing' complaint in a 1952 case which went on to become the deliciously horrifying "Alavandar Murder Case"!

Jabulani!

The Copa Mundial is here! Watched South Africa rattle the Mexicans and it is now time for Uruguay -France.....

In the meantime, here's a picture of a couple of the local teams playing at the Jawarlal Nehru Stadium. I'm not sure who is who, but I am sure yellow shirts will win!

Late bloomers

Well, if you get to this place at around 8 am, this is what you can expect - a general feeling of boredom, with the shopkeepers not too keen to talk to you. That's because most of their work has been done long before you arrived.

The Kamaraj Flower Market is one of the three specialized wholesale markets at Koyambedu, at the city's western border. The pookadai and the Kotwal Chavadi at George Town were relocated to the bigger, better market complex here sometime in 1996, implementing a recommendation from Madras' first master plan of 1975. Of the four blocks at Koyambedu, covering nearly 60 acres, two are for the vegetable market and the balance is shared equally between the fruit and the flower markets. Assuming an even split of visitors, the flower market gets to hose about 25,000 people, most of them traders looking to strike long-term deals on flower offtakes. The bulk of the traffic in this market gets in between 3 am and 6 am, so it is no wonder that these lads are ignoring you!

Small court

With the sprawling campus of the High Court of Judicature at Madras (to give it its proper title; some parts of Chennai are still Madras!) literally around the corner from this building, few people pay attention to the processes of justice carried out here. Even within the pecking order of the subordinate courts, the Metropolitan Magistrates come pretty low down - in fact they are 17th on the list of Subordinate Courts in Chennai, coming in after the Court of Small Causes. No great legal razzle-dazzle happens here, for the Magistrates Courts deal with the minutiae - affidavits, remand orders, minor warrants and suchlike things.

Moreover, the Metropolitan Magistrates Court at George Town is the smallest collection of these magistrates in the city, with only 5 of the city's 26 MMs operating from here. And yet, this building manages to hold its own, mainly by being quite different from its neighbours on Rajaji Salai. While the buildings of the General Post Office and the State Bank of India's Main Branch are rich with architectural flourishes, this one just sits there as a regular, 3-storied, boxy structure, with just that little kink in its facade.

It still has some vanity; what I had earlier mistaken for patches of white plaster, or bits of handbills stuck to the building, are actually mosaic tiles, forming beautiful patterns, and even going as far as to sport a 'photographic negative' effect along one line on the top floor!

Myanmar market?

Will keep the history of this landmark shopping area in Chennai for another day. But even the regulars to this stretch of Rajaji Salai will find it difficult to understand why all these shutters are down - but it is a Sunday, after all.

And that's one day of the week when the bustle of Burma Bazaar is far removed. It looks like it is more appropriate to call it Myanmar Market instead, given the slow trading conditions here on a Sunday!