Meet Mysore artist Venkatesh

It is a busy day and the crowds are milling towards the palace in the royal city of Mysore. I take a detour and enter a quiet part of the city which is wrapped in an afternoon siesta. A light breeze awakens the spirit as I wander around looking for people with a royal connect. A chance conversation with a friend , Vinay from Royal Mysore Walks takes me to the doorstep of an artist , Venkatesh whose nostalgic memories lead us through a fascinating journey as he shares snippets and stories from the lives of his ancestors.
The leafy environments greet me the moment I step into the lane where Venkatesh lives. Tall trees create a canopy as the detour ends into a dead-end. Plump and ripe, the “chakotas” are dangling from the branches of the tree, waiting to be plucked. Venkatesh smiles and ushers us in , while his sister is waiting for us with a cup of tea.

I look around and see in the dim afternoon light . The walls are filled with paintings and sculptures taking you into a different era. A Raja Ravi Varma painting hangs on the wall, but as you look inside, you see a Mysore painting of Krishna dancing on the snake Kalinga . A painting of the deity, Lakshmi Narasimha graces the walls , while the Goddess Saraswati sits gracefully on the other side.
Amidst the medley of Gods and Goddesses are several weapons , that dates back to the Vijaynagar empire . Venkatesh explains that his ancestors who came from those regions were employed in different positions in the royal palace – some of them served as surveyors, while others were personal body guards of the kings.
He tells us that they were referred to as “ Girle Meesai Sepoy” and they looked ferocious with thick curled moustaches that used to spread to their ears. As personal body guards of Maharaja Krishnaraja Wodeyar 111, they could walk around barefoot anywhere in the palace and were given the task of protecting the queen. “They wore their turbans or petas ‘round’ , “ explains Venkatesh , adding that they were of a ‘betelnut colour’ and were tied using a fabric that was like an eight metre saree .

Venkatesh’s fascination with the turbans started at a very young age and he learnt the art of tying them from his father . “ Every community or nobility, in fact anyone who had to go to the aramane (palace) had to wear a turban and each of them had its own style . The width of the zari in the peta was based on the grade of the nobility and the person employed in the palace,” adds Venkatesh . Although his family did not look at this as a profession, most people who visited the palace stopped by at their house to get their turbans styled. “ We used to tie them for people during weddings and functions and I styled the bommais (dolls) for Dussehra, especially the ‘pathadu bommais,’ “ he adds, referring to the wooden dolls, also called as Marapachi bommai.
Venkatesh ‘s pride however are the miniatures that he has created – the throne of the Wodeyars, the Ambaari (howdah) that is carried during the procession and a model of the present Wodeyar himself . Wrapped in golden paper after being carved in clay and cardboard, he uses other materials like golden foil and even wires to hold these miniatures together.
The man is a storehouse of stories. He can talk in ease about every style of turban – be it the kings of the Vijaynagar era to the Marathas to the Mysore Maharajas. He then drapes a turban around his head and mentions that it is slightly tilted to a side, as it is believed to be dressed on the lines of Krishna, who is followed by his community , Gollars. He then suddenly breaks into hymns and talks about how the kings of those eras protected their subjects and even their thrones symbolised the same. He narrates an incident when his great grandfather’s grandfather , who was a surveyor at the palace, requested the king to change a line in his prayer. “ My father told me this story . The king used to pray, “let my enemies be vanquished,” But my ancestor asked him to pray “ Let my enemies become friends .”

We sip more tea and listen to more stories and the conversation moves on towards his current life. Venkatesh who learnt Mysore style of painting at a young age from the erstwhile curator of the palace ekes his livelihood through painting and by teaching the art to several students . He takes us through his technique as he tells us that he has painted on every surface – from wood, to glass, to fabric, to aluminium and even on walls . The colours are prepared naturally at home and he uses natural and vegetable dyes to create them . “ The panchabhootham colours are the main and then I create more colours such as ivory black which is charred cotton mixed with gum. “ he adds. The style is also very distinct with delicate lines and brushstrokes that differentiate it from the parent Vijaynagar style of painting. And then he elaborates on the gesso work, which refers to the gold relief work on the embossed painting.
We see a variety of paintings that he has created- from miniatures to paintings decorating the wall. He recalls with fondness the painting of Govardhana giri that he gave to present Wodeyar king during the Dasamana utsav. His house is a veritable art gallery, but Venkatesh is lost, living in his own world of colours and stones .
This story was published in Spectrum, Deccan Herald last week.

Stories around Lepakshi

 

A massive Bala Ganesha greet you as you enter. The deities Shiva and Vishnu face each other, while in the centre is Veerabhadra. I walk around and the Natyamantapa lures me . This is where the Gods make music .Brahma is on the cymbal, Narada on the tampura, and Shiva in his Nataraja avatar amongst other heavenly artists. Mesmerising us with their instruments, costumes and ornaments, they seem to create divine melodies .The sun’s rays touch the large sculptures in the unfinished Kalyanamantapa of the temple.

I am in this small village ,Lepakshi near Hindupur in Anantpur District looking at some of the rare mural paintings from Vijaynagar era that adorn this ancient 16^th century Veerabhadra temple. It is a late Saturday afternoon and surprisingly, there are no tourists. A large joint family has just walked in and the children have discovered their playground amidst the pillars. The sun plays hide and seek too and it looks like it will soon disappear amidst the clouds.

I sit beside one of the pillars and take in the scene. Unlike any tourist spot, there are no vendors or shops that besiege the tourist here. A guide offers his services and looking at his rather hopeful face, I decide not to disappoint him. And he plays rather to the gallery as the kids stop their games and listen to him as well.

“Le pakshi said Lord Rama to Jatayu, the bird asking it to get up ,” says the guide a bit dramatically narrating the episode from Ramayana .”Ravana had chopped off its wings and Lord Rama found the bird fallen right here in this village. Thats why its called Lepakshi. See this sculpture here..There are more stories,” his voice trails off.

The temple built in the Vijaynagar style has an inscription that says it was built by one Virupanna whose family deity was Veerabhadra. The temple ,renowned for the largest monolith Nandi stands a few metres away from the main temple complex- a testimony to the building skills of our ancient artisans. It is carved out of a single rock and towers to 20 feet high and is 30 feet long. A multi hooded Naga Linga stand opposite the Nandi in the main shrine . A group of children pose for a happy family photograph as I walk towards it.

Stories, myths and local lore resonate from almost every wall here . For instance the hill on which the temple is built is called Kurmasaila as it resembles a tortoise. The giant multihooded Naga Linga was said to have constructed out of a single boulder in such speed ; apparently even before the cook had finished cooking for the workers. But a crack soon appeared in the boulder that it looks like the sculpture is split in the middle, towards its base. “ The sculptor’s mother was so taken in by her son’s work that she praised him, but her words only caused an evil eye and the crack appeared ,” says the guide , as I smile at the superstitious beliefs . The guide moves on to more legends. The unfinished Kalayanamandapam was built where Shiva and Parvati were believed to have got married. A large carved foot on the ground filled with water perennially is said to be Sita’s foot. “ It is also said its Goddess Durga ‘s foot when she visited here ,” says the guide. He shows me the carved thali like plates on the ground.” The locals were fed here,” he says . It looks more like giant palettes to me .

Tales of devotion are depicted on the bass reliefs or on the murals that adorn the temple. Some of the finest specimens of Vijaynagar dynasty, the panels bring the Puranas alive as various forms of Shiva vie for attention. My guide narrates these stories of devotion etched and painted on the walls. There is Shiva as a mendicant testing the devotion of Sriyala and his parents by asking them to kill their only son and feed him. Pleased by their devotion, he restores their dead son back to them .Another mural depicts a just king , Manuchola who grants justice to a cow at the cost of his son’s life.

While the panels, the sculptures and the paintings narrate stories from the Puranas and the epics, the heart wrenching story of two red marks on the walls of the shrine tell a sad tale. Virupanna,a merchant and treasurer of the Vijaynagar emperor , Achutadevaraya decided to build a temple here when he found a sculpture of Veerabhadra here . He used the money from the treasury for the same when the king was away. The temple was almost completed , except for the kalyanamandapam ,when the king returned to find his treasury empty and the temple built without his permission. He ordered that Virupanna be blinded , but the merchant decided to punish himself by banging against the wall near the Kalyanamandapa .The two red marks are said to be his blood stains when the merchant gorged his own eyes out. The village is said to be called Lepa –akshi , meaning a village of the blinded eye. The melancholy is a bit addictive, then the beauty of the pillars take you away from the tragedy, the silence is mesmerising and the solitude seductive. “ You can still see Virupanna’s ghost here.. the eyes bleed..” the guide’s voice trails, but I am lost in the world of myths and epics.

This article was published in Yahoo.com recently and an abridged version in my column, Inside Story in The Hindu.

Five places to visit in Naanjil Naadu

 
Ringed in by oceans and mountains , my journey took me to the erstwhile land called Naanjil Naadu that has been sung about from the days of Sangam era. Today, the region is identified as a part of Kanyakumari and Nagercoil districts, where God’s own country, Kerala first had its origins. Scattered with temples, forts, rock cut caves, palaces with paintings, inscriptions and carvings – there are monuments left behind by these rulers as souvenirs of their reign.



The INTACH tour organised by Tamil Nadu chapter took us to towns and villages, to deserted lakes and forts, to the banks of small rivulets, up a hillock, into dense forests to look for the remnants of the many dynasties that ruled Naanjil Naadu .The Ay rulers from Sangam era reigned here till the 9th century . Early Pandyas had built monuments that led us towards Tirunelveli. The Cholas had left their stamp here ,and the Venad rulers who were the founders of modern day Travancore state ruled from Padmanabhapuram palace here. However everything is not just about heritage. Steeped in cults, we learnt about both facts and folklore, while I got lost in the landscape painted in front of me - natural, social, political, historical, spiritual. While we visited several obscure and nondescript towns and deciphered several inscriptions with the help of our expert guide, Dr V Vedachalam, retired senior epigraphist from Tamil Nadu State Archaeology Department, these are the five places in Naanjil Naadu that I would like to visit again.


1. Chithraal

Angels and celestial beings apparently hovered around this hillock and hence it is referred to as Thirucharanattumalai . I would believe this as this is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. The scene is virtually breathtaking. The sky is clear, the floating clouds touch the distant peaks of mountains, the greenery is refreshing and the breeze comes calling. An abode of Jaina monks, Dr Vedachalam explains to us that “charanathar “according to Jainism refers to those celestial beings who fly in the skies and are seen in places of worship or living spaces which could be mounds or mountains too.



The rocks are carved with bass relief sculptures depicting Thirthankaras and yakshis that date to the 9^th-10^th centuries. There is the serene Mahaveera, the snake hooded Parshvanatha along with Neminatha, the yakshis - Padmavathy and Ambika, also known as Dharmadevi looking out into the open. Right atop the cave is a small structural temple dedicated to Bhagavathy deity. Sitting beside the rock, I look out for angels as hillocks surround us in the distant horizon with pools of water reflecting the colours of nature.

2.Thirunandikarai

Deep inside a dense rubber plantation, a stream flows besides an ancient Shiva temple . There is not a soul in sight. If you squint through the woods, a path takes you down to a rock cut cave temple with empty cells. The temples are located in Thirunandikarai, which gets its name from the stream, erstwhile a river called Nandiaaru.

While the Shiva temple built in the 10^th century resembled the architecture style of Kerala monuments, the rock cut cave temple was probably built around the 7^th century was probably a Jaina monument. As the birds sing to the dawn, we walk up to the cave temple and see traces of early paintings on the walls. Inscriptions here refer to Vikramaditya Varaguna of the Ay dynasty and even to Raja Raja Chola, who had celebrated his birthday here. The lush greenery, the birds, the sun streaming through the woods, the silence – Thirunandikarai takes you to a different world, one of peace and beauty.

3.Padmanabhapuram palace

The origins of the present day Kerala begins here as this was where the Travancore state was born. Built in the 1600 by the ruler, Iravi Varma, the palace is located inside a fortress with the backdrop of the Western Ghats around it. The moment you step inside the palace, you enter a world as old as 400 years old. Even the 300 year old clock tower shows you the time. Made of jackfruit wood and a combination of granite, coconut shells, egg white , the palace takes you into the King’s Council Chambers, the Mother’s Palace, the Performance Hall among several other chambers. Pillars made of jackfruit wood, galleries of paintings, brass lamps and wooden sculptures, a wooden cot with more than 60 pieces of tree trunks all give it an unique Kerala stamp. It is believed that the ruler Marthanda Varma dedicated his kingdom to his family deity Padmanabha and Padmanabhapuram lost its significance when the capital was eventually shifted from here to Trivandrum in the 18^th century .


 

4.Vattakottai

This is my all time favourite . I am standing at Vattakottai, a circular sea port and am encircled by the sea with the mountains at the backdrop. Built in the 18^th century by the Travancore kings, the fort was apparently constructed by a Dutch Naval officer De Lannoy who was initially with the Dutch East India Company but eventually became the commander of the Travancore army. The symbols of two elephants and a conch shell stand silently in this picturesque fort which hardly looks like imposing. And as many fort lores say, a tunnel was apparently built here too, but it is now closed. But as you gaze at the blue waters with the low hanging clouds and the waves retreating from the shores, one cannot imagine this was once a battlefield.


5.Parthivapuram

An idyllic little village with an idyllic little temple, Parthivapuram or Parthivasekarapuram seems like just another Indian hamlet, but for the fact that it goes back to the 9^th century . One of the oldest places we visited, the Vishnu temple in Parthivapuram was built by one of the oldest dynasties who have ruled right from the Sangam era – the Ay Dynasty . King Karunandadakkan . Dr Vedachalam gives us a very interesting insight into this village. A copper plate found here informed us that there was once a vedic school here in the 9^th century. The Ay rulers had clearly mentioned details regarding the education system, the basis of selection, discipline related issues and even a code of conduct for the students. As we sit in the portals of the temple, listening to stories, we are literally transported to a different era.

This was published in Yahoo recently .  You can read more stories on Naanjil Naadu here. A story on Thirunandikarai was published in my column, Inside Story in The Hindu Metro Plus

A tour of Naanjil Naadu

There is a certain fascination, a sense of a timeless journey, an anticipation of a discovery when you look at a map. Pouring over the colourful piece of paper that marked countless villages and towns, I stood there ,imagining the contours of the map changing while we took a journey down history. We were looking at a map of the present day Nagercoil and Kanyakumari districts in Tamil Nadu, but the stories took us to the times when parts of the region was referred to as Naanjil Naadu.

Ruled by various rulers from the Sangam Age to Travancore kings , with a bit of influence from the Cholas, to early Pandyas, this region had the reign of the Ay rulers, the Venad kings and had also seen battles fought between the Cheras and the Pandyas. Ringed in by oceans and mountains, the locale is scattered with  temples, forts, rock cut caves, palaces with paintings, inscriptions and carvings - monuments left behind by these rulers as souvenirs of their reign. God’s own country found its origins here, long before , Kerala the state was formed. Steeped in cults, we learnt about both facts and folklore, while I got lost in the landscape painted in front of me - natural, social, political, historical, spiritual.

We travelled to towns and villages, to deserted lakes and lush fields, to the banks of small rivulets, up a hillock, into dense forests to look for the remnants of the many dynasties that ruled Naanjil Naadu.The Ay rulers who had reigned for a long period from Sangam era to even 9th century had  left their stamp here. Temples such as Parthivasekarpuram are testimony of their workmanship. Early Pandyas had built monuments that led us towards Tirunelveli. The Venad rulers who were the founders of modern day Travancore state ruled from Padmanabhapuram palace here.

Our guide and expert, Dr V Vedachalam, Retired Senior Epigraphist from Tamil Nadu State Archaelogy Department told us that one of the earliest references to Naanjil Naadu dated back to a song sung by the legendary poetess Avvayar in the Sangam era . The song was in praise of the generosity of a Naanjil Valluvan, a tale of how the Vallavan had sent an elephant loaded with sacks of rice to people who had asked him for a small quantity of rice.

The landscape of the present merged with the past as we heard snippets of legends and history woven together . We stopped by the monuments to step into the milieu of the those times. One of our earliest stops was to Suseendram, where the temple was amidst a flurry of festivities.Dedicated to the trinity - Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, the shrine was also thronged by devotees who worshipped Hanuman, an 18 feet tall diety. Dr Vedachalam however took us around the temple to show us some nondescript rocks tucked away behind the shrine. As we crowded around him, we saw various inscriptions  that dated back to the Chola and Pandya periods. We then climbed up the dingy dark tiers of the Gopuram, disturbing the bats residing there to see some of the most colourful paintings lost in the darkness here. Deities and mortals found expression in rich tapestry of colours as the walls were painted by the artists of a bygone era, only to be vandalised by locals.

Naanjil Naadu tour for me was not just about a dynasty or a religion. The influences were varied, as Dr Vedachalam explained that most of the monuments had altered as beliefs and cults changed over the passage of time.   We were at the Nagaraja temple at Nagercoil when we learnt of the cults relating to Jaina yakshis and snake worship and how they had been woven together and transformed over a period of time.  Jainism had been prevalent here in ancient periods and several Jaina sites tucked away in hillocks  took us back to the era.

As we climb a small hillock called Chitharal near Kanyakumari,  Dr Vedachalam explained to us that the site was known as  Thirucharanattumalai in the ancient times. “Jains believe that this is the abode of the monks who had lived in the natural caves here. In fact “charanathar “according to Jainism refers to those celestial beings who fly in the skies and are seen in places of worship which could be mounds or mountains, sometimes inside towns and living spaces too,” he said.

Atop the hillock, the rocks were carved with bass relief sculptures depicting Thirthankaras and yakshis. There was the serene Mahaveera, the snake hooded Parshvanatha along with Neminatha, the yakshis - Padmavathy and Ambika, also known as Dharmadevi looking out into the open. Hillocks surrounded us in the distant horizon as we saw pools of water reflecting the colours of nature.

Dr Vedachalam said that the sculptures dated back to the 9th-10th centuries as inscriptions referred to the patronage of the AY dynasty ruler, Vikramaditya Varaguna who reigned around the period. More inscriptions written in “Vattaezhuthu “ (one of the oldest Tamil scripts) referred to monks and nuns who had lived here .

Right atop the cave was a small structural temple dedicated to Bhagavathy. Dr Vedachalam said that it was earlier a Jaina temple as the yakshi cult gave way to the Bhagavathy cult over the passage of time. A later 19th century inscription in Malayalam belonging to the Travancore king Moolam Thirunal Maharaja referred to the shrine here.

Our journey took us into fields and plantations. We were inside a dense rubber plantation, watered by a small stream called Nandiaaru . Watching the morning sun streaming through the trees and listening to the call of the birds, we were in the village of Thirunandikarai, which literally translated to the banks of the River Nandi, bordering Kerala. We stumbled upon a Shiva temple that resembled most monuments built in the architecture typical of the state. The sanctum was circular in this 10th century shrine , which had a few inscriptions that dated to the period.

However, nestled behind the temple, a path led us through the dense plantations to a rock cut cave temple, probably a Jaina monument that dated to 7th century or even older. The frescos painted on the walls of the caves had completely faded ,though some of the outlines still existed, leaving us to guess the images.  An inscription mentioned that an 8th century monk called Veeranandi had stayed here and spread Jainism in the region.

Dr Vedachalam told us that an 11th century inscription relating to Raja Raja Chola was found here and it indicated that the monarch had celebrated his birthday here and had defeated Muttom . Inscriptions relating to Vikramaditya Varaguna of the AY dynasty were found here as well.

Our journey took us to more temples such as Tiruvattaru, more rock cut caves as in Rettai Pothal, palaces like Padmanabhapuram, forts like Vattakottai , reservoirs like Veeranarayanam and finally we ended up inside the jungles  of Western Ghats to visit Nambiyaaru , a temple located uphill close to Thirukkurangudi shrine. We had travelled across the districts - Nagercoil, Kanyakumari, Tirunelveli and even to villages close to Kerala border. We climbed hillocks, went on the sea shore,  crossed rivers, drove though the mountains and forests to revisit the Naanjil Naadu of those days. We had probably travelled back to the Sangam era in just three days as we travelled down the historic and spiritual route.

This story was published in Sunday Herald recently. Coming up soon is Five places that you must visit in Naanjil Naadu, an article published in Yahoo. For more Naanjil Naadu posts on backpacker, read here.

The boats and boat builders of Chellanam

Xavier doesn’t remember when he made his first boat . He says he was probably a teenager when he learnt the craft  from his father more than four decades ago  .“ In those days, every family in Chellanam used to make boats “ he reminisces , looking wistfully into the small canal that borders his house and flows along the village. Small wooden boats float aimlessly in the waters, tossed by the winds. But Xavier’s Kerala has changed over the many decades. Now there are just a handful of people eking a livelihood through this small scale industry in Chellanam, a small hamlet located close to Kochi.

Synonymous with boats and backwaters, no picture post card from this part of the country is ever complete without the quintessential portrait of the fisherman in the backwaters . These country boats or vanjis have been the lifeline of the locals living here. Kids going to school, vegetable vendors selling their fares on the boats, fishermen with their nets , almost every house had a boat .” It is not the same anymore, “ says Xavier.” Only fishermen come to us these days, most villagers have left for towns, hardly anyone needs them anymore , “ he adds . Xavier makes about four to five boats a month and manages to earn  just a few thousands from them .

A parakeet screeches close by as bright orchids light up his shed. Planks of wood, coir threads are scattered around unfinished  structures of boats  .  Only one of them is almost ready and is waiting to be polished with “ fish ghee” which keeps it water proof. The remaining small boats are in various stages of completion.

 Xavier explains that an average boat is about 12 feet long  with a width of three feet and he shows me the hull . Planks of local wood called Aanjili” or Artocarpus hirsutus are tied together with coir and coconut fibre , which are stuffed in between to prevent water from coming inside. He says that the boat would take about a month to be ready .

 

A few houses away from his shed is John’s unit which specializes in making large boats based on orders .There are more hands here as John proudly shows his biggest boat, a 40 feet long with a width of nine feet . Nestling inside is a very tiny boat.” Just a showpiece, do you like it , I can sell it for Rs 3000,” he says.  I politely decline as John explains that the bigger boat will fetch him two and a half lakhs, but the costs he says are fairly expensive.

Elsewhere John’s grandchild is wailing, as his daughter distracts the child by showing him around the unit. “ It is our family tradition and we will continue to make boats ,” sums up John as his grandson picks up a small plank.  As we drive past Chellanam, a group of kids wave out to us while  they sail away on their boats.

This story was published in my column Inside Story in The Hindu.  

Eid Mubarak - The Wallajah trail in Madras

Eid Mubarak folks.It is also the beginning of the Madras Week celebrations and my thoughts go down to Chepauk down Wallajah Road. Well it has got nothing to do with cricket though. I did a heritage walk with my friend Anvar around the locality last year and wrote this story on the House of Arcot, which was published in Sunday Herald. On the occasion of Eid and Madras Day, I would like to share this story with you.

Think Carnatic and what plays in your mind is divine classical music. However besides the ragas and thalams, Carnatic also refers to the geographic region in South India, which was once a hot seat of power among various dynasties from the Mughals to the Marathas, from the British to the French and is often associated with the Nawabs of Arcot . A dynasty that started with a siege between the Mughals and the Marathas way back in the 17^th  century , it lasted for more than 200 years ,but the royal house continues till date with the present Prince, Nawab Mohammad Abdul Ali ,who keeps up the tradition till date .Arcot may have been their seat of power, but Madras or present day Chennai is where their home is.

My tryst with the royal house of Arcot started on a wet Saturday morning in Chennai when I went on a Wallajah trail , led by noted documentary film maker Kombai S. Anvar. The skies were covered with a thick layer of rain clouds waiting to drench the wind swept city. The seas were choppy and the Marinalooked vacant and washed out . As we walked towards the Chepauk palace, Anvar traced for us the history of the dynasty.

It was towards the end of the 17^thcentury and the Marathas were trying to establish their base in the South. Aurangazeb, the Mughal emperor sent Zulfikar Khan , an army general to Arcot to contain the Marathas .” The siege was supposed to get over in a few  months, but it prolonged for over six years,” said Anvar, adding, “ it is probable that Zulfikar Khan was actually in collusion with the Marathas. “ He narrated a story.

“A local chieftain ,Yachamma Nayak .wrote in fact a note to Aurangazeb saying your man was fooling you, if I was given the responsibility,I would  defeat them in a week’s time. “ The letter however was incepted and Zulfikhar Khan invited him over for a meeting without revealing his knowledge of the letter and killed him.” He made it look like an accident , by cutting off the ropes of the tent when the chieftain walked in.”  said Anvar. The story however did  not end here. Aurangazeb apparently did get to know about the incident after the siege was over and asked Zulfikar Khan to put the young successor of the chieftain on his rightful throne .

The story in many ways is the beginning of the House of Arcot . Zulfikar Khan was appointed as a Nawab of Carnatic , a title given to him by Aurangazeb and is today officially recognized as the first ruler of the dynasty . “ We still refer to the Carnatic as Arcot is yet to feature prominently on the political map then ,” added Anvar.  “Over the six years, the camp slowly developed into a town and the successors eventually made Arcot their capital.”

The dynasty grew  even as the British East India company slowly established its hold in Madras from Fort St George . The Nawabs and the British seemed to share an unlikely friendship, often mutually beneficial to each other . “ The stories go that the British used to supply expensive liquor and gifts to the Nawab Daud Khan Panni who in an inebriated state often gave away villages to the British . Sometimes he used to become sober and demand them back too,” said Anvar.

However, his successor Saadatullah Khan or Mohammad Saiyid  was a little cautious and preferred to contain the British and wanted to build a rival fort in Mylapore .I learnt that he eventually built one in Kovalam, on the outskirts of Chennai and invited several merchants ,including  Armenians and the Belgium East India company. “These were revenue states and they needed to earn money to fund wars and welfare schemes , so trade was really important.. “ Anvar explained. Saadutullah Khan also found Saidabad  which is today known as Saidapet .Even today if you walk around the area , you will find a mosque, named after him, located  right in the heart of the locality.

Anvar continued with a bit of history as we admired the Indo Sarcenic style of the Chepauk Palace.Internal feuds in the royal house took a bloody turn as the British and the French took sides in the war for succession. Robert Clive and Dupleix clashed in these Wars of Carnatic, but eventually , the British succeeded and the most important ruler of the dynasty, Mohammad Ali Wallajah, commonly known as Wallajah came to the throne .

“ Wallajah prefered to move to Madras to stay closer to the British and his wish for a palace in Fort St George was granted eventually by the local governors , but the directors in Britaindeveloped cold feet,” explained Anwar ,adding that there is still a Palace Street in Fort St George . Finally, the area around modern day Chepauk was offered to them and a palace was built for them. Even today you can see parts of the palace called Kalas Mahal and Humayan Mahal where the darbar was held .

Our next stop on the trail is the 18^thcentury mosque built by Wallajah in Triplicane in Chennai. It is the first time I am entering the premises of the mosque and I see a natural pond formed in front of it .We seemed to be completely cut off from the urban strapping and the chaos of the city as we learnt that this is the second mosque to be built in the city. The dargah of  Bahrul Uloom, a highly revered scholar invited by Wallajah to teach  in his madrasa is adjacent to the mosque . “Wallajah personally carried the palanquin of the scholar when he entered the city.”said Anwar, drawing our attention to the chronogram which is right in the centre , above the Mihrab .” Wallajah was one of the most secular Nawab. The chronogram that he selected was written by his Hindu Munshi, Makan lal Khirad. . “

The trail took us right into the heart of Mylapore , where Anvar said that the tank of Kapaleeshwar temple was gifted by the Nawabs of Arcot to the temple and even today Muslims use the tank . Wallajah himself was connected to Mylapore in many ways. Wallajah wanted to be buried in Meccan or Trichy, where another sufi saint, Nather Wali’s dargah is located.” However, he was temporarily buried in the dargah of a renowned scholar, Dastageer Sahib , in Mylapore.”

We finally landed at our last point of our trail, at Amir Mahal, the home of the present Prince of Arcot., a sprawling mansion in the heart of the city. After the death of the last Nawab in1855, the house was heavily in debts . The British eventually confiscated their palace and properties and the Nawab’s successors were moved to Shaadi Mahal. “Eventually the Crown recognized the house as Amir I Arcot or Prince of Arcot and they shifted here to Amir Mahal., “ said Anvar, adding that the current Nawab still enjoyed certain privileges such as the rank of a state cabinet minister.

The legacy of the house is still left behind in their arts, culture, secularism besides just their  monuments . The library built by the Nawabs even today stocks books that were gifted to them by the then Governors of Bengal and kings of Egypt. “ There was a time when Triplicane danced to the tunes of courtesans and a street  called Ghanabad used to be here where Hindustani music flourished. Why, there is even a story of Nawab . Saadutullah Khan and his noblemen conducting an impromptu mushaira in a church near St Thomas Mount where they wined and dined with the Armenenians, “ concluded Anvar as we headed back to the Marina beach.

Chithral - a Jaina site on a hillock

The clock strikes noon and the sun is at its peak. A group of heritage enthusiasts are climbing up a small hillock in a village called Chithral, near Kanyakumari. I trudge along with them and pause for a moment, waiting to catch my breath.  The scene is virtually breathtaking. 

The sky is clear, the floating clouds touch the distant peaks of mountains, the greenery is refreshing and the breeze comes calling. The weather gods seem to be on our side for a while as the trees create a canopy for us, sheltering us from the mid day sun. For a moment, I forget the heat and lose myself in the journey, for as always, these journeys are filled with legends and myths of cults and beliefs. 

Chithral is part of the itinerary of the Naanjil Naadu tour, organised by INTACH, Tamil Nadu, as we set out to explore heritage among caves and hillocks. Dr V Vedachalam, Retired Senior Epigraphist from Tamil Nadu State Archaeology Department explains to us that the site was known as  Thirucharanattumalai in the ancient times.

 “Jains believe that this is the abode of the monks who had lived in the natural caves here. In fact “charanathar “according to Jainism refers to those celestial beings who fly in the skies and are seen in places of worship which could be mounds or mountains, sometimes inside towns and living spaces too,” he says. 

We continue to trudge along a bit until the rocks part ways and create a narrow tunnel like approach for us. And then we see it. The rocks are carved with bass relief sculptures depicting Thirthankaras and yakshis. 

There is the serene Mahaveera, the snake hooded Parshvanatha along with Neminatha, the yakshis - Padmavathy and Ambika, also known as Dharmadevi looking out into the open. Hillocks surround us in the distant horizon as we see pools of water reflecting the colours of nature.

Dr Vedachalam says that the sculptures date back to the 9th-10th centuries as inscriptions refer to the patronage of the AY dynasty ruler, Vikramaditya Varaguna who reigned around the period. More inscriptions written in “Vattaezhuthu “ (one of the oldest Tamil scripts) refer to monks and nuns who have lived here and also speak about a well known Jaina monk Akshanandi, who was a donor and a patron. 

Right atop the cave is a small structural temple dedicated to Bhagavathy deity. Dr Vedachalam says that it was earlier a Jaina temple as the yakshi cult gave way to the Bhagavathy cult over the passage of time. A later 19th century inscription in Malayalam belonging to the Travancore king Moolam Thirunal Maharaja refers to the shrine here. 

As we sit in the cave, gazing at the sculptures, Dr Vedacahalam points to the carving of yakshi Ambika or Dharmadevi and narrates the story about her cult. “It was believed that Ambika was an ordinary housewife who was thrown out of the house by her husband as she had given away all the food to the Jaina monks. As she walked away with her children, people noticed her divine powers and started worshipping her.  

One version says that the trees flowered and gave her fruits and even a dry reservoir suddenly filled up with water, while another version mentioned that a “kalpavriksh” or a wishing tree gave her all that she desired. When her husband got to know about her “ divine powers” he came over to call her back, but she out of fear committed suicide and became a yakshi ,” says Dr Vedachalam adding that today one can always see Ambika as a yakshi with Neminatha and she is usually flanked with her children and a lion, which is her vehicle. Inscriptions in vattaezhuthu had been found here with references to the yakshi cult as well. 

We spend more than a couple of hours here, losing ourselves in a world of arts and cults, completely cut off from civilisation. For miles and miles around, the mountains and forests circle us as we wonder if the celestial “charanathars” are watching over us as we walk downhill.

This story was published in my column, Inside Story , in The Hindu Metro Plus 

Inside Story - Pondicherry beyond French India

“ Did you see those trees madam ? “ asked my driver as I looked out to see a road lined with a handful of  trees with stunted and bare branches. “ It was such a beautiful stretch, now the trees have all gone after the cyclone,” he added,” First it was the tsunami, now it’s thane .” 

I was on the road , on the outskirts of Pondicherry town, driving past a huddle of villages and fishing hamlets. It was my millionth visit to the erstwhile French territory and my first after the cyclone Thane had ravaged the town, destroying homes, resorts, streets, trees, livelihoods and plans at one go.  The villagers were yet to come to terms with the cyclone that had raged more than five months ago.

We drove towards the sea, away from the main road and arrived at a secluded beach , except that there were mounds and mounds of sands everywhere. We drove past the dunes and  saw the last mile of land jutting out into the sea.

The Bay of Bengal presented itself  - a canvas of blue surrounding us, as the sea gulls chased imaginary boats. A lone biker stopped at the edge of land’s end as we walked along and looked out into the sea . A handful  of locals were swimming . I was told that adventure and water sports was planned on the sea shore, but had been shelved after the cyclone.

As I drove past the French quarters,  I hoped to see a different perspective of Pondicherry, besides Aurobindo ashram and Auroville.  “Maybe Arikamedu ?” suggested the driver, but I told him that I had already been to the excavated site where trade relations with Romans was discovered ,way back in the first century.  We nevertheless drove towards the ruins and saw some brick walls, remnant of an old monument  , surrounded by wilderness and overgrown roots,  lending an eerie air to the atmosphere.  Cyclone Thane had left its mark here as well.

My journey resumed and  then I met fifty two year old Muthulingam, who showed me another facet to this town.  A therookoothu artist, he was engrossed in an intense performance at  the Big Beach resort, where I chanced upon him. A group of men and some men dressed as women, wearing bold make up danced around, throwing dialogues in the air. Fascinated, I watched as the performers lost themselves in a world of epics, filled with demons and demi gods.

Muthulingam told me that there were performing a play based on the Ramayana and the story veered around Bharata’s son and a demon who came from Ravana’s lineage . He narrated with gusto, breaking into a dialogue , while the other artists danced around in tacky costumes. The performances however were power packed.

Muthulingam later told me that today there were less than 50 therookoothu artists in Pondicherry. He handed his card to me and proudly proclaimed that he had been performing since he was seven . “ They put some  powder on my face  and said , go act..That was the first time I had ever played  a role. I was Sahadeva from Mahabharatha, “ he added, getting nostalgic about how his cousin got him interested in the world of plays and performances. 

Muthulingam and his troupe’s diary was blocked for the next six months. They had selected their plays based on the Ramayana and Mahabharata and the Siva Purana.  “Temples, resorts, villages – we will now go from village to village performing,” he said adding that the shows will be usually in the night and could go on for eight hours.  “ We are paid Rs 9000 a show and we would do about ten shows in a month . Sometimes a show would have even 20 players, but we share all the money ” he shrugged .

Muthulingam was a self taught artist but he lamented that there were not many takers for street theatre, even from his own family today. “ We are too cultured for our own good . No body wants to dance, yell, perform on streets, people do not even consider it art anymore,” he complained as the lights went off on the show.

The sea called .I walked along the shore, letting the waves wash away patterns on the sands . The cyclone might have affected the life of the city, but here were folk artistes trying hard not to let their art go into oblivion. “ Well tourism helps to some extent, today it’s the Big Beach Resort , tomorrow, we may be in another place , but six months later, when the season ends, we will have to  find jobs  as security guards or something else,” Muthulingam’s words echoed as the waves flowed and ebbed. 

 I was on invitation by Club Mahindra for the relaunch of their Big Beach Resort post Cyclone Thane that had ravaged Pondicherry on new years eve last year. This story was published in my column, Inside Story in The Hindu Metro Plus

Skywatch Friday - From the tip of India

I was in the southernmost tip of India , at the confluence of three oceans  - Bay of Bengal, Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean in a coastal town called Kanyakumari. And the view from one of its fishing hamlets - Chinna Muttom is here for you to soak in along with the hues of the sunset . If you are here on a full moon day, you may be lucky to see the sun set and the moon rise around the same time .

To see more exciting skies around the world , visit Skywatch.

My column on a cult worshipping a mirror aka soul was published in The Hindu. Here is the story for those who missed it

The salts of the sea lure me as I can smell it from a distance. Here, in the confluence of three oceans, lies buried several myths, legends and stories.  Kanyakumari   has always been a mystery to me. Maybe it has something to do with the sea or the tale of the virgin goddess by the sea shore, but the town has never stopped fascinating me. Looking out of the window, I am lost in the many rotating windmills, dancing to the tune of the sea breeze, when I am interrupted by the laughter in the bus. 

I join in the laughter as Sri Charanya , my travel companion shares her memories of Kanyakumari when she visited the coastal town as a twelve year old. “ You know I was told that I could see red , black and blue colours here , the red was the Indian Ocean, the blue being  the Bay of Bengal and the black , the Arabian sea  and I believed  every word of it then , “ she says as echoes of laughter drown her story. Memories come flooding back as I remember my first visit here as a wide eyed twelve year old . 

I am on a Naanjil Naadu tour organised by INTACH, travelling through small towns and villages around Nagercoil and Kanyakumari, visiting many temples, rock cut shrines, mosques, palaces and forts . While we alternate between facts and folk lore, we learn from a team of professors and historians accompanying us about the various dynasties that rule the region. I am of course fascinated by the many landscapes painted in front of me – natural, social , historical, political, spiritual , as I realize that what is today considered God’s own country has its origins right here in Naanjil Naadu, long before Kerala came into being.  

We visit an ancient Chola temple dedicated to Shiva or Guhanathaeswaran  temple as  Dr V Vedachalam, Retired Senior Epigraphist from Tamil Nadu State Archaeology Department  explains the architecture and draws our attention to the inscriptions and various cults of Gods and Goddesses.  It is really Gods own country. The temples in this region are built by various kings across different eras and each one of them has left his stamp behind. From the Ay rules, to early Pandyas to the Venad kings, the land is steeped in cults. 

And I discover another 19^thcentury cult right on the shores of a small fishing hamlet called Chinna Muttom .

While most of my travel companions are lost in the beauty around, a few of us walk down to a small shrine located on the rocky shores. A man in a turban is officiating as a priest as we gaze inside the sanctum and look at our hazy reflection with the sea forming our backdrop. There is no deity or idol – just a mirror which reflects and represents the soul or the Vishnu inside you. A small board in Tamil explains the philosophy about worshipping your body as the temple, with your mind at peace and devotion and purity in your soul.  The belief rests in equality; hence the turban says the man where every devotee is a king. Even Vivekananda he claims was influenced by it.  The underlying thought is that you keep your mind and thoughts pure and worship the God or soul inside you. 

I later learn that the cult is referred to as Ayyavazhi founded by a revolutionary called Ayya Vaikundar , also believed by his followers as a reincarnation of Vishnu. However , speaking to Ahi Mohan, coordinator of the Nadar Family Welfare centre in Trivandrum, I learn that he was  a 19^th century social reformer , who was born in Kanyakumari district with a strong belief in equality of all people. He had built five main pathis, what we refer to as temples and the 200 year pathi at Chinna Muttom was called Muthapathi.  The followers believe that a dip in the sea will sanctify them.  

I stand and gaze at my hazy reflection in the mirror for a long time and realize that my mind is blank, bathed by the ocean and purged of all thoughts. Elsewhere in the haze of white foam and fury of the waves, I can see a distant form of Sri Charanya calling out my name, holding some wet sands in her hands. As she comes closer, we both laugh. In her hands are lumps of black and brownish soil in her hands and the colours seem to merge with the blue of the ocean.