Going down, going up

Subway: It was originally a way for pedestrians to get across to the other side of the road, but is now the term for any passage that goes below another. 

The Americans prefer to use underpass - their 'subway' being either the underground train systems, or the sandwich chain!

Onward

A stride that is familiar around the world. 

It is the 68th anniversary of his passing away, a "Martyrs' Day". I believe India has several of those - honouring the many who gave their lives to the cause of India's freedom. 

Part of the ceremonies on this day was to have the entire country pause for two minutes at 11 am, in memory of this man, and to the cause he served. I am not sure how many even remembered the significance of this date!

Multi-religious

Just outside the gate of the erstwhile Madras Mint - now the Government Press - is this shrine of sorts. The autorickshaw drivers from the stand nearby must be the ones taking care of it. Fresh flowers,  an awning to keep the rain out... and maybe a box for collecting the donations. If you click on the picture you will see that the iconography covers Christian, Muslim and Hindu symbols. 

Such syncretism is much required in these times... maybe the clock under the awning could be synchronised as well!

Palace of sorts

Quick, tell me the name of any royal dynasty that had its seat in Madras? You may find it difficult, and that is all right, because Madras was never a royal capital. But with its importance as the seat of administration during the British era, there were several royals who picked up property in the city and maintained a kind of 'camp-palace' here. There was also the Nawab of Arcot, who had moved entirely to Madras, but by that time, he was tightly controlled by the British, so he could never be counted as having ruled Madras. 

The Nawab's residence was however the one that was called a 'Palace' - the Chepauk Palace, with its Khalsa Mahal and Humayun Mahal. The other royal residences went by more prosaic names, like Cochin House. The Travancore royals stayed at Ramalayam in Adyar - though it was called the Travancore Palace, I don't think that name was ever used formally.

But the only Palace Road that existed in Madras was in Santhome. That was thanks to the camp residence of the Wodeyars of Mysore. In keeping with their allegiance to Chamundi Devi, this residence was known as Chamundeswari Bagh. It wasn't very grand, from what I understand, and yet, the road leading to it came to be called the Palace Road. Today, Chamundeswari Bagh houses the Russian Consulate, having passed through the hands of AMM Murugappa Chettiar, who acquired it from the Wodeyars along the way. Palace Road has subsequently become Papanasam Sivan Salai - and there's a story in its own right there!

Recharged

The rains have been quite patchy this year; cyclone Vardah was an anomaly, one that gave the city more wind than water. The threat of the city going dry within a few weeks, if not days, appears very real. There was a bit of cloud today, and promise of showers over the weekend. If that happens, it would be a Godsend.

You might take a look at the Kapaleeswarar temple tank and wonder what the fuss is all about. If there is so much water here, the ground water levels must be pretty good - that sounds logical. But this tank has been nurtured carefully - in the early 2000s, when rainwater harvesting was made mandatory, the tank was re-done with a little bit of thought. The normally sandy bed of the tank was laid over with a foot-and-a-half of clayey soil, which has helped in retaining the water much better.

If you click on the picture and blow it up, you will notice that the lower steps of the mandapam are bare. We can probably breath a bit easier when they get covered up with water!

Republic day

Sixty-seven years ago, it was on this day that India formally declared itself to be a republic, with the constitution that had been adopted exactly two months before coming into force. The choice of this date is significant; between 1930, when the Indian National Congress 'officially' promulgated India's independence and 1947, when the country was actually granted independence (and Dominion status), January 26 was celebrated as Purna Swaraj Divas. With the Constitution of India coming into effect in 1950, the monarch of Britain ceased to be the Head of State and that power transferred to the President of India. That structure is replicated in each state of the Union of India. Part VI of the Constitution deals with the States, with Article 153 creating the position of Governor and Article 154 invests in him the executive power of the State, with a Council of Ministers to "aid and advise" the Governor. The position is something of an anomaly in that the people of the state have little say in who their Governor should be; a person is appointed to hold that post at the pleasure of the President of India. 

Tamil Nadu has been without a full-time Governor since August 31, 2016; the Governor of Maharashtra holds this position as an additional charge. It is not the first time this has happened, but on both the earlier occasions, it was the Governor of Andhra Pradesh who also played the role of Tamil Nadu's Governor. The first such was when Krishan Kant took charge for 55 days and the next was C. Rangarajan, who had a longer stint of six-and-a-half months. On neither occasion, however, did Tamil Nadu have to deviate from the practice of the Governor taking the salute at the State's Republic Day parade - it came very close to that in 1997, but Krishan Kant handed over charge to Fatima Beevi on January 25, ensuring that protocol was intact. This year has been the first time in Tamil Nadu that the Chief Minister takes the salute. 

What does all this have to do with the picture for the day? Not much, really. Except that I had seen two former Governors of West Bengal at The Hindu's LitForLife a few days ago; that got me thinking about why there has been such tardiness at finding a Governor for Tamil Nadu. Not that I have any answers for it, of course!

One way to enter

Some of the street names in the city sound downright ridiculous. Why would there be a Lake View Road in West Mambalam, or a Tank Bund Road in Nungambakkam, when there is no sight of any waterbody from either of these streets? Ah, you will say, but there was one, once. And you are correct. The Long Tank was filled in during the early years of the 20th century. In fact, some remnants of it existed until the 1960s (if not into the 1970s), so that is somewhat recent memory. 

But what about taxes on walls or gates for elephants? The story of the wall is quite easily told. Madras - which in the latter half of the 18th century meant the expanse to the north and a bit to the west of Fort St George - was coveted by forces who actively hassled the British, chief of who were the French, and Tipu Sultan of Mysore. To provide a measure of protection to the city, the British decided to build a wall around the city. The northern sector went off well enough, but the Company's plan to levy a tax on the citizens to pay for the western stretch ran into opposition and so the wall remained unfinished on that side. 

It is all very well to build a wall to try and keep people out, but there will always be a need to get in, too. Madras had such needs at seven places; one such, along the western wall, was called Elephant Gate. It is tempting to assume that this was a grand entrance through which caparisoned pachyderms lumbered in procession into the city, walking down the Elephant Gate Road; and that was what I had done. But Love's "Vestiges of Old Madras" indicates that this gate led to an Elephant Garden - now, what could that have been for?

Royal college

Imagine it is sometime in the first decade of the 20th century. You are in your newly acquired motor-car (let us say it is registered as MC-2), driving eastward on the Edward Elliot's Road, taking the left turn at the Marina (the name Kamarajar Salai is a few decades away) on your way to the Fort St George. On your right, the lovely Bay of Bengal bringing back memories of Palermo; on the left - well, there is not much to see on the left. On the turn is the house that was built many years ago by Col. Francis Capper - and now a hotel owned by a native, who calls it Capper's House; after that, a few more houses - Beach House, belonging to Justice S. Subramania Iyer, Pentland House, Stone House and Jeypore House - before you catch sight of the Chepauk Palace.

Fast forward to the mid-1920s. You can still catch glimpses of those houses, but you are surprised to learn they are no longer residences. You are told that in 1914, the Government had taken over Capper's House to establish the city's first college for ladies - the Women's College - guided by the Founder-Principal Miss Dorothy de la Hey, admitting 37 ladies in its first batch which began in July 1914. Miss de la Hey, in the early days of her tenure (which lasted until 1936) ensured the college would have enough space for expansion by acquiring all the neighbouring houses - it would have helped that the college had taken on the name of Queen Mary in 1917.

Fast forward to the first years of the 21st century. The State Government has declared that the Queen Mary's College is to be relocated, the buildings demolished, and a new Secretariat complex is to be built there. Mass protests from Chennai's citizens and alumni of the QMC ensure that the Government backtracks. Much later, the buildings are accorded heritage status - but not before most of them have been degraded so badly that they are unsafe for occupation. Capper's House had actually crumbled. The new building that came up to replace it was named Kalaingar Maligai, now shortened as Kalai Maligai. There was some attempt to have elements of the colonial bungalow replicated in the design of the new building, but I am sure the dome on that building was inspired by a Buddhist stupa rather than Queen Mary's tiara!

Room for worship

When the British - Andrew Cogan and Francis Day - set up the 'factory' on the site where Fort St George stands today, catechisms and prayer books were very far from their thoughts. The Portuguese merchants, further south near Mylapore, already had their San Thome. When some of those merchants moved to the new settlement, they needed a place for their worship. The British allowed them to build their own church, St Andrew's, which has disappeared over the decades. 

Later, the British built their own church, St. Mary's, which continues to be in use today as the 'oldest Anglican church east of the Suez'. There are records of a Church Street, which is supposed to run from just outside St. Mary's to the fort's southern glacis. Maybe that was the road taken by the residents in the fort - the merchants and their families - to access the church. 

Most of the buildings on Church Street are in disrepair today. But among the ones that still stand, is this one with a sign over the door saying "St Marys Church Room"!

Bird unseen

I have this old chestnut for the day of the Chennai Bird Race, when I go back to give in my log sheet to the volunteers manning the desks. I tell them that my team saw a few ostriches, and they start, because they haven't heard of the Post Graduate Research Institute in Animal Sciences at Kattupakkam, about 17 km from Tambaram. 

This year, I did not use that, mainly because my team did not see any of these ostriches. We did go to the PGRIAS, but we were intent on improving our bird count and so did not spend any time going over to watch the ostriches at their research area. Of course, the Bird Races do not accept any sighting of captive birds, so the ostriches were never going to add any heft to the count.

So, the picture here is from a few weeks ago. Without spending time on the ostriches, our team managed to top the 100-species mark for the first time this year!

Eat like a bird

Tomorrow is the 10th edition of the Chennai Bird Race. About 50 teams, of 4 members each, have registered for the race. The idea is to spend the whole day, from 6am to 6pm, birding in and around Chennai - the boundaries are not very sharply defined, but broadly, it stretches from Pulicat in the north to Vedanthangal in the south. It is not necessary to cover the entire stretch; you can choose to stick to just a couple of spots within the city as well. The main thing is to spot as many of the 260-odd bird species of Chennai as you can.

The teams had to collect their log books today. The teams have to come in and sign up, pick up their log books, meet fellow birders and get into the excitement of tomorrow. What better place to do it than this restaurant - Spoonbill - on TTK Road.

It helps that the person who runs this is a member of the MNS - and she will also be participating in the bird race tomorrow!

Protest

All roads leading to and from the Marina Beach were packed with all kinds of traffic. Including a whole lot of pedestrian traffic, all of who were either going to protest, or protesting on their way back.

For the past two days, the protests have continued. The protesters have been at it, without any visible central leadership, or organizing body. Their demand is simple. Un-ban jallikattu, that macho sport of bull-taming, which the Supreme Court of India had banned in 2014. The regional and national political parties have been unsuccessful in convincing the Court to overturn the ban, and have not followed up on seasonal promises to protect the sport through legislation. Hence, the protesters do not want any politician to be seen with them, or to even occupy common ground at the protests.

And those protests have been happening at various places around the city - especially where youth gather: the IT corridor, colleges (and to a much lesser extent, schools), and of course the Marina. Did I say "around the city"? It is around the whole state, and their simple demand is right here, on the back of this autorickshaw!

Lionsgate

Going east on Kutchery Road, you might be surprised by a pair of lions sitting atop gate posts. They may have appeared regal at some time, but now they are crowded out by overgrown peepul shrubs, to the extent that the name on the gate post is part obscured. If you get close, you can make out that the name of the manse is Farhat Bagh. 

The twin of this gate post carries the name of its owner: V. Ramadas. It also announces his qualifications: B.A., B.L. If that does not convince you, he has added his professional title: Vakil. That title broadly applies to any lawyer, but Vemavarapu Ramdas Pantulu was a specialist in realty and land rights. He also dabbled in politics, and was one of the featured speakers at the 'First Andhra Conference' in 1913. In the Second Conference the next year, the Farhat Bagh vakil seconded a resolution to carve out the Telugu-speaking areas of the Madras Presidency into a separate province. In that he foreshadowed the Madras Manade movement; he seems to have faded out of politics after that, but reappears as a leading light of the cooperative movement, holding office as President of Indian Co-operative Banks Association between 1927 and 1944. In 1935, he also became the Founding Editor of the Indian Cooperative Review. 

He had given over his library and a "...part of home in Mylapore..." to the Institute of Co-operative Research and Service to continue his work. Whether that home was Farhat Bagh, or some other, is a question I am unable to answer right now. There were no signs to indicate any cooperation happening there; but maybe it is just that I cannot recognize those signs!

Wedding hall

Passing this building, one would think it was a house. In some kind of jumbled fashion, it seems to have started as a residence for one family, to which appendages were built when a branch of the family needed their space. 

But no. Chhajer Bhavan on Avvai Shanmugham Salai is just one more of the marriage halls of Chennai. This set of buildings has over 20 rooms and according to the Chhajers, can accommodate 70 people. But the more surprising thing about it is the claim that the main hall has space for over 500 people to sit. 

Must try and get inside soon to find out how the claustrophobia is taken off one's shoulders!

Small shop, big deity

According to mythology, Lord Parasurama had to behead his mother on his father's command. Though she was brought back to life immediately after that, the severed head gave rise to the iconography of the representation of Shakti as Renuka. 

In keeping with that tradition, the temple of Renuka Parameshwari depicts the main deity as only the head. There is however, the full-bodied version as well, and also the icons of Kasi Visalakshi along with her consort. 

This temple does not go back very far in history; most accounts talk of it as being just a couple of centuries old. During that period, it has acquired a name that it is more commonly known by - Chinnakadai Mariamman - that I was surprised to find it has more formal name!

Narrow outlook

Yes. That is truly how Kutchery Lane opens into the North Mada Street of the Kapaleeswarar Temple. But as one gets out from this narrowest of lanes, all it takes to get into the temple is to cross the street. That small gopuram is over a door to the temple's administrative office. That door does not open for you or me, it is quite possibly an entrance for only the most privileged of the temple's staff and/or devotees.

For a long while, that was the entrance through with the temple's designated devadasi, would enter the temple. She was an integral part of the temple's rituals, and was accorded a high status in the temple's hierarchy. But over the years, the position of the devadasi was stigmatised, and there were likely enough people within the temple administration who were politicking to cut the devadasis down to size.

It was not just at this temple; all over the Madras Presidency and across India, the desire to abolish the devadasi system led to the passage of legislation such as the Madras Devadasis (Prevention of Dedication) Act in 1947. With that law in their hands, the puritan faction of the temple administrators walked out through the office door, into the Kutchery Lane, to the ex-officio residence of the last of Kapaleeswar devadasis and unceremoniously threw her out into the street. And so ended a tradition, one that gave much of today's Bharatanatyam dance, in obscurity and penury. Would it have been any different had the passage been much broader?

Old boys

It took almost two centuries for this "old-boys' club" to come up. The survey school that began in 1794 grew to become the College of Engineering, Guindy, of today. It was only in 1993, however, that some of the alumni decided that they needed a club that is both exclusive and global. Global, because the earliest alumni were not the natives, and also because over time, the native alumni have gone on to be stars around the world.

Exclusive because it is meant for the alumni of the core colleges of the Anna University - the CoEG, of course, as also the Alagappa Chettiar College of Technology, Madras Institute of Technology and the School of Architecture and Planning. That may sound like a lot of institutions, but it must be remembered that the Anna University has over a hundred colleges under it. 

The Alumni Club - it does not have to specify what the alumni are of - has the facilities you would expect of any such club: meeting rooms, auditoria, restaurants, library, sports facilities. All of this spread out over a complex on the southern bank of the river Adyar, accessed only through the posh Boat Club area. But hey, an institution whose alumni have gone on to be social reformers, politicians (in India and other countries), cricketers, movie stars should get to do a bit of posh once in a while!

Book wall

The Hindu's "LitForLife 2017" kicked off today at the Sir Mutha Venkata Subba Rao Concert Hall. It was quite a full house today, with Dr. Shashi Tharoor on stage; after his session, a large chunk of the crowd followed him outside, to the author pavilion where he was signing copies of his latest book. 

On the way back after getting the autograph, spotted this book wall. Couldn't help thinking it would have been better with people - kids, especially - standing up close and reading these. And then, we saw that there were spaces at the Hall where you could sit down and read, and in fact, swap books for the day. 

That's nice - look forward to being back there tomorrow!

Tables

Sometimes, when you get in early for a weekend movie at the Madras Race Club, you get a wide range of seating options. 

Although, with the way these tables are oriented vis-a-vis the screen, at least one person at each table must decide the movie is not worth watching. Maybe there is an opportunity here to design a movie-watching-on-club-lawn table!

Monk in the city

Like many other great personages, this man shed his mortal coils before he turned forty. Born this day in 1863, Vivekananda took "Hinduism" to the centre stage at the Parliament of the World's Religions in Chicago in 1893. It took Vivekananda nearly four years after that speech to return to his native land; he arrived at Colombo on January 15, 1897 and then, traversing the route from Pamban to Madras, arriving in the city on January 20. Though he lectured at Colombo and several other stops on the way, Madras was the focus of this return trip.

The place that he stayed in was then known as Castle Kernan, or alternately the Ice House. It was not meant to be a residence, but then, it was spacious, on the Marina, and could accommodate the hundreds of visitors who wanted to meet this monk seemed to have strengthened their belief in themselves. The Madras Reception Committee said, in its welcome address, "...we come to offer you the love of our hearts and to give expression to our feeling of thankfulness for the services which you, by the grace of God, have been able to render to the great cause of Truth by proclaiming India's ancient and lofty religious ideals." So tumultuous was that reception that Vivekananda's words could not be heard by many of the nearly 10,000 strong crowd that attended. Their consolation was that they could look forward to a few more opportunities to listen to him over the next few days in their city. 

Vivekananda stayed in Madras for nine days. The enthusiasm which he generated was reason enough for an enterprising publisher from the city to put together a volume of his lectures. And somewhere in those lectures, he exhorted the young men of the city to build their strength, for a life of religiosity needed a strong body. He said, "First of all, our young men must be strong. Religion will come afterwards. Be strong, my young friends; that is my advice to you. You will be nearer to Heaven through football than through the study of the Gita." Wonder which of those approaches have gained popularity now!