Ramu of the home

What was the last statue that you remember as being "erected by an admiring public"? Of the politicians, you would probably say. Here is one that has been around for quite a while - at least 50 years, to hazard a guess - which is not of any political leader. What the public admired in him was "A life dedicated to the cause of education, the service of the poor and the building of the "home"". The name on the pedestal says Ramu. Of course he had a more 'proper' name, but Ramu was enough for the public of the time. 

Ramu was C. Ramaswami Iyengar. Together with his cousin C. Ramanujachariar, they were "Ramu and Ramanuja", the most ardent followers of Swami Vivekananda in Madras. They were on hand to welcome him on his return to Madras in 1897 and they urged him to establish a more permanent presence in the city. And so, Swami Ramakrishnananda came over and together, they started off with a home for orphan children in Mylapore, at Kesavaperumalpuram. The home moved into its current location sometime between 1917 and 1921 and has remained there since.

From those beginnings came about several institutions; among them, Vivekananda College, Ramakrishna Mission Boys' School, Sarada Vidyalaya for Girls. Ramu was around for a while, but by 1926, he was struck with paralysis and so could not take active part in the Mission's work. However, he continued to function as the Secretary of the Home, right until his death in 1932. No wonder that the public admired him, and that they had this statue erected right outside the Home that Ramu helped establish!

Landed!

Did you know that the city is so advanced it has aircraft landing on rooftops? Here's proof from the roof of a house in Chintadripet. 

And yes, the aircraft does deliver the water for this house!

Pump it out

"A civilisation is known by the quality of its drains". I am sure it was not Florence Nightingale who said this, but she said quite a lot about sanitation in India. Particularly, she was the moving force behind Madras' efforts to get a drainage system in the second half of the 19th century. She was convinced that Lord Hobart, Governor of Madras between May 1872 and April 1875, was a victim of the city not having proper drains. In her letter of June 25, 1875 to William Clark, who was in-charge of the sanitary engineering project in Madras, she writes, "There is small doubt that Lord Hobart died of delay: i.e. in carrying out Drainage".

Despite her support, the sanitary engineering project for Madras moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. The reasons could have been many, but in 1882, a letter to Lord Ripon, then Viceroy of India, she despairs, "You ask me to tell you "as to what is doing with the sewerage and draining of Madras." I wish I could. I only know that they are doing something different from any of the plans which have been discussed." Lord Ripon had had the work kicked off in 1881, but even then it did not proceed quickly. Somehow, it seems to have all come together and the city does have a drainage system today, just in case you are wondering.

The system as it worked then was to collect all the sewage in what is today the May Day Park and pump it out to the sea, possibly through the Cooum. That sewage farm has disappeared, but a key office of Chennai's Metrowater operates from those premises. The name of that road also calls to memory a time when all of Chennai's drains would come here to be pumped out! 

Corner church

This church began its life as a campus chapel. This land, now on Radhakrishnan Salai, was part of an estate originally granted to Benjamin Sullivan in the early 1800s. After his passing away, the land was obtained by the SPG - Society for Propagation of the Gospel - in 1847 (for Rs.1,700, it is said) in 1847 and then, in 1871, a theological college was set up here. For the students' use, a room was set aside for prayers. Over time, local residents also began to use the room to an extent that they asked the SPG to build a church for them, to save them the trouble of going all the way to Santhome.

It took about four years for the building to be completed, and it was dedicated on January 25, 1899. Designed by W.N. Baakson in a Gothic style, the construction used no wood - it is claimed that this is the only such church construction in India. Before its golden jubilee, however, the church changed hands in 1947, being given over to the Church of South India, who continue to run it now.

At the dedication, it was decided to name this the Church of the Good Shepherd - a name that it continues to be known by, after 105 years, and the change of ownership!

ECR Sunrise

Going off-road from the ECR one morning, got to see this lovely sunrise. And you've got to enjoy it, too!

Which place, again?

With a name like "That Madras Place", one would expect to be greeted with a menu that had something to do with Madras. Yes, it is instinctively evident that this is not meant to be a south Indian place; Anglo-Indian dishes might have been a good start, even then. Dishes like "Chicken Madras", "Chinnamalai Pork Curry", "Kidney Toast Madras Style", going on to a "Madras Club Pudding". But no, no such luck.

Maybe the connect is to a time when Madras' finest hotel was run by a man from Messina!

Multipurpose tank

Every temple built during the middle ages has some kind of a water body attached to it. Such a water body - the temple tank - served more than an ornamental function. It is believed that these tanks also played a crucial role in the ecosystem. Storing water was key, but the way these tanks were constructed ensured that they collected the runoff water from the catchment areas. Thus, the tanks were replenished during the monsoons and, unless it was a particularly bad year, remained full of water the year round. 

A paper published in 2008 identified 39 temple tanks within Chennai. The paper was about the results of a study on how Chennai's temple tanks could be used in the rainwater harvesting efforts that are essential for Chennai's water supplies. The paper went into details about how the runoff can be predicted; apparently there is an empirical parameter called the SCN Runoff Curve Number that can be used to predict it. Combining this information with factors such as evaporation loss and water depth in the tank, an estimate was made of the size the catchment area for an urban tank needed to be. Let us just say that it is far greater than what is available to any of the city's 39 tanks.

For all that, this tank linked to the Marundeeswarar temple appears to be quite full. With narrow streets around its perimeter, this tank has kept itself reasonably clean and charged up to take on the next dry season!

Couple of questions

This was in front of the Chenna Kesava temple at Chindatripet. The elephant seems to be guarding the chariot with its colourful cylindrical cloth hangings - called தொம்பை ("thombai") in Tamizh. And no, the elephant hasn't fallen flat on its tummy, it is supposed to be doing something else.

So here are the questions: the first is What is the English word for தொம்பை ("thombai")?

The second question has been borrowed from Quizzerix - how would you connect what the elephant is doing with a happening spot in Velachery? A clue is that you need to think on the same lines as for an earlier question on this blog. And like then, if you get it right, I shall let you take me, and I promise to enjoy it. 

But if you let me have an answer to the first question, I shall take you to the Velachery connect!

Accessories

There are some accessories that do not depend on the car. Spotted this new Mercedes in a Chindatripet by-lane today. So new that not only is it yet to be registered, but the yellow ribbon with a bow-tie was still on the vehicle.

Also on the vehicle were accessories that you will not get at any car showroom. Maybe they are from a temple, but they could equally be from the grocer round the corner. Five lemons and six green chillies may not sound much, but obviously they are a must-have for a new Mercedes!

Mixed church

In 1749, under the terms of the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, the French handed Fort St George back to the British. Never again, thought the British, and made arrangements for garrisoning additional troops within the Fort, apart from clearing the settlements to its north and west.  Not stopping with these, they also tore down a Capuchin chapel within the Fort, believing that Pe Severini had conspired to help the French capture the Fort three years earlier. 

The chapel moved to a piece of land in Vepery that belonged to Coja Petrus Uscan. Uscan had a private chapel there and he turned that over to the Capuchins. However, after his death, the British ensured that the chapel and its grounds were handed over to the SPCK - the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. And the premises were used to house some of the British troops. The soldiers used the woodwork of the chapel to light their kitchen fires and, by 1821, the chapel was deemed to be beyond repair. It was then that the plans for a new church were finalized, under the guidance of John Goldingham and conditional financial support from the SPCK: the condition was that the new church would worship only according to the Rites of the Church of England. 

The foundation of the St Matthias Church was laid on December 8, 1823 and when the building was completed, it was opened to the public on June 18, 1826. It is said that atop each pinnacle on the eastern side was placed a chembu (copper vessel), with mango leaves and a coconut on top. Also, the main entrance to the church with its arch and doors is Mohammedan in design, and is flanked with elements representing plantain and mango leaves, which are considered auspicious. Maybe the builders were deliberately mixing the three major religious styles to ensure that the church did not inherit the fate of the chapel it grew from!

The veena house

The house with the green gate caught my attention because of the nameplate. At first glance it looks like any other similar indicator of who the master of the house is. But a second glance showed that the name is not just letters, but a picture as well. And that picture was of a veena inside which was written 'S. Balachandar'. With such clues, there could only be one guess about whose the house was: Sundaram Balachandar, so closely identified with the instrument that he was always Veena Balachandar. 

Unconventional would only begin to describe the man. Maybe that was inherited from his father, who cast his older children as husband and wife in Seetha Kalyanam. The young Balachandar had a part as well, as a musician in Ravana's court. And a musician he was, indeed. Starting with the kanjeera at the age of 5, he learnt a variety of instruments: tabla, mridangam, shehnai and so on, become a full fledged solo artist on the sitar before his teens. All of those faded into the background when he discovered the veena. Spurning a formal course or guru, he taught himself the veena and mastered it within a couple of years. His energy went into the veena as well as several other maverick causes that he associated himself with: trying to prove that there never had been such a ruler as Swati Tirunaal, the impossibility of inventing new ragas, insisting that the Tamil Nadu state award for dancers should be Natya Kalanidhi rather than Sangeetha Kalanidhi and many other such flavour-of-the-season follies. And then there were his movies.  Anadha Naal, which had no songs at all, Avana Ivan, and a few others, where he was scriptwriter, director, music director and any other role that he took a fancy too.

The controversies, more than his interests, drained him so much that he was called away much earlier than his equally talented, if maybe more restrained elder brother. Balachandar died in 1990, at the age of 63. Wonder what he would have made of all the current trends in Carnatic music - he would as likely have been its cheerleader as its opponent!

Posterful

Many firms use a lot of colour and decorate the community spaces of their offices with a variety of media. Was at an office with this colourful cafe recently. And the best part is that the posters are all designed and created by the firm itself!

Guardians

The only question is, what are they guarding? They loom large just inside the door of Mainland China's restaurant off Cenotaph Road. The culinary secrets of Cathay are safe with them!

Beyond the backwaters

Early morning at one of the southern backwaters of Chennai. The Kelambakkam marsh and salt pans are home to a variety of birds. We were probably not early enough to see most of them, but we did manage to get a list that included kingfishers, storks, cormorants, herons and egrets, as well as a few of those little brown jobs that are the very devil to identify. 

And no, I can't identify those buildings in the distance definitively either, but I believe they are the apartments of the Hiranandani complex. Now, don't ask me which one!

Not a memorial

It should have been, but it is not. But it is from this spot that a 25-year old Iyengar made preparations to lose his caste, trading it for a chance to do the one thing he loved. Srinivasa Ramanujan moved to this part of Triplicane, Hanumantharayan Koil Street, sometime in May 1913. He had been granted a scholarship by the University of Madras, and leave from the Madras Port Trust. All he had to do was mathematics, and to submit a quarterly report on his progress.

And progress he did. Even though correspondence between him and Prof. Hardy over at Cambridge was strained and infrequent, it was all part of a larger plan that Hardy had set in motion. By the new year, Hardy's 'agent', E.H. Neville, a young Fellow of Trinity College was in Madras for a series of lectures on differential geometry. Whether those letters were a success or not, he managed to overcome Ramanujan's apprehensions about travelling to England. 

And so it was that the morning of March 17, 1914, saw the now kudumi-less Ramanujan waiting to board the S.S. Nevasa, with a second class ticket sent by Binny & Co. To see him off were some of Madras' elite: members of the judiciary, bench and bar, professors, colleagues and officers from the Madras Port Trust and members of the press, including Kasturiranga Iyengar of The Hindu. Neither his mother nor his wife were present, having been bundled off to Kumbakonam a few days earlier. A century later, let alone a memorial, not even a memory remains. Even the plaque that was on the premises earlier has disappeared!

The Trust and the Hall

This building, on TTK Road, is so often referred to as the Narada Gana Sabha that it takes a moment for even the insiders to correct themselves: it is the Sathguru Gnanananda Hall. Narada Gana Sabha is of course the Trust which owns this hall, much the same way that Music Academy owns the TT Krishnamachari Auditorium. 

The Music Academy had also provided space for the Narada Gana Sabha in its early days. Actually not in its earliest days: for the first three years since its founding on February 9, 1958, the Narada Gana Sabha operated from 90, V.M. Street, Mylapore. It was only after that the Music Academy premises were used. From 1961 to 1988, the Music Academy was the home of the Sabha's performances. 

It was in 1988 that this Hall was inaugurated. Why it took 13 years from the laying of the foundation stone in 1975 to its opening in 1988 can only be speculated upon. But ever since, this has been the Narada Gana Sabha for the folks of Chennai!

Chugging along

An old (couple of years) photograph of the poster of a movie that is now 50 years old. Pachhai Vilakku (Green Light) with Shivaji Ganesan in the lead. Just to make sure this blog keeps chugging along with a post for today!

Backstage

We had entered through the door behind the statue and we saw this. And then, it was quite unnerving, when the priests turned around and bowed to us. Of course they did not even notice us, they had better things to do. 

Somehow it felt like we were trespassing, so we got out the same way we came in!

Green hospital

No, it is not a comment on their environmental credentials, but merely about the colour scheme of this building. Situated inside Fort St George, this serves as the Ex Military Hospital as well as the Section Hospital. The building was probably not built to serve as a hospital (does that remind of you of another such?), but has been taken over to serve as one. 

The first hospital in Fort St George was set up in 1664, thanks to two gentlemen (they must have been Company doctors) William Gyford and Jeremy Sambrooke petitioning the governor Sir Edward Winter, saying, "...we have thought it very Convenient that they might have an house on purpose for them, and people appointed to looke after them and to see that nothing comes in to them, neither of meate nor drinke, but what the Doctor alloweth", the 'they' referring to English soldiers coming to Fort St George. Sir Edward agreed with them, and the hospital was established on November 16, 1664. 

That hospital appears to have moved around inside the fort for a while, sometimes being commandeered for use as barracks, before being ordered out of the fort, into Peddanaickanpet, in 1752. That hospital grew into something else. Much later, after independence, the Indian Army took over parts of Fort St George. And they went ahead and took over this building for its current purpose. Wonder if the ex-servicemen coming here would heed the exhortation of "neither meate nor drinke"!

Name origin

One of the reasons why the city got its (earlier) name, Madras, is attributed to Portuguese origins. How true that story is, is anybody's guess; but it is a nice story to spin, and to add to the mystique around this city. In San Thome of the 16th century CE flourished the Madeiros family. At least, they came to be called Madeiros in the late 16th century, for the family name before that seems to have been spelt Madera. They seem to have been very prominent among the Portuguese of San Thome, and continued that eminence into Fort St George, with Cosmo Lourenco Madera holding a militia command for the Fort during the late 1600s. 

The Madeiros themselves trace the origin of their name back to the simple Portuguese phrase "Madre de Dios", or "Mother of God". A church of that name in the area is said to have been built in in the late 1570s. It is said that the Madera family had a hand in its beginnings and were instrumental in the church being a significant shrine. Whether from the family name or from the name of the shrine, the name Madras hauls too close to either for folks to make the connection, even if it is tenuous.

The Church of Madre de Dios was rebuilt in 1928. It doesn't look like an imposing building, but is more a single storey dhyana mandapam. Inside is this panel with the Madonna - probably the only survivor of the riches of the 16th century installation!