It is Madras Day today- the day, a settlement called Madras aka Fort St George was born more than 350 years ago, courtesy the British. Personally I do not think it is a defining moment in the city's history, but it is interesting to see the way the settlement eventually became the city, adding villages that even date back to the 4th century. It is a city that is both old and new , a city to me that is forever in transition.
Every year around this time, I am happily roaming around the streets of Madras (Chennai), the city I call home , walking with a group or solo, soaking in the ambiance and taking some random photographs .Madras to me is not just about a city or its history, the people and their culture .
It is about a place that nurtured me, gave me an identity and a sense of belonging. It is about a spirit that can never be explained but can only be felt.
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 17th 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 17thcentury 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 ChepaukPalace.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 18thcentury 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.
I visit Madras almost every month, but this trip has been rather special. Although I was around for just a handful of days during the festivities, I still managed to attend a few events . A couple of walks, talks and a great food festival with plenty of history.
The Taj Connemara, now donning the new look of Taj Vivanta added a flavor of Raj during this period by the food festival. Although I was a vegetarian, it was interesting to know about the origin of some of the dishes - The Railway Lamb Cutlet to begin with . Little did I know that the vegetarian cutlet that I relished in the Brindavan Express owed its origins to the Lamb Cutlet which was a specialty of the Railways . The names of some of these dishes of the Anglo Indian cuisine was rather fascinating. Grandma's Chicken Country Captain for instance . Being a vegetarian, I did try the main rice dishes and then contended myself with a sumptuous helping of the Caramel custard and Bread Pudding, another signature dessert of the Anglo Indian Cuisine .
Chatting with Karuna Amarnath of the Taj, I learnt a bit more about the heritage of the hotel. A choultry for instance meant an open hall with a roof near a river where travellers could spend the night.The Choultry Plain was the name given to the Headquarters of the British Army and the house that stood here near the River Cooum was called the House on the Choultry Plain. Today I was digging into some great food in this house which is now the Taj. The House on the Choultry Plain did become The Imperial Hotel in the 19th century and later on took the name of Albany and Connemara before becoming the Taj and Taj Vivanta. I was of course, extremely interested in this little bit of trivia regarding the change of name from Albany to Connemara.
The official version is that the hotel took the name of Connemara from Albany in the honour of Robert Bourke,the Baron of Connemara who was also the Governor of Madras in the 19th century.. However the story goes that Lord Connemara's many flings and affairs with women got on to the nerves of Lady Connemara who stormed out of the Government House and took refuge here in Albany . Soon, after she left, the hotel was renamed Connemara in her memory and not after her Lord. I have lived in the vicinity of this hotel and dined here for so many days and yet, it took a Madras Day Special post to hear some juicu pieces of gossip along with history.
The rest of the days were spent in some interesting talks - I attended one on the history of theatre in Madras by PC Ramakrishna of the Madras Theatre group. I went for a couple of exhibitions - one was at the City centre which had a display of some wonderful old photographs from the archives of The Hindu. I spent an afternoon walking into Armenian Church taking some photographs. I also went for acouple of heritage walks - a Wallajah special by S. Anwar, documentary film maker and another brilliant walk down Mint Street, with Sriram V , editor of Madras Musings. Both of them deserve separate posts .
I would like to thank all those who sent in guest posts for Madras day celebrations. Every post enriched my blog and I am glad to see so many people passionate about the city .
On the Madras special, journalist Vani Saraswathi paints her love and hate relationship with the city. She refuses to gush , but the journalist from Doha now wants to introduce the Madras of her youth to her daughters.
Over to her
When I was asked to do a post on Madras, I thought I would have reams to write about the only city I can truly call home. But all I have are random thoughts and memories…
Bus, STOP!
Growing up, city reference points were very much bus stop related. The DMS or AGS bus stop near home to reach school, at the Pondy Bazaar bus stop.
The Casino bus stop, to visit my friend Chris. The High Court bus stop to visit my aunt who lived on Moore Street. The Thillaiyadi bus stop to go for my FountainPlaza visit – Bhel Puri treats and accessories from Rajesh’s. LIC bus stop to go for a drink to Aavin. WCC stop to reach Alliance Francais and NIIT.
As I grew up, my repertoire of bus stops grew. I hated Pallavan Transport Corporation. I hated lecherous and desperate fellows who preyed on school kids… but I loved the bus ride and the bus stops. I rarely ever looked out of the bus as a child. I had my nose buried in a book, be it seated or standing. But at every stop I looked out – eager to reach my destination and also curious to know what new vendor has hijacked the shaded spot.
When I had the opportunity to completely abandon PTC, I did. I walked or took an auto when I could afford to, and later got myself a Kinetic Honda. About 16 years after my last bus trip, I still associate much of Madras neighbourhood to the closest bus stop.
Candid Madras
Within the city, the farthest I’ve been till I started working, was Anna Nagar (yes, it was considered quite out of the way then) and Parry’s Corner.
Once I started working, covering the crime and more regularly the civic beat, I discovered North Madras. Royapuram, Ennore High Road, Binny Mills, Perambur…Interesting areas. Areas of the ‘original’ Madras.
If you are expecting a gushing post on the city, then I am sure you will be disappointed. Because of the nature of my job, what I saw was a lot of neglect and dreariness. I had access to archive images of a beautiful gorgeous Cooum, but every day drove post what was only a large sewer line.
I saw illicit arrack being brewed, and I saw smuggled goods coming to the shoreline on the Ennore highway. I saw pot-bellied corrupt cops taking bribes in a systematic and planned manner from truck drivers. I saw the public stand by allow women to be teased, harassed and molested, because they just couldn’t care enough to muddy their culturally-superior hands.I saw very ugly sides of the city.
And when promises of Singara Chennai were made, I clung to it against my better judgement… yes, the city did get a little cleaner, and a little greener… but the people don’t change.Every year I go back, and I see total disdain for hygiene and public property.
What’s the use of flashy malls, if the stairwells are pan-stained and the parking lots reek of urine? What’s the use of flashy BMWs on the road, if the windows are lowered only to dump garbage on the road or spit out the chewing gum? What’s the use of all that education and cultural supremacy, if we can’t hold together as a city to do better by it?
I love Madras. And at the faintest slight, am capable of turning feral. But it is like every other Indian metro – incapable of keeping up with its own growth!
Rediscovering Madras
I am now discovering Madras through my older daughter – she is all of 9. She visits regularly. And she inadvertently reminds me of all that I love about the city. The experiences that make it my home, even 12 years after I left it.
The secondhand book vendors in Mylapore and outside Moore Market. She now visits those places with my mum, with a heftier pocket money than what I had, totally in love with the smell of used books.
The lending libraries around town. Cramped, tiny, badly lit, but a treasure trove. She harasses my sister to take her to the library as often as possible.
To Landmark with her periappa (nana) for the latest Percy Jackson and Amar Chitra Kathas.
To Pondy Bazaar with my mum to pick up accessories and just browse the street side kiosks.
Auto rides. Anywhere, anytime.
Marina beach.
Idli and sambar in Palimar.
I am learning to see Madras the way she sees it. A city full of attractions and opportunities.
Madras moments
So I think of the spots that I look back at with great fondness.
We have a guest post from Anuradha Shankar, blogger and traveller who blogs at " A Wandering Mind." Anu is a prolific reader and she confesses to be a voracious bookworm. Living in Mumbai, Anu's visits to Madras are rare, yet she connects very strongly to her "madrasi roots." Here she goes on a nostalgic trip around the city
Over to Anu..
When I tell people that I am a Tamilian, the most common reaction is, “Oh, you are a Madrasi!” Explaining to people that there is more to Tamilnadu, and indeed to the south, than the city of Madras, is an exercise in futility! Over the years, I have come to realize that it is the city of Madras which people associate with the south…
It was, after all, the home of the Madras Presidency, the first stronghold of the British in India, the place from where they spread to hold the entire subcontinent! No wonder it is still the name “Madras” which strikes the North Indian when he thinks of the South! My own introduction to Madras was late. I first visited the city when I was about 10 or 12. Till then, it was just a name! And the city itself – what a contrast it was, to Bombay! Huge, individual houses, with gardens all around, comparatively empty streets devoid of traffic jams (then!), the clean beach which simply went on and on, temples at every junction, the city was a surprise in every way!
Living as we did in the tiny flats in Bombay, the huge, individual houses were the major attraction of the city! This was where I saw the first coconuts growing on a tree, where I plucked flowers and pestered my mom and aunts to tie and entwine them in my tightly plaited hair! I spent most of my time outdoors, looking at the flowers and vegetables growing in the backyard, talking to the neighbours over the fence! This was where I happily wore all the pavadais (and later, davanis too) without anyone asking me what I was wearing! Indeed, my earliest memories of Madras are associated with women wearing shiny Kanjeevaram sarees, their thinning hair weighted down by the huge bunch of malli and kanakambaram flowers. I made the most of my short holidays in the city, especially with all the flowers! Looking back, I am sure I would have looked like a walking advertisement for a flower show!
However, my most treasured memories are neither of the houses, nor of the flowers – they are associated with another place in Madras, a landmark by itself – Higginbotham’s! The first time I entered the over-150 year old book store was when I was around 12 years old. A great-uncle living in madras had just learnt of my love for books, and since he was then confined to bed, he commanded my cousins to take me there and get me whatever book I chose! He couldn’t have given me a better gift!
Just walking into the shop was a thrill! In my eyes, it was nothing short of heaven! It was, after all filled with books, with ample space to walk around goggling at books of every genre and description! For someone who had only seen the name Higginbotham’s over the railway book stalls and visited tiny stores crammed with books in Bombay, the original store in Madras was a revelation! One step inside, and the huge book shelves laden with all kinds of books, the smell of paper permeating the air, the hordes of people leafing through the books seriously…. I was smitten!
The book I bought then, on my first visit is one I outgrew soon, but it is one I have treasured, for it is associated with so many wonderful memories – of the great uncle who bought it for me, of the store which kindled my love for simply browsing through shelf full of books…over the next few years, I collected more books from Higginbotham’s – most of them are still my treasured possessions and waiting for my son too grow a little more so that they can be passed on to him! At the time, the history of the store was of no interest to me. I was only interested in the books. I remember insisting on visiting the store on every trip, and getting me out of there must have been a big chore for my uncles and cousins who took me there! It was only when I grew up and wasn’t able to visit the city any more that I actually learnt about the interesting history of the store, or that it is the oldest book store in India!
I hadn’t even heard then of Abel Higginbotham, who rose from being a librarian at the Wesleyan Book Shop to owning it when the protestant missionaries running the shop decided to sell. It is his name under which the store attained glory and became a name forever to be associated with books in India. It has been years now since I walked into the shop, but my memories are as fresh as that day, so many years ago. I can only wait for my next visit to the city, so that I can take my son there! There are so many more book shops today, maybe larger and with better collections too, but the sense of history one gets there is something unique, that cannot be replicated!
As we celerate Madras Day today and the 372nd birthday of the city - its an irony to note that the city is an ideal potpourri of the young and the old. While Fort St George where it all began is just 372 years old, areas like Mylapore could probably date back to 1st century BC. This post is however dedicated to Fort St George , where it all began. A look at some of the maps and illustrations in the Fort Museum show you how the settlement evolved over the three centuries
The Fort initially took about 14 years to build and was designed as a squarish structure with canons in the corners
Towns evolved around the fort – a white town within the town and the Indian or Black Town outside its walls
In the next century, you can see more buildings around the fort. Some of the streets and monuments are seen till date as well
There was a lighthouse once above the building which now houses the Fort Museum. The St Mary’s Church for instance is one of the oldest structures in Fort St George that you can visit even today. It is said that Robert Clive got married in this church which houses several tombs and memorials. Robert Clive's house is now the office of the ASI
Today Fort St George is open to the public and on the occasion of Madras Day, there are several heritage walks held in the area. It is a pleasure to walk down the streets which still bear the original names and look around some of the structures that exist still date. The events calender is available here
On the Madras Special is a journey of Madras through architecture. Noted architect and heritage enthusiast, Sujatha Shankar shares her thoughts on Madras and its architecture down the ages.Over to her now ..
Ever so often one encounters the question “Where are you from?” Coming from a lineage of South Indian Maharashtrians who moved to Thanjavur four centuries ago, born in Trivandrum and with family in all the southern states even in days of less mobility, one would actually wonder `Where’?
Growing up and living here since early childhood, it certainly is `Madras’ that is home. Sunday morning visits to browse through rare books in Moore Market, buying craft materials with my mother in Flower Bazaar, frequent trips with my father to Georgetown and Triplicane, receiving or sending off a cousin at the Railway Station, school and home in South Madras, the annual ritual of seeing Christmas decorations at Spencers eagerly awaiting Santa Claus… each street and each building has its memories. It’s a city whose mosaic I find fascinating.
To each of us, the mere words Patnam, Madras or Chennai bring instant recall of what is etched deep in memory, of certain images in our mind with strong association to its location.
What is it that makes Chennai?
What is a city remembered by?
Is it its landscape?
Is it its people?
Is it the food?
Is it the events, streetscape or the throbbing culture?
In part, it is certainly a weave of all of these but predominantly it is the built form and architecture that form a frame of reference for the city and links people across generations through their common association with a landmark in their perception of the city, establishing a link in time like a string through the past, present and future. It is this overlay of memories that sustains our very beings.
In our everyday life, we experience the buildings and spaces in our city, however we rarely pause to observe. Like Simon & Garfunkel would say "people hearing without listening people talking without speaking,"
Most times its also people seeing without looking.
To me, the sojourn away from home to do my masters degree was an eye opener. When I returned, I saw my own city in new light & sharper focus.
In an attempt to explore this architectural wealth of our city’s heritage I’d like to share with you a short documentary film that I made titled `Madras Vision of Day’ named after city’s founder, Francis Day.It narrates the story of how the city has evolved starting out as villages, growing with trade, influenced by settlers, the British with their major imprint on indigenous concepts.
Initially the British transplanted pure colonial, Greek & European structures on Indian soil to establish supremacy, first as traders of the East India Company and later as rulers. As nationalism and unrest grew in the mid 1800s there was a transformation in architecture, where local elements were integrated into Western concepts, creating the fusion of the Indo Saracenic architecture, a political tool to make the foreign powers appear Indianised in the eyes of the masses. Then we move to the post independence era, groping with issues of planning and urban development.
Madras has grown since the film, bursting with flyovers, IT Parks, Offices, Hotels, Multiplexes & Malls. Many a flashy highrise has risen on the ashes of the last vestiges of a bygone era, increased mobility has created a demand for faster & better connections through transport & infrastructure.
With multiple modes of transport jostling for the same space, with the pace of life faster than what has been planned for, the city somewhere has become a Vision gone awry. We tend to think that it is only the job of the government, the city planners or transport planners to shape our cities.
What is it that we as citizens can do to contribute to a better Madras and take it in the right direction? Even if it’s a small piece of the entire jigsaw?
In the din & rush for everything new we must rise up to protect our heritage.Held in trust for posterity, these are resources that are non-renewable. Clearly we must act as custodians of the fragile wealth by shouldering our share of responsibility to pass it on to the future generations.
A positive step has been that Chennai has been displaying great pride in its Heritage through the Mylapore Festival, Madras Week lectures, even poetry, music, dance and film. The key is to integrate it into the normal course of life for citizens, builders, developers, industrialists and children who are the torchbearers for the Madras of the future.
An active voice and public participation has saved some of the Heritage buildings like the DGPs office and more recently Gokhale hall and Bharat Insurance building. The City craves a Heritage Act and we do need to push for it.
Not all heritage structures can be preserved if they have outlived their purpose. To breathe new life into old structures, putting an old structure to new use or `Adaptive reuse’ is as `green’ a concept as any.
Just a few examples from outside Chennai
-Butler Square, Minneapolis, an old warehouse that has been turned into an upscale shopping centre
-Quincy Market in Boston has transformed into a buzzing square
-Windsor & Eton railway station is a lively hub.
Madras has its own trailblazers
- Amethyst – an old home functioning as a boutique
- The Art Deco Ilford House which is FabIndia’s outlet
- Sri Krishna Sweets where we had the opportunity to transform a 100 year old house into a mithai shop & restaurant. The only structural intervention has been the introduction of an eleva
- The Madras Terrace house aptly named functions as a space for creative expression, talks, discussions and art shows.
When it makes economic sense, many a structure can be saved from the demolishers with a little imagination.
Aesthetics is another area where each of us can contribute when we are faced with a choice. A danger on the Chennai cityscape is the lack of harmony with the neighborhood. Many cities in Europe even today maintain a harmonious balance with development. Our own Jaisalmer or villages do the same. Old images of Madras display our value for the aesthetic. Then why do we now display a certain megalomania in the `I, Me, Myself, race and build monuments within four compound walls that have no connection to the neighborhood.
Madras despite the rapid pace of development has managed to keep some oasis of green… the Estuary, the GuindyPark, the IIT, Theosophical Society. Protecting these lung spaces for posterity is imperative for beautiful Madras.
If we pass on a Madras or Chennai to our next generation whose quality is as good if not better than we inherited, we would have done our job well.
Coming up next on the Madras special is Vijay Kumar's memories of playing cricket in Besant Nagar. Vijay, who has left Madras more than six years ago is now based in Singapore and has just managed a cricket tournament in Singapore. While most of us know about Vijay, the heritage enthusiast who authors the blog, Poetry in Stone , here is another facet to him .
Over to Vijay ..
I grew up on the shores of Besant Nagar - the best of my memories are from there. Work moved me to Singapore 6 years ago but the heart still wanders along the Catamarans and tennis ball cricket. I work in a Shipping company overseeing their operations in South east asia, and apart from temple art which is my hobby, i still play active cricket in the singapore local league second division. I also manage a team in the singapore T20 event and we were worthy runners up last weekend, being undefeated in the league stage. Kiwi Speed legend Shane Bond was our start attraction apart from former National players like Russel Arnold of Srilanka and Venkatramana of India, combining well with emerging stars of singapore cricket like Chetan, Chaminda, Abhiraj, Varun, Pramod etc. It was a great experience as we rubbed shoulders with legends like Sanath Jayasurya, Shoaib Akthar, Dirk Nannes, Imran Farhat and Alok kapali. It was great for Singapore cricket that the Man of the Tournament was a local boy Anish Param. I thank LS for giving me an opportunity to rewind and think of the glorious days under the Chennai sun
The image of Elliots beach brings with it sprawling sands, the salty spray tinged with its fishy smell from the drying nets and salted fish, as we nimbly jumped over rows of kattaramarans to fetch the ball. Cricket on the beach had its advantages and disadvantages. The lack of a proper pitch meant that you were fed on a diet of full tosses, but the flip side was you could show off your athletic skills pulling off stunning catches with acrobatic dives without scapping your knees or elbows. For the imitation Kichas ( Krish Srikkant for us) there was no threat of breaking window panes nor lost balls at sea - for the ball would float and the waves would bring it back to shore no matter how monstrous your six was. Showmen that we were, there was no dearth of audiences - we wouldn't compete with the Eden gardens but we had our own loyal pensioners and auto drivers to support. The legalities of the ill fated East Coast road, meant that we had the best of both worlds. A large tarred road with no traffic with sands on both sides and we temporarily moved further up from Elliots to the shores by the Kalakshetra compunds. The typical weekend would start with the main investments - The bat, stumps and the ball. Bats were not a problem, as the soft ball would not damage the wood, but then cricket was not restricted only to the sands. Most often the need for solid pitches meant that we would takeover main roads and that meant broken handles and eroded bats - yes, many a bat would be ground to leave just their handles ! Broken ones were mended with an assortment of nails, robber bands fashioned out of cycle tyre tubes and even the humble thread soaked in fevicol. Stumps were the easiest - three brick lines on the neighbors compound wall to start with, but then that meant there would be no Keeper and no play possible behind the stumps. Innovation drove us to the veragu thotti ( dry wood shop) in Vannathurai were we would choose the young casuarina sticks, paid by weight and an afternoon of peeling its dark outer bark to leave a shining offwhite set of stumps - 3 would do, as most often we played one side and the bowler had his ever dependable brick as his stump, with current for run out - meaning, if he has his leg on the brick and catches the ball - is akin to breaking the wickets.
The balls were the most difficult accessory, as they were consumables. The cheapest were the rubber balls - but they would hardly last, the next option being sold ` cork' balls but then that meant we would risk a more expensive tool - the bat. The best alternative was the ` Tennis' ball - hardy ones that bounce well - and even when they go bald you can play with them. The problem was that they were available only in the Tennis courts and Besant Nagar had two - one near the Main bus terminus and one near the ` oval' ground by the beach. They would ocassionally sell ` used' balls but they needed an expert eye to judge their longevity.
Most kids initiation to the game was tough - the elders, be it the young office goers in the different Bank Quarters or the rough inhabitants of the various fishermen colonies - the ritual was to be a spectator fetching balls for a season, and then be a substitute for some more seasons, before a chance housewife who had had enough of her ` young' husbands cricketing honors pulls him out last minute and you get your golden chance to be part of the team !
Once you were in, you shone with pride and your name would be utterred in reverence. Opponents would check out your skills and your name would spread - there were quite a few tradiional rivalry - the RBI Quarters team, the CPWD quarters teams etc. They had their senior teams and junior teams and the fervor would match a India Pakisthan match in Sharjah.
The options to progress to the hall of fame was to play the Cricket ball - there was only one ground in Besant Nagar those days - the Amar CC ground which has been sadly lost to make way for the Rajaji Bhavan. School teams were not that popular those days and hence club cricket was the only avenue for us to see the red cherry and white kits.
We more than made up for it with our own tennis ball tournaments and mini tournaments, the most popular being the floodlit tournaments organised by the Shastri Nagar Sharks - with teams parading an incredible ensemble of mascots from Mosquitos to Scorpions. It drove our parents mad, darkened our already mango grey ( maa Niram) but taught us the game, its spirit and kept us away from bad company and the idiot box
Come August and it is time to celebrate Madras Day and the birth of the city - the day, a small piece of a fishing hamlet was sold to the British .They went on to create the settlement Madras or Chennapattinam from that sandy stretch, built Fort St George and made it the headquarters of the East India Company. Soon many villages were added and annexed to this fishing village and the settlement Madras grew into the city as we know it today
Every year, the city gets into a festive mood in August and there is plenty of action on the streets of Madras. There are walks and talks,music and theatre , photography and documentary sessions among other events.
Backpacker and I have always been celebrating the Madras Day with gusto . In my 100th post, I wrote a detailed article on the Madras Day and the story behind it. I also featured some of my favourite monuments in the city and wrote in detail about Fort St George. However, this year, there is a slight twist to the tale.Adding to my voice are several voices who will share their stories on Madras as the month rolls by.
I will however kick start this special by a list of 30 things that I like/would like to do in Madras. I had to jog my memory a bit and with some help from folks, here is my list . Please add your wishlist as well. And if you do find people passionate about Madras ask them to tell you their stories. You dont need any scholar out here - just ask your parents , uncles or grandparents to talk and as you listen to them , a new city opens out in front of you .
My wishlist
1. Watch the fishermen play a tug of war as they pull their haul to the shore at the Marina Beach .
2. Put some kadalai. In the evening, head to Elliots and have the thengai, mangai pattani sundal . Shoot some balloons and polish some bajjis.
3. Drive on the beach road early in the morning - start from Royapuram or Ennore and drive all the way up to Besant Nagar or ECR if you like .
4.Shop in the markets or whatever is left today of them instead of your malls and supermarkets at least for a day. Walk around Ranganathan Street in T Nagar or pick up knick knacks in Purasaiwalkam or in Luz market or any local market in your area.
5.If there is one area I would like to explore , it will have to be Triplicane . Walk around the old book stores, get lost in the narrow roads, visit temples, eat in Ratna Cafe, look at the architecture around, gaze at some of the domes , see the remains of the old Nawabi culture around Wallajah and the agraharams in the area.
6.Go to an old temple in the neighbourhood and listen to the " harikatha" stories . If you have the opportunity, do catch villupaatu if possible.
7.Know anyone in the harbour ? Catch hold of them and visit the Outer arm , where the last mile of the land protrudes into the sea. If that is not possible, ask someone to take you to the place where the Royal Yacht Club was first located. It has been taken over by the Indian Sailing Association .Learn sailing from them and also ask them to show you the wall, which is still a testimony to the bombardment of Madras during the wars. The city was bombed by Emden the German cruiser during World War 1
8. Climb up St Thomas Mount . Drive up if you can
9.Lose yourself in the campus of IIT Madras. You may even find some black bucks if you are lucky.
10. Listen to a kucheri or a classical music concert in the neighbourhood parks
11. A stopover at Kalakshetra if you can for any dance performance
12. Go to Santhome's Church and visit the basement and the little chapel
13. Walk in Theosophical Society in Adyar over the weekend . You may need permission otherwise
14. Go for a tree walk. There are organisations in the neighbourhood that arranges for them
15. Visit any three temples in the city - mine would be Gangadeshwar temple, Kapaleshwar temple and Parthasarthy temple
16. Eat . Must visit Karpagam mess , Grand sweets and I would have said Woodlands Drive in - Pity, it is not there anymore
17.Walk around the small lanes of Parry's corner. Look around Burma Bazaar, the Mint street and many other small streets in that area
18.Must go to Armenian Church , the only church left here that tells you something about the Armenian community that lived here centuries ago
19. Spend a day at Fort Museum in Fort St George. Walk over to St Mary's Church, the oldest church from the British days and ask them to show you the register when Robert Clive got married
20. Take a ride on MRTS or the Hop on Hop off Bus if you havent so far
21.Watch a Rajinikanth or a Dhanush movie in a regular theatre and whistle away .
22.See if you can manage a pass to any of the studios in Kodambakkam or Vadapalani - catch a film shooting ; believe me, its great fun
23. Visit one of the oldest lighthouses in Madras High Court premises .You may not be allowed to photograph though
24.Chepauk - not just for cricket , but see the palace built in Indo Sarcenic style. Do visit the University while you are still in the area.
25. Visit Connemara Library in the Museum premise and read or at least pretend to read. While you are at the museum, try and watch a play and visit the Bronze Gallery . These are must dos.
26.Must visit Broken Bridge for sunset. Catch up on some birding, if you like in the area .
27.Road side sandwiches in front of Alsa Mall. Now, this is something that i havent missed out from my school days
28.Icecream parlours - would have loved to say Jafars and Dasaprakash, but in their absence will settle for Snowfield.
29.Guindy Park and Snake Park - Back to my childhood, but I can lose myself here. If you have the time, plan a visit to Crocodile Park
30.Want to experience a bit of the saree mania ? Go to Panagal Park and bug the shopkeepers to show you every saree of your fancy at Nallis, Kumarans, RMKV ,Chennai silks, Sundari...Window shop till they drop.
31.There is so much to contemporary Madras too -coffee shops to lounge bars, exclusive boutiques to premium malls, Mediterranean to Mexican fare, fusion concerts to international film festivals, art shows to contemporary dance - you will never run out of choices here
The settlement called Madras is very young as it celebrates its 371st birthday today. This settlement slowly grew over the 300 odd years adding villages , older than itself to its boundaries, growing into the metropolis that we know today. Nestled in South India and often dubbed conservative by those who are yet to experience the multi dimension spirit of the city, the story of Madras , the settlement started with Fort St George. Probably it started even earlier , 371 years ago on this day when the Britishers leased a piece of fishing hamlet and converted into their southern headquarters. Ive dedicated an entire post last year to the birth of this city, but today, I would like to celebrate by speaking about the oldest surviving monument in the Fort complex - the St Mary's Church on Church Street.
Built in 1680 , this is where apparently Robert Clive got married. You can ask to see the marriage register at the Fort Museum. Clive's house , which was called Admirality House today houses the office of the ASI, but coming back to the church - this is probably one of the oldest Protestant churches in Madras. Designed by a gunner, built through local subscriptions, there are several tombstones and memorials here - of missionaries, governors and former officials and their families
A statue of General Conway, known as the soldier's friend stands here , as he was known to improve conditions in the army.The organ , which is the fifth to be installed dates back to 1894 and is still played during service.The altar plate is said to donated by Elihu Yale, Governor of Fort St George and who later founded the Yale University in 1687 , but the most interesting aspect is a painting by an unknown painter. The painting is a replica of Raphael's Last Supper , which is now in the Vatican. The British apparently brought the painting from Pondicherry in 1761 .
As the sun streams in from the garden, you sit here for a while and imagine the days of colonialism, the era of Black and White towns , of Armenians, French and British ruling over the country .
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