Studying development?

If you have ever had questions about how the patterns of rural-to-urban migration have evolved over the years, this is one place you could probably look to for answers. The Madras Institute of Development Studies (MIDS) was founded in 1971 by Dr Malcolm S. Adiseshiah after his retirement as a Deputy Director-General of the UNESCO. The work that he turned out was impressive enough for the government of India to think about making it an institute of national importance. Accordingly, in 1977, MIDS was taken over by the government (both centre and state governments collaborate in its administration now).

Even though its work continues to provide significant inputs to the development agendas of governments at various levels - remember, it does have a national brief - the main body of the MIDS continues to operate in these premises. It was Dr Adiseshiah's house, which the MIDS trust turned over to the government - and it appears to be pretty much the same way it was when it was taken over!

End point

This pier is just outside and parallel to the eastern boundary of the Bharati Dock. It juts out a long way to the northeast, and helps to form a channel through which ships enter and leave the Port of Chennai. This basically means that you cannot sail a ship in a straight line from Port Blair to enter the Port of Chennai; even though the course of that shipping route is a straight line, your ship will have to turn to the north and then make a U-turn to get into the city's harbour.

The light at this end of the pier is named after the eighth Viceroy of India, Lord Dufferin. Did he contribute to the extension of the port in any way? I don't have an answer to that, but I hope that someone will be able to come up with an explanation of why and how it came to be called the Dufferin Light. The only other nautical connection that I have been able to find is that the first dedicated training ship in India for marine engineering was the RMIS Dufferin! 

The things you find

Of course there was curiosity. But no luck in identifying whose it was, for the passport was missing a few pages and there was no information on any of the other pages. 

Quiet pond

Tucked away at a corner of the Chennai port is a little waterbody called the Timber Pond. It does not berth any of the ships coming in to the Chennai port, but it serves as the parking spot for private yachts as well as the port tugs. 

The Royal Madras Yacht Club has its office at the edge of the Timber Pond. First time sailors are let out into the Pond, where traffic is limited and, should the hull capsize, rescue can be quick. The kids in the picture are both out on their first sail all by themselves. They did topple out a couple of times, but kept their heads above water and right the hull. It all seemed so commonplace, that it was difficult to believe they had fallen off into some 40-foot deep waterbody!

Old marker

This stone tells of a tree being planted to mark the centenary of a building’s foundation. That’s a nice, ‘green’ marker, and it tells you that being green is not a new fad. This tree was planted by Lady Willingdon, the then governor’s wife. That should give you some indication of how long ago it was done.

That tree is itself now nearly a century old. Planted in 1923, it was part of the centenary celebrations at St Mathias Church, in Vepery. More of the church itself later!

Mixed up?

Once upon a time, the name of this street was a little longer. But with the government deciding that caste names and titles should not be publicly acknowledged, the original name of Kalavai Chetty Street was shortened. And in doing so, they anonymised one of Madras' prominent merchants, Kalavai Chetty. Some of his business partners, who were dubashes of the British East India Company, are remembered - with their full titles - in street names of George Town.

Kalavai Chetty was quite prosperous and lived north of Fort St George. His business dealings took up a lot of time and he was unable to visit the Kachhapeeswarar temple in Kanchipuram as often as he would have liked to. His solution was simple: build a temple in Madras itself. That he did, giving over a part of his lands on what is today Armenian Road. It may not have hurt him much, because at his peak, the leases he held included Tiruvottiyur, Tondiarpet, Vyasarpadi, Purasaiwakkam, Egmore and Nungambakkam. 

The settlement of Chintadripet, where this street is located, was a little after his heyday, although he must still have been around. Maybe he gave up a part of his holdings here for the settlement to come up, and hence a street with his name came up here rather than in George Town. How nice it would have been to have retained his anglicised name, Colloway Chetty, in this street - when the Chetty dropped, that would have got us all mixed up!

Waiting to fall

It must have been a lovely residence in its time, but it is now a bhoot-bangla. Set back from the road, it would be missed by almost everyone walking past. All along Ritherdon Road, the buildings, even old ones appeared to be quite well maintained, so this one came as a surprise. Managed to get this one picture before the watchman there insisted we go away.

Surprisingly, there are several buildings like this one. Left to ruin because there are several claimants to the property, litigating over it. Wonder if any of the neighbourhood kids use this to play in… or is that too dangerous?

Inside, looking out

Was ‘security’ in business complexes always this bad? Of course they used to ask you about why you were coming in, who is it you had to meet, and all of those questions, but it was still a human process. As an employee in one of those complexes – or factories – you had a friendly equation with the security folks, but with the implicit understanding that if you tried funny stuff, he wasn’t going to be your friend.

But the people working in this building on the OMR tell me that the guards make no attempt at being friendly. Even if the same guard has seen you for the past five years, s/he will still have a few questions to ask, and they are not about the weather or your haircut.

Well, maybe they are doing their job, but it makes you feel that you have accomplished something heroic!

Looking up

Well, it is Gandhi Jayanthi. And there are still many who look up to the Mahatma.

Details, details

The Khalas Mahal was once the palace of the Nawab of Arcot, and it has now been taken over by the government to house some of its offices. With that, many parts of the Mahal are now out of bounds, with even the employees not accessing them at all.

This balcony is one such. It was originally built with a lot of flourish, with a fair amount of detail in the wood-work, as well as in the three marble mosaics immediately below it. Unfortunately, not many people who visit these offices have time to look at these details, for they would be dreading other kinds of details the officers might demand of them!

It is the theme day at City Daily Photo and the theme for today is 'Details'. More details at the CDPB Theme Day page

Mouth of a river

You may have seen the mouth of the Cooum earlier and remember that as a fairly straight-forward affair. The river runs in through the city and empties out into the Bay of Bengal near the northern end of the Marina Beach. On the other hand, the Adayar river splits off into the Adayar Creek, a marshland ecosystem, before merging with the sea. The mouth of the river is therefore less well defined as that of the Cooum and for that reason, it is all the more interesting. 

This view from the Government Music College shows a part of the mouth - the river Adayar appears to narrow down a bit as it passes into the Bay in the distance!

Toys

It was probably too early in the day for the children to be out. And we weren't buying any of those colourful toys that this man was carrying around. The choice was tempting: Spiderman and Mickey Mouse masks, multicoloured toy windmills and those vuvuzela-like contraptions that are guaranteed to give a kid a great time.

But no, we weren't buying any. You will have to wait for the children to arrive, toy-man!

Grand ruin

Once upon a time, this was part of a palace, where lived Khairunnisa Begum, the widow of the last Nawab of the Carnatic, Ghulam Ghouse Khan Bahadur Azam. After her time, the building was given over to a school that was begun by her husband's ancestors and, since her husband had thrown it open to the public at large, is now known by his poetic name as the Madrasa-I-Azam.

When he set it up in 1761, Nawab Muhammed Ali Wallajah intended it for the education of the children of the royal family. His successor, Nawab Umdat-ul-Umrah, opened it up to provide education for children of other nobles as well as the officers of his armies. In the last days of the Nawab-dom, the agent to the Nawabs convinced Ghulam Ghouse Khan to open up the Madrasa to the public at large. The date on the top of this building refers to the time the Madrasa 'went public' in the mid-nineteenth century. The school moved to this building, the Umdah Bagh, in 1909. 

The school was handed over to the government sometime after that. Even during the 1970s, the school was sought after, because it taught Urdu, Arabic and Persian. But it went into decline a little after. The school functions from other buildings on the grounds of the Umdah Bagh, but this one is all gone; a hand-lettered sign on the wall cautions visitors against entering the shell!

To see a photo from earlier times, take a look at this.

Wheels on wheels

There was a time when these machines were a standard fixture in every house. Mostly they were there as a standby; it was not as if all dresses were home-tailored. They would be used to shorten the elder brother's trousers for the younger, or to let out the waist as the boy expanded. Serious clothes, like those for festivals, were always handed over to the professionals - who would deliver them the night before, after endless haranguing over the delay.

The tailors continue to run their business, even if their clientele has changed a bit. But the home machines are probably less used these days, which is probably why this pay-per-stitch service is popular in some parts of the city.

Diving in

A honey-bee dives right into its plate, at Kalakshetra. Is that pollen stuck on its leg?

Shop off

The Ispahani Centre, on Nungambakkam High Road, is certainly more modern than its (somewhat) namesake in George Town. But for all that, the history of Ispahanis in Madras continues to remain a mystery - at least for me!

Hogwarts?

Makes your head spin, does it? Looking up at these stairs inside Clive House, you do get a tinge of vertigo. The stairs are to one side of the great hall on the first floor of the building and take you to different levels, up, down and sideways. 

The Great Hall inside Clive House is not much to look at, for it is just that - a big hall. It is when you think about the debates and the arguments that may have taken place there that you realize its significance in shaping the dominion of India. Though originally owned by Shawmier Sultan, an Armenian merchant, the Admiralty House was taken over by the East India Company in 1755. The Great Hall was used not only for meetings but also for banquets and balls. During one of the wars, when St Mary's Church served as a granary, the Great Hall was used for conducting services.

Most of the rooms leading off, and adjacent to the Hall are locked up today. You can troop up and down these stairs, but the only door that you can pass through is the one below that lets you out of the building!

New rates

The new auto-rickshaw fares have had people buzzing on the social media. Most of Chennai's residents have possibly never have had the experience of paying a standardized fare, having had to pay whatever was demanded - or to feel good at having negotiated a rate Rs.10 less than that.

The extent of the fleecing has become obvious with the introduction of the revised fare tables. From the numbers being reported, people have been paying a premium of anything between 30% to 40% over the current rates. All the auto-rickshaws are to have the revised meters fitted in before October 15; since September 15, they are expected to charge by distance, in line with the official rate cards which have been issued to each individual auto. 

No card, no fare. That's the intent. With so much of potential saving, folks should insist on paying by the card. Yes, fuel prices may have increased after these cards were issued. But the impact of those increases on these rates is marginal. So, no misplaced sympathy for the auto-rickshaw drivers. The moment people start showing such 'understanding and sympathy', we will go back to the earlier anarchy!

Patchwork

The new terminal at the Chennai airport has a whole lot of can-be-better items, discussion about each of which can go on for several pages. Maybe because those items relate to the more functional aspects of the terminal, there seems to have been very little said about the aesthetics of such pieces of art around the airport.

Most pieces are quite tolerable; this one of a horse is quite an intricate work. It has over 200 separate pieces that have been put together. Each of the pieces has quite a bit of detailed work on it and it certainly must have been done with a lot of passion. The finished product may not be to everyone's liking, but little can be faulted with the effort that has gone into it.

In the manner of most of the city's public installations (remember the flame and the women?), these pieces also have no descriptions. Shouldn't there be some recognition of the artist and highlights of the work itself? What do you think?

Golden man

Maybe 'Golden Boy' would be more appropriate, considering his background. Chennai has several statues of movie heroes, most of them in public spaces. This one however seems to have been installed by converting a corner of the property he occupied in Mehta Nagar, off Nelson Manickam Road.

You are right, that is Shobhan Babu's statue. In a career across four decades, from 1965 to 1996, he acted in about 120 films. In a majority of them, he played the lone lead hero - and popular lore has it that in almost every one of those films, he romanced more than one heroine. That may not be entirely true, but it certainly burnished his reputation as a glamourous star and kept the producers happy. Shobhan Babu is the only second actor - after Dilip Kumar - to have won three consecutive Filmfare awards for best actor, so there must have been something more to him than just the stardust.

The statue catches your eye, not only because it is at a busy intersection. Trying to recall the other 'golden' statues that I have seen only brings two others to mind - Jagjivan Ram's at Ezhilagam and Sivaji Ganesan's on the Marina. But neither of them is topped off with the black hair that keeps Shobhan Babu's glamour intact!