There’s a little known story about Sir C P Ramaswami Aiyar, corroborated by a piece of furniture. It stands plain and tall, so tall in fact that it keeps the writer on his feet and denies him the luxury of a chair. “So he wouldn’t nap,” explains Nanditha Krishna, Sir CP’s greatgranddaughter, “It had been predicted that the child, CP, would never pass an exam in his life, and it was to counter that forecast that his father had the table built.”
It continues to stand long after its prodigious student’s passing, preserved in a corner of a suite on the first floor of The Grove, CP’s house on Eldams Road. Arranged alongside are a day bed, a writing desk and a few of his personal effects. The house itself is a monument to his life — of professional ambition, political fervour and common domesticity. Built in 1885-86 by CP’s maternal and paternal grandfathers, it was erected on a plot of land that was part of an expansive property called The Baobab, after an eponymous tree. The land had belonged to John Bruce Norton, whose son Barrister Eardley Norton was one of the founders of the Indian National Congress.
Norton sold part of his property in 1875 to P Chentsal Rao Pantulu (first Registrar General of Madras), who in turn offloaded part of it to Conjeevaram Venkatasubbaiyar, CP’s maternal grandpa. He had the house built in the colonial style with a colonnaded front porch, but suitably adapted within to house the practical and cultural exigencies of south Indian living, like a ‘kalyanakoodam’, a hall reserved for marriages.
The house structurally is as it was, even though it has lately been put to alternate use — as the office of the C P Ramaswami Aiyar Foundation, lecture hall, research centre, library and art gallery. Although old rooms have found new purpose — the C P Art Centre was originally a cowshed; the Venirul Art Gallery once housed a boiler, saunas and massage rooms; the kalyanakoodam made for a convenient lecture hall; three big suites upstairs have been absorbed into the Indological Research Centre, and a bathroom is now part of the library.
The foundation has adopted a ‘use as is’ approach, fitting in modern amenities without compromising the original form and material. “I refused to put in a false ceiling in the kalyanakoodam just to accommodate a few split ACs, so I had about eight split ACs installed around the hall, kept the old ceiling fans and added a few new ones and replaced the CFLs with LEDs to keep the place from overheating…,” says Krishna, director of the foundation, walking us past Burma teak pillars, Belgian ceilings, and Venetian floors still in impeccable condition.
The foundation spends `2-3 lakh every year on maintenance. To save the couple of hundred photographs and prized art collection (including an 8-ft Roerich portrait of CP), it has sheathed the backs and sides of the frames in transparent plastic. It’s a historic house that has welcomed all rank and file of man and beast — from Ramsay MacDonald, to Mahatma Gandhi, Jinnah, Nehru, Annie Besant, Indira Gandhi and “any dog in Madras that wished to make it their house”. Political visitors apart, little else has changed.
source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Chennai / by Joeanna Rebello Fernandes , TNN / August 22nd, 2014