Devaraja Mudali Street in George Town packs in a vast variety of merchandise, and some unusual history to boot
The mid-day sun is merciless, footpath non-existent and, to top it all, a mega traffic jam is hooting in the middle. That is Devaraja Mudali Street (off Evening Bazaar) on a working day. But overlook these irritants (try!) and plough through the 500-metre distance to where it meets NSC Bose Road to discover its true worth: DM Street trades in some of the most colourful merchandise in Park Town, and is home to one of the most heart-warming stories of the early British era.
Shopping here is fun. I ask Dhandapani, whose shop rather breathlesslyManufactures Indian Human Hair Exporter Specialist in Gents/Ladies Wigs Wholesale Dealers of Drama Wigs and Ladies/Gents Design Buns, Hair pieces Chauri Hair, where he gets his goods from. “Wherever mottai is done!” he returns. For 30 years, he has been peddling hair — real (washed/cleaned/combed) and synthetic — to numerous hair-seekers. “Original is expensive — 200-a-foot, has five-year guarantee, synthetic 85/ft (one-year only),” he tells a customer who needs a chauri.
Down its length, DM Street’s closely-packed shops buy and sell glass of all kinds, plywood, picture-frames, hardware, sanitary fittings, watches — “from everywhere,” according to Kotilingam (78) whose picture-framing outlet has marked 50 years in business. DM Street connects two major thoroughfares; its twin temples attract crowds. I walk past dour-faced men who won’t let me photograph their shops and weary labourers on their unloading trips to reach the all-things-pooja row of shops.
“This is VM Subramanyan Chettiar shop of 52 years,” smiles the handsome third-generation scion who sits surrounded by colours and fragrances from bales of thali-thread, cones of turmeric, kumkum, boxes of namakkatti, sandalwood, joss-sticks and sambrani. “Want to offer anything at the temples?”
I had overshot it. Mounds of dirt and demented parking now effectively block the entrance. To much relief, a long corridor of woodcraft shops keeps the interior cool. Before crossing into the praharam, I look up right and on a faded blue board, find divine history. The board, put up by the Chenna Malleeswarar/Chenna Kesava Perumal Devasthanam, names Guhasri Rasapthi as the writer: The temple precinct is in the middle of the city, at Park Town, it says, and gives proof of age. The translation: “Some 300 years ago, during the East India Company rule under Sir Pigot, an ancient temple in what was called Chenna Kesavapuram on the seashore to the south of High Court was broken up and rebuilt in 1762 by philanthropist (vallal) Muthukrishna Mudaliar (Kottai Iyya), elder grandfather of the present manager (Dharmakarthar) of the temple.” Inside, a flexi-board propped on the pillars of the main mandapam elaborates the narrative and says, “these were known as Pattanam and Flower Bazaar temples.”
I get an accurate version from historian Varadarajan: the temple is mentioned in Beri Thimannan’s 1648 records, he says. In 1673, Dr. Fryer had called it Madras Pagoda where town meetings were held. Governor Pitt’s map of 1709 confirms its presence at the High Court premises. It withstood the 1750 French invasion but was pulled down by the British in 1759 and the bricks/stones were used to build Fort St. George’s northern wall. In 1762, the East India Company offered a compensation of 565.5 pagodas to the local Hindus who had started an agitation. Governor Pigot stepped out to calm nerves, allotted 23,944 sq.ft of land (equal to the temple area) on Jengu Ramaiyya Street (DM Street now). The twin temples came up on this site. The twin-temple construction, done in the late Vijayanagar/Nayak style, started in 1766, got over in 1780 on a total expenditure of 15,652 pagodas. Records tell us that Pigot was present at the Kumbabhishekam. They quickly became popular venues for discourses, kutcheris and non-political events. And till evacuation in 1914, tulasi thirtham from the temple was carried to the High Court for witnesses to take their truth oath on. Today, devotees leave locks on the doors of Narasimha sannadhi for blessings, families get young men and women to meet in front of Sengamalavallithayar for match-making. The Siva-Vishnu temples have stood side-by-side as symbols of caste/creed/sectarian amity for centuries.
“Mr. Pigot was a good man,” agreed Executive Officer Yuvaraj, who has brought out an updated version of temple history (Rs.60). “May be the figures of violinists and angels you see on the roof of the Bramarambikai sannadhi were carved in appreciation of an Englishman who respected the sentiments of the people he ruled.”
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus / Celebrating George Town / by Geeta Padmanabhan / Chennai – August 22nd, 2014