Consisting of 1,330 couplets, the Thirukkural is part of the Tamil sangam literature and was authored by famed poet Thiruvalluvar. (Representative image)
Chennai:
When Carnatic musician Chitravina N Ravikiran decided to set the 1,330 Thirukkural verses to tune, music just flowed through him. Notes and rhythmic structures effortlessly set themselves to suit the ancient couplets and history was made. A project that was to take 50 hours of work was miraculously finished in 16 (composing) hours, creating a world record.
The Historic Thirukkural Project, which was completed on January 14, was launched in India on Thursday at the Narada Gana Sabha by Potramarai president L Ganesan.
“The project is unique as the verses are secular, non-religious and non-regional. But the verses haven’t been brought on to a music or dance platform, except sporadically. The idea of the project is to enrich the classical repertoire by setting the couplets to tune. Also, it’s easier to remember something when it is presented in melodious tunes,” says Ravikiran, who was inspired by celebrated poet Sri Vedanta Desika who is believed to have composed over 1,000 verses overnight in praise of Lord Ranganatha.
The project was conceptualised on January 9 and Ravikiran got to work almost instantly, beginning as early as January 12, as he didn’t want to lose the momentum. Consisting of 1,330 couplets, the Thirukkural is part of the Tamil sangam literature and was authored by famed poet Thiruvalluvar.
And musically rendering one of the most revered works of Tamil language was quite challenging even for the Chitravina virtuoso.
“The couplets are unevenly sized and it was difficult to fit them in the existing talas. I had to come up with different rhythmic structures to make them fit lyrically,” says Ravikiran, explaining that he used his musical and lyrical experience to tune the verses as faithfully as possible.
The harmonious rendition of the ancient verses was launched on Thursday and is available on Ravikiran’s YouTube channel.
source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / News Home> Cities> Chennai / TNN / July 05th, 2016
The statue of the Raja of Panagal (actually Paanagal) stands inside the park in T. Nagar that is named after him. It is usually the starting point for my T. Nagar Heritage Walk. It was during one of these that I happened to meet MVS Appa Rao, one of the great grandsons of the Raja. And it was through him that I came to know that July 9 this year will mark the 150th birth anniversary of the king who became Chief Minister.
Panaganti Ramarayaningar was born into an aristocratic family of Kalahasti. A polyglot, he completed his matriculation from the Hindu High School, Triplicane, in 1886. He then did his BA at the Presidency College, Madras, and obtained his MA from the University of Madras in 1899. In between, he also acquired a BL degree from the Law College, Madras.
His life of public service began with his being selected as Member, North Arcot District Board. In 1912, he became a member of the Imperial Legislative Council in Delhi, where his debating skills and intellect came to the notice of the Viceroy, Lord Hardinge of Penshurst. In 1918, he was awarded the title of Dewan Bahadur. He was also made a member of the Imperial War Council the same year.
Back in Madras meanwhile, the non-Brahmin movement had gained momentum, with the formation of the Justice Party. Ramarayaningar joined it and was soon recognised as one of its leading lights. He was sent to England to depose before a Parliamentary Committee on the condition of the non-Brahmins in South India. In 1920, Madras Presidency saw its first democratic Government, albeit on a limited franchise. The First Minister, equivalent to today’s Chief Minister, was A. Subbarayalu Reddiar, who stepped down six months later, citing ill health.
Ramarayaningar succeeded him. His Government was returned to office in 1923, with a comfortable majority. He was given the honorific of the Raja of Panagal the same year. However, the Justice Party lost in 1926 and the Raja became the leader of the Opposition. He was knighted that year.
The Panagal administration was known for some far-reaching reforms. Reservation in Government jobs was brought in, thereby putting Madras on the route to inclusivity. The administration of temples and mutts came under a newly-formed Hindu Religious Endowments Board. A School for Indian Medicine was set up, the Raja giving his property, Hyde Park Gardens, Kilpauk, for it. The Kilpauk Medical College is now in that campus. Work also began on the laying out of Thyagaraya Nagar as a residential area.
Panagal passed away on December 16, 1928, at Madras. His statue in the park, by M.S. Nagappa, used to be relegated to a corner till a decade back, with a mutilated bust of King George V occupying centre stage. Happily, the bust has since been removed and the Raja placed in a prominent position. Unfortunately, whoever did that also gave the wonderful bronze a coat of gilt.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Metroplus> Society / by Sriram V / Chennai – July 01st, 2016
HISTORIC AND CULTURAL EDIFICE: Testing the digitised ‘Sound and Light’ show underway at King Tirumalai Naick Palace in Madurai. Photo: S. James / The Hindu
Built by an Italian architect, Madurai’s Tirumalai Naick Palace is a graceful fusion of the East and West. T. SARAVANAN investigates its past with some help from a Canadian historian, the British Library and a local archaeologist
I first notice the massive glossy columns, all linked by pointed scalloped arches. For a 17th Century Palace, Tirumalai Naick is surprisingly cosmopolitan. But then, it was built at a time when the Kingdom of Madurai had a steady stream of Portuguese, Dutch and other European visitors who came as traders and travellers. This probably explains why King Tirumalai Naick hired an Italian architect to build his palace.
Today, the impressive structure still standing is just one-fourth of the original palace, which consisted of a flurry of domes and turrets. There were arcades and open courts, all punctuated by gardens. Over the years, these were all systematically demolished or encroached upon. They also went through various phases of restoration and renovation. The British Library in London has a surprisingly comprehensive collection of old maps and documents relating to this palace, which is why Canadian Art Historian, Jennifer Howes, first headed there to piece together its past.
Howes says she was intrigued by the palace because it “serves as an architectural conduit towards the understanding of South Indian courtly architecture.” After stumbling upon a sound-and-light show during her first visit to the palace, she was determined to return as a research scholar. She finally included it in her doctoral thesis, which was later published as a book, The Courts of Pre-Colonial South India, in 2003. In it, she discusses how it is possible to reconstruct the lost and demolished part of the palace, with the help of paintings and drawings of the site available in the British Library.
I meet C. Santhalingam, retired archaeological officer and secretary of the Pandya Nadu Centre for Historical Research, to see if I can find stories the Library doesn’t tell. “Even before people encroached on the land, Chokkanatha Naick (grandson of Tirumalai Naick) brought down most of the residential building complex of the palace as part of his attempt to shift the capital to Tiruchi,” he says. He adds that Naick’s rule was an era noted for cultural and architectural brilliance. Also for the renovation of temples that had been ransacked. By synthesising Dravidian, Islamic and European styles, Tirumalai Naick evolved a unique architectural style, which this palace stands testimony to. The Italian architect created two big building complexes. One was Swarga Vilasam, the administrative block. The other was Ranga Vilasam, the residential quarters, which was completely demolished. All that remains of it today are just the 10 granite pillars. However, a portion of Swarga Vilasam, which includes the central court and the entertainment hall, is still intact. “Tiruchi was the capital of the Madurai Naicks,” says Santhalingam. He adds that since he was a staunch devotee of goddess Meenakshi, Tirumalai Naick shifted the capital from Tiruchi to Madurai, just so it would be easier for him to visit the temple everyday. “Then Chokkanatha Naick decided to move back to stop the Gingee Naicks and Thanjavur Naicks from invading Madurai… When the king vacated the palace, it became a deserted area, and people living in and around the palace found it easy to encroach and occupy the land.” He adds, “Even today, you can find mini pillars from the palace in local houses that are built around it.”
The first major renovation was carried out by Lord Napier in the 19th Century. He employed a British engineer to restore the palace to its original glory. At that time, the defaced surface of all the 248 giant pillars was given a smooth, glossy texture, with chunnambu (lime stone) and stucco plastering mixed with egg white.
While the Archaeological Survey of India has taken over the maintenance of several Jain monuments around Madurai, the majestic Tirumalai Naick Palace has been left out. The Srivilliputtur Palace, built by Tirumalai Naick in similar style for his brother Muthialu Naick, is now under the control of the ASI.
The palace even housed the composite Madurai-Ramanathapuram district court complex. The court was later shifted to a new building, and the palace was brought under the protection of the State Archaeological Department during 1970s. However, with poor funding, the department is finding it hard to maintain the Tirumalai Naick Palace. Perhaps, with more publicity, people will realise how important it is to save this unique piece of our collective past.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Metroplus / by T. Saravanan / Chennai – July 01st, 2016
Fond memories:Saranya Jayakumar (right) says the charming demeanour of Neil O’Brien brought a certain classiness to his quizzes.— File photo
Neil O’Brien, the legendary quizmaster and educationist who died in Kolkata on Friday at the age of 82, left an irreplaceable legacy for a whole generation of people who took to the mind sport.
Saranya Jayakumar, a Chennai resident who has been called the ‘Mother of Indian quizzing’ by Neil’s son Derek — a popular quizmaster himself — was a regular on the Calcutta quizzing scene by the time Neil laid down its framework. “It was between 1978 and 1985, when I was part of a team called Motley Crew, that I came into contact with people like Neil O’ Brien and Sadhan Banerjee (who did the annual North Star quizzes),” said Ms. Jayakumar, now 76.
“Neil was a legend in the Calcutta quizzing scene. Most of the time, his team DI (Dalhousie Institute Club) was unbeatable. He was also the quizmaster for the annual DI quiz. It was because of him that Calcutta was the quizzing capital of India for a long time, before Bangalore, Chennai and other cities came on the scene.”
But what set Neil apart was his charming demeanour that brought a certain classiness to his quizzes. “As a quizmaster, he was always in control — others would lose their cool and get a bit worked up if the audience was a little unruly. Nothing like that happened when Neil conducted it.”
And he always had the right mix of questions. Given his English Literature degree, there were always questions on the origins of words and phrases. “I used to like them because I too had an English Literature background,” she said. “But Neil had something from everything: religion, mythology, art, the Raj period, the history of Calcutta, and more.”
The secret of a good quiz question, she said, was that it shouldn’t be too trivial. “The sort of questions that Neil asked back then were worth asking. They were never trivial.”
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> Cities> Chennai / by Ramakrishnan M / Chennai – June 30th, 2016
He’s 93 now and he hasn’t stopped. That’s what he has been doing for much of his working life, and a lot more vigorously in the last 10 years over which he has brought out three books. He is is now working on his fourth. That’s S. Venkatraman of Mylapore, who retired as Stores Officer, Diesel Locomotive Works, Varanasi, in 1982.
From 2010, he has self-published three solid volumes of Indian Railway history and a fourth will come out next year. In 2010 he published Indian Railways at a Glance, 234 pages with 250 photographs. Then in 2014 came his magnum opus, Indian Railways: The Beginning up to 1900. This was 534 pages with 600 pictures! Now he has just released The Madras Railway from1849, with 248 pages and over a hundred pictures and documents. He promises that next year we will have with us his South Mahratta Railway 1888 to 1908.
The books may not be organised in the best manner possible for easy reading but what they have is information aplenty, unlikely to be found anywhere else but in the archives of the various Railway Divisions. I haven’t seen so much information, much of it with facsimiles of original documents (see first Madras Railway timetable alongside), in any publication that has come into my hands in recent times. Truly this laborious research has been one of love — and the result is a set of books that anyone interested in Indian Railways would want to grace his library.
Venkatraman may be contacted at laliram75@yahoo.com. That ‘lali’ in Venkatraman’s email address is, I suspect, the name of his wife who passed away a few years ago.
He tells the heart-warming story of their marriage. They passed out of high school together after getting married, got their Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees together and then he asked her to do her doctorate while he concentrated on his job and hobby, the output of the latter surely deserving of a doctorate.
Tall, slim, erect, sharp of mind and strong of voice Venkatraman belies his age. His secret of good health is walking five miles and climbing 200 steps a day till recently. He also says he eats less solids and consumes more liquids, including several bottles of water a day. Then, there’s the travelling — he travels about 10 days a month, on the railways of course. Travel has also taken him to several countries abroad. In the U.S., he discovered IRFCA, the Indian Railway Fans’ Club of America.
IRFCA is a privately maintained website that had its beginnings when Vijay Balasubramaniam, doing his Ph.D. at the University of Illinois, posted an article on the Shatabdis. Dheeraj Sanghi, doing his Ph.D. at the University of Maryland, responded. Into their exchange of mails came Sankaran Kumar, doing his post-doctorate at the University of Ohio. This was sometime in April 1989 and others have joined since. Today, IRFCA members are authors of hundreds of articles on all aspects of Indian Railways. Several of them have photo galleries. As Balasubramaniam says, “The site is intended for the benefit of all those interested in learning about the railways of India and to create awareness of Indian Railways.” This too is a bit of my learning from one of Venkatraman’s books.
Postscript: A couple of days after I came across the anagram IRFCA, I came across another intriguing American one, this one even closer to Madras. This one is CEGAANA and translates as College of Engineering Guindy Alumni Association of North America. It appears to operate out of the Bay Area. Contact: info@cegaana.org.
Two temples not one
Dr. N. Sreedharan and M. Desikan, responding to E.P. Parthasarathy’s comment (Miscellany June 13) on what I had written in Miscellany, May 30, offer me a wealth of information about the Thiruvidavendhai Perumal temple. This temple of Sri Lakshmivaraha Perumal is near Kovalam (Covelong), about 40 km from Madras and facing the sea. The village is popularly called Thiruvidanthai.
The presiding deity, taking the shape of Lord Vishnu’s third incarnation, Varaha the Boar, is iconised here as a nine-foot tall idol which is described by Desikan as follows: “(The Lord’s) consort Akhilavalli Ammal is seated on His left thigh, His left hand encircling Her waist, Her feet resting on the Lord’s lower palm. ‘Ida’ in the name Thiruvidavendhai refers to the Lord holding His consort on His left side (ida being ‘left side’). The Lord is holding a conch in his upraised right hand and a discus in His left. His right foot, raised knee-high, is resting on the many-hooded serpent Adi Sesha.”
Explaining the material used in the construction — about which (‘Saligramam nay Sila Thirumeni’) I had sought clarification — Dr. Sreedharan writes that Sila Thirumeni refers, in effect, to sacred stone (granite) and saligramams are special kinds of pebbles found in and around the Gandaki River in Nepal.
Their use in the icon could be for the garland the Lord wears, but, adds Dr. Sreedharan, that by using the word ‘nay’ E.P. Parthasarathy “seems to emphasise the former, i.e. the entire idol is in saligramam stones”.
A special feature of the temple are the poojas conducted for those seeking early marriage. He or she wishing to get married performs archana and offers two garlands, one for the Lord and the other for his consort.
The garlands, duly blessed, are returned to the offerer to wear and circumambulate the temple nine times, praying for a happy marriage soon. He or she is asked to take the garlands home and place them in a pooja room till the marriage happens. After the wedding, the couple is expected to bring the now-dried garlands to the temple and hang them on a tree there; a huge tree in the precincts is wreathed in thousands of dried garlands. ‘Beseech Lord Adi Varaha at Thiruvidanthai to bless you speedily with marital bliss,’ is the call of the temple near Kovalam, one of the 108 Divya Desams (pilgrim centres) of Vaishnavites.
Inscriptions dating to between the 10th and 16th Centuries speak of Chola, Pandya and other dynasties patronising the temple. Clearing the air further — and enabling me to say this is an end to this exchange — is V. Raja Narayanan who states that it is about two different temples this exchange has been all about. Thiru-Vada-Venthai, home of the coloured Perumal, is in Mahabalipuram itself, Thiru-(V)ida-Venthai is near Kovalam. In the former, vada means ‘right’ (the Lord having the Goddess on the right side of his body) and in the latter she is on the left (ida).
Narayanan also adds that saligramam is a kind of snail found in the river Gandaki in Nepal. It is believed Vishnu lives in the shell. Statues made out of saligramam are called Saligrama Sila Thirumeni, out of brick and mortar Sutha Thirumeni and, of wood, Sila Thirumeni. Wood is, however, rarely used. With that, I’m at last out of my depth.
Celebrating with walks
At a recent press conference, the catalysts of Madras Week announced that the Week this year would be celebrated between August 21 and August 28 but that, like last year, they expect programmes to start as early as the first week of August and go on till the first week of September.
They hoped that this year there would be more walks leading to greater appreciation of the city. It was suggested that citizen volunteers lead walks in their respective areas. Some areas suggested were Mint Street, Broadway, Harrington Road, Mada Street (Royapuram), Robinson Park surroundings, and Besant Nagar.
There are hundreds more for potential walk-leaders to think about.
In a coincidence, just before the press meet I had lunch with Surekha Narain of Delhi who leads walks in the Capital.
She offers 45 walks and adds at least one new walk every year. Impressive.
But what was more relevant to Madras was that Delhi last year organised a Heritage Walks Week — and there were 85 different walks, Narain conducting one every day.
Last year, Madras Week had about 40 walks. This year, should we aim at 100? Or at least attempt to beat Delhi’s record.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Metroplus / S. Muthiah / June 26th, 2016
A game of Dayakattai in progress Archita Suryanarayanan
Chennai :
The sound of the long, rectangular brass dice reverberates on the wooden table. “Six and two. You can cut him…and play vettaatam,” instructs 83-year-old Namagiri Lakshmi to her grandson Vijay. Welcome to Dayakattai, a traditional Tamil dice game.
In a race-to-the-finish game (a predecessor to Ludo) you have four rectangles filled with squares that your pieces need to traverse. You start with six pieces in your ‘home’ territory, and you have to pass all the coins through the opponents’ territories and come back home. You can bring the pieces onto the board only if you roll a dayam and you need to ‘cut’ any opponent at least once. The bonus — you get an extra roll of the dice if you get a one, five, six or 12.
In Pagade, which is similar to Dayakattai, you can ‘cut’ the opponent’s pieces and send them back to the start box. However, there are eight safe zones where other players cannot cut you.
Experts like Lakshmi remember playing since they were little. “It used to be a little different back then — if you rolled a 7 or 9, it was a no-play. And we used to sing folk songs as we played,” she recalls. And she can do the mental math and tell you, based on what you’ve rolled, which square your piece will end up in. “Five, two, six, three — this piece will land there,” she says.
In fact, the association with the game runs so deep in the family that just the night before her grandson Vijay was born, his mother Usha played Dayakattai! “We played late into the night and the next morning Vijay was born in the hospital,” she remembers.
Explaining the concept of dokka vettu, she says, “It’s a more recent and violent addition to the game. It’s when your piece gets cut just one square before reaching home. It triggered so many fights between the kids!” Vijay and Usha recall a famous punch-line from the game when one player cut another player in revenge: “Vettuku vettu. Rathathuku ratham (cut for a cut, blood for blood).
The squares used to be drawn using maakkal (chalk-like substance) or even sandal. The coins can be anything from peanuts to cashew nuts. “Kids liked taking edible coins, because when you came back home, you could eat them! Sometimes, they would simply eat one in the middle of the game and say they had already crossed the finish line! It’s tough to keep track because there are six coins a player!” laughs Lakshmi.
With the spirit of game coursing through this family’s veins, looks like it will be quite some time before one can forget the coins and the cuts!
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Varun B. Krishnan / June 25th, 2016
Mikael Stamm, scholar from Denmark, in Chennai. Photo: B. Jothi Ramalingam / The Hindu
Denmark’s Mikael Stamm in his search for philosophical answers ended up doing his Ph.D in Saiva Siddhanta at the University of Madras.
Philosopher Hume wrote that books on metaphysics contained nothing but “sophistry and illusion.” Most analytic philosophers were inspired by Hume’s condemnation of metaphysics. The logical positivists even tried to develop artificial languages, which, by their very nature, would make it impossible for metaphysical questions to be asked in those languages. The Vienna circle, which not only included philosophers such as Neurath, Schlick and Carnap, but also mathematicians such as Godel, also wanted to steer clear of metaphysics.
Coming to the Indian scene, it is hard to conceive of Hindu philosophy completely shorn of metaphysics. Hindu philosophers also had linguistic concerns, but their thoughts ran on different lines.
Grammarians such as Katyayana and Patanjali believed that language was eternal, very much like the Vedas. Speech after all, was the mode through which gods were invoked when Vedic sacrifices were performed.
Patanjali introduced the concept of ‘sphota.’ “Sphota is that which is manifested in the mind through the agency of hearing, and that which manifests meaning in the mind,” writes Dr. Pierre Filliozat.
Grammarian Bhartrhari (5th century C.E.) elaborated on sphota. When we say something, we enunciate all the letters in the sentence, sequentially. As each letter is uttered, the previous one fades away. How then do we get an idea of what is being said? This is where sphota comes in. Canadian scholar Harold Coward wrote: “Sphota is an object of each person’s cognitive perception.” Patanjali gave the example of the word cow — ‘go’ in Sanskrit. The moment the word ‘go’ is uttered, we get a mental image of a cow with all its features. Bhartrhari called the essence of speech ‘sabda.’ To him, ‘sabda’ is Brahman. Grammar helps us to see what errors have crept into language, and helps us to get rid of them. If speech is Brahman, then grammar is the path that leads us to this Brahman.
So while Western philosophy was occupied with language in a negative way, in India, language was looked at through a metaphysical prism.
My curiosity is aroused when I hear that a student of Western philosophy from Denmark, is doing his Ph.D in Saiva Siddhanta in the Sanskrit Department, University of Madras. I meet Mikael Stamm one afternoon, and he explains why he was disenchanted with Western philosophy. “I didn’t like its rejection of metaphysical questions. You don’t skirt round questions, simply because they are uncomfortable. I couldn’t accept the notion that it was the business of philosophy to clear up linguistic misconceptions for the sake of science. So I moved away from Western philosophy, and studied Computer Science, and for many years I worked in UNI- C, a government organisation, which develops service networks for Universities in Denmark.”
But the philosophical questions kept nagging him, and he thought perhaps India might have the answers. His first trip to India took him to Goa, and there he picked up a translation of the Bhagavad Gita. Reading it, he realised that the Gita had answers to many questions that had been troubling him. In subsequent trips, he visited many other towns, but when he went to Varanasi that things fell into place.
A visit to the Viswanatha temple and conversations with pandits there, helped him to make up his mind. He decided he would study Saiva Siddhanta, and applied to three Universities. Madras University was the first to respond, and Mikael did his Masters in Tamil Saiva Siddhanta.
He had read books on Hindu temples in Denmark, but had seen the temples merely as architectural marvels, without connecting them to the religion. It was his many visits to temples that made him realise that here was a living culture.
“In Denmark, our original culture was the Viking one, but within 200 years of the advent of Christianity into our country, the Viking culture was wiped out. So we don’t have an ancient, indigenous living religion and culture as in the case of Hinduism here,” Mikael says.
Tracing the history of Saiva Siddhanta, Mikael says, “The surfacing of distinct Saiva Siddhanta doctrines started at about 800 C.E. and lasted till 1300 C.E. After this, significant expressions of Saiva Siddhanta were confined to Tamil Nadu. The most important dualistically inclined Saiva Siddhantists were Sadyojyoti, Bhojadeva, Ramakantha and Aghorasivacharya, who based their views on the Agamas, especially the earlier ones such as Parakhya, Karana, Paushkara, Mrgendra, Matanga and Raurava. Aghorasivacharya was criticised by later Tamil philosophers such as Sivagnanamunivar and Śivaagrayogin, who were non-dualistic in their philosophy. But Tamil Saiva Siddhanta was not non-dualistic in a sense like Advaita, and the Tamil Saiva Siddhantists did not subscribe to the theory that the world was illusory.”
Mikael began studying Sanskrit from his very first day at the Madras University. Early lessons were self taught. Later, Dr. Balasubramaniam of the Sanskrit College, Mylapore, taught him Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra.
“I didn’t waste a minute. I would study Sanskrit from memory cards, while waiting for buses and in between lectures.”
Back home in Denmark, he studied under an Indian professor who also took spoken Sanskrit classes. From him, Mikael picked up an interest in Nada Karika, which is a text of 25 verses, written by Ramakantha II (11th century C.E.). It has a commentary by Aghorasivacharya. Nada Karika asks questions about the origin of sound, and how words relate to objects.
Does Saiva Siddhanta believe in Nada Brahman or Sabda Brahman? “No. In Saiva Siddhanta, Siva and Sakti are the ultimate sources. Word and sound are not present in the highest level, which is pure, without any trace of sabda or subtle matter. The ultimate experience is without words. This is opposed to the view point of grammarians and the view of later non dual Kashmiri Saivisim, where reality and language are one.”
Will he include a study of concepts like sphota in his work? “Yes, especially because I think concepts such as these deserve more attention from Western philosophers.” He plans to make a comparative study of Saiva Siddhanta with Nyaya, Mimamsa, and Bhartrhari’s work. He also wants to zero in on a temple and see how words are used in rituals. He wants to show how the history of the ritual and philosophy are connected.
Mikael says he left Christianity at the age of 25. “I lost faith in Christianity. I could not believe that you lived once and then went to heaven or hell. I also could not believe in Absolute Evil and Absolute Good, conquering the evil. I have seen how this is politically used, by labelling people evil. When I was a student, there were many Communists in my class. The government was quick to label them ‘evil.’ When the Communist movement lost its steam, a similar pattern was formulated. But the new evil became the immigrants. The only concern of the Danish People’s Party, for example, is to keep out foreigners. In India, I am amazed at how a religion, which predates Christ by a few thousand years, still survives although it is not patronised by the government. I see how many temples thrive, not because of government help, but because of the bhakti of devotees. In Denmark, the Church is run by the government and all priests are civil servants.”
Mikael says that a majority of youngsters in Denmark don’t go to Church, although Christianity is taught as a subject in schools.
Is his interest in Saiva Siddhanta more than just an intellectual one? “Of course. I am a practising Saivite. I have also become a vegetarian.”
Is it easy being a vegetarian in Denmark? “No, it isn’t easy. When I go to restaurants with my friends, the people in the restaurant have to scramble to toss a few vegetables together to make a salad for me. But luckily, there is an Indian restaurant in Copenhagen, where vegetarian food is served.”
After he finishes his doctoral studies, Mikael Stamm wants to teach Saiva Siddhanta in India, preferably in Tamil Nadu.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Friday Review / by Suganthy Krishnamachari / June 16th, 2016
From hand-crafting musical instruments to providing a platform for people to learn music… here’s the story of Musée Musical
There’s a reason why the doors to the entrance of Musée Musical are tall enough for elephants to walk through. In fact, they served the very purpose: the building was used to shelter the elephants of Parthasarathy Temple. Today, it brims with guitars, violins and veenas that gleam from glass cabinets that line the walls. Situated in a cosy corner off Anna Salai, the music ‘salon’ was started by a Portuguese music-lover called Misquith in 1842. “He repaired and serviced pianos and organs back then,” recalls Kishore Das, the CEO of the company.
“Called Misquith & Co., it had 16 branches, including in places such as Lahore and the Nilgiris. But he sold them all, owing to ill health,” he adds. “Prudhomme, a Frenchman bought the Madras branch — he was the one who gave it the current name. His friend Amy Rozario, a pianist and music teacher, was the director; my grandfather Giridhar Das worked as the financial director.”
Towards the early 1940s, when the Independence Movement was at its peak, Amy decided to leave the country. That’s when Giridhar Das bought over the company. For the first time since its founding, Musée Musical had an Indian at the helm.
Kishore Das, CEO, Musee Musical / Photo: V. Ganesan. / The Hindu
Today, seated in an office surrounded by hundreds of musical instruments, Kishore narrates the story of this “institution” that not only sold and taught music, but also made its own instruments. Musée Musical started to hand-craft its own instruments out of necessity. This was because the Government imposed a 330 per cent duty on importing musical instruments after Independence. The trend continued until 1996. During the intermittent years, the company was a haven for those who wanted to practise Western music. They rented out instruments at a nominal rate and provided a platform for those who wanted to learn music.
“Music is common to everyone. It cannot be divided by borders,” feels Kishore. “We’ve seen musicians suffer without access to instruments and wanted to make them available.” Today, they continue to make their own instruments, although on a small scale. “We’ve been an examination centre for the Trinity College, London, since 1901,” he adds.
At Musee Musical. / Photo: V. Ganesan. / The Hindu
The aisles of the store have seen ordinary men and women walk in as starry-eyed lovers of music and walk out as geniuses after years of training: think Ilaiyaraaja and A.R. Rahman. Kishore remembers seeing a young Ilaiyaraaja come to their store on foot all the way from Mylapore. “He went through a lot of hardship to learn music,” he says. “For me, the best thing about being in this field is that over the years, we’ve shown people that music can also be a career,” says Kishore. “We’ve been working with the Government and educational institutions towards that.”
Years of hosting musicians and musical instruments has changed something in the quaint building. It clings to us as we walk out through the elephant doors. You can’t exactly name the feeling — it’s a mix of an inexplicable calm and awe.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Metroplus> Society / by Akila Kannadasan / Chennai – June 21st, 2016
LEGACY WEBSITE:M. Rengasamy (second from right), former MLA, inaugurating the Serfojimemorial.com, a website on royal family, in Thanjavur on Sunday.— PHOTO: R.M. RAJARATHINAM
A website on the Thanjavur Maratha Royals was launched here on Sunday by Prince Pratap Sinha Raje Bhosle, the 14th descendent of Maharajah Venkoji and the Sixth descendent of Maharajah Serfoji II.
The website Serfojimemorialhall.com is in the name of Serfoji Memorial hall at the Sadar Mahal Palace, a museum founded in 1997 on the Palace premises by Prince Tulajendra Rajah Bhosle, the grandfather of Pratap Sinha.
The website contains information and details on the museum, Maratha Kings of Thanjavur and old rare photographs of the royal family. Prince Pratap Sinha Raje Bhosle started with a Facebook page in 2013 in the name of the private museum where he got a good response while in the next year he started a blogger.
In 2015, Prince Pratap published a book Contributions of Thanjavur Maratha Kings .
Maharajah Serfoji II, a descendent of the great Maratha ruler and founder of the Maratha Kingdom, Chatrapathi Shivaji the Great, ruled Thanjavur from 1798 to 1832 A.D. Prince Tulajendra Rajah Bhosle, the fourth descendant of Maharajah Serfoji II, has been living in Thanjavur Sadar Mahal Palace with his family, to preserve the heritage of the illustrious Maratha royals of Thanjavur.
To preserve the remaining antiques of Rajah Serfoji II, he formed a trust and opened a museum at Sadar Mahal in the name of “Maharajah Serfoji II Memorial Hall” that was declared opened on October 11, 1997.
The website was launched at the monthly meet of the Cholamandala Numismatic Society in the presence of Board Member, Saraswati Mahal Library, and Managing Trustee, Serfoji II Memorial Hall Museum, Prince Shivaji Rajah Bhosle, former MLA M. Rengasamy, Chairman, Parisutham Institue of Technology, S.P. Anthonisamy, historian Gopalan Venkatraman, Society president Shaktivel, founder M. Durairasu, and secretary I. Kulandaisamy.
Director of Sri Sakthi Natya Kalalayam Aruna Subrahmanyam spoke and presented a bharatanatyam performance by her disciples. Bharatanatyam master Herambanathan was present.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> National> Tamil Nadu / by Special Correspondent / Thanjavur – June 20th, 2016
Tamil Nadu has hit the literary jackpot this year with two authors from the state winning the Sahitya Akademi awards. The winners, Kuzha Kathiresan and Lakshmi Saravana Kumar, are a contrasting duo with just one commonality. Both of them, though happy, feel the recoginition has been delayed.
(L) Lakshmi Saravana Kumaf (R) Kuzha Kathiresan
Kathiresan, a 67-year-old publisher, famous for his children’s books and poetry, began his writing career at the age of 30. He was awarded the Bala Puraskar award for total contribution to children literature.
On the other hand, Yuva Puraskar awardee Lakshmi Saravana Kumar is just 31-years-old. His novel Kaanakan, which won him the award, is set in the ganja fields of the Western Ghats in Theni district and deals with the lives of the underprivileged and the oppressed. The author, who carries his mother’s name as his first name, is also a filmmaker. He had assisted director Vasanthabalan in his period film Aravaan and the historical fiction, Kaaviya Thalaivan. Saravana Kumar is now working on the script for his first film.
Kathiresan who runs Ainthinai Pathippagam, was at his house in Anna Nagar when a well-wisher called him to inform about him being included in the list of awardees. “It is indeed a surprise. I hadn’t sent any sample work to the Akademi last year. Five years ago, I was expecting one. Then, over time, it never crossed my mind,” Kathiresan told at his Anna Nagar residence.
Saravana Kumar was busy with production meetings for his movie when he was informed of the news. “This award doesn’t call for a huge celebration, I feel. But I am happy nevertheless,” he told Express over phone. He feels that his Yuva Puraskar award was due at least three years ago for his novel, Uppu Naigal, which he considers his as his best work. Though Akademi award was delayed, both the writers were bestowed with several other awards over the years.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Srikanth Dhasarathy / June 17th, 2016
