Madurai Trees 25’ being released in Madurai on Sunday. Author D. Stephen, left, Assistant Professor in Botany, The American College, is seen. / Photo: R. Ashok / The Hindu
Lists 25 species that are common in Madurai with details of origin and uses
‘Madurai Trees 25,’ a book on trees in Madurai was released by Madurai Green, a non-governmental environmental organisation, here on Sunday.
The book authored in Tamil by D. Stephen, Assistant Professor in Botany, The American College, has a list of 25 species that are common in Madurai, with elaborate details of the origin and uses of the trees. The book was released by P. Saravanan, managing director of Saravana Multispeciality Hospital, at Gandhi Memorial Museum where the 25 Green Walk of Madurai Green was organised on Sunday.
Speaking on the occasion, N. Chidambaram, coordinator of Madurai Green, said the organisation, established 22 years ago, had conducted 25 Green Walks in the past two years. “Involvement of people in green walks has given us fresh hope that the environment of Madurai can be conserved in a better way in the coming years. The participation of youth is laudable,” he said.
“One of the major environmental issues Madurai faces is improper disposal of garbage. Sewage and garbage disposal should be done properly by the public,” Mr. Chidambaram added.
Mr. Stephen said the book would serve as guide to people on the different trees in Madurai. Purasu, nuna, athandai, vattakanni, oduvan, banyan, peepal, palm, neem and coconut were some of the trees mentioned in the book.
M.P. Vasimalai, executive director of Dhan Foundation, emphasised that the city’s green cover should be improved. “We should start planting saplings of rare and traditional trees,” he said.
President of Madurai Green D. Raghavan pointed out that the city’s temperature had rapidly increased in the three decades because of felling of trees. “In 1982, the maximum temperature here was 27 degree Celsius, whereas it was 32 degree Celsius in 1990 and now it is 39 degree Celsius,” he noted.
Members of Nanal Nanbargal and other youth organisations that took part in the green walks regularly also shared their experiences.
A.K. Xavier, Principal of St. Joseph ITI, Edwin Rajkumar, Professor of CSI Jayaraj Annapackiam College of Nursing, Ranjitham, Principal of St. Teresa Teacher’s Training Institute, and several others spoke. Free saplings of trees were distributed to those who attended the programme.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> Cities> Madurai / by Staff Reporter / Madurai – June 30th, 2014
Peanut vendor P.S. Gopalakrishnan on the Government Botanical Garden Road in Udhagamandalam. / Photo:M.Sathyamoorthy / The Hindu
His presence is not as conspicuous as his absence. That is Trichur Kilimangalam P.S. Gopalakrishnan, a septuagenarian, who along with his pushcart equipped with a stove, a hurricane lamp, a ladle, a pan and a stainless steel container is a familiar sight on the Government Botanical Garden road here.
Though his presence is taken for granted and people from all sections of the society here and many regular visitors are aware of the fact that he has been around for long, only a few know that it is now 50 years since he started wheeling a push cart with pea nuts. Though landmarks are aplenty in this vacation destination many tend to agree that the best known is Mr .Gopalakrishnan’s pushcart.
The landmark makes its appearance near the out gate of the Lawley Institute, a heritage club on Government Botanical Garden road everyday around 2 p.m. and remains there till late in the night monsoon rain or winter chillness notwithstanding.
Mr. Gopalakrishnan who is now about 72 has been pushing it between that place and his house or some place nearby almost everyday since 1964 selling roasted pea nuts. Ever since he started the business, he has stuck to the spot near the Lawley Institute. In the process very few among the large number of people who use the road fail to stop or slow down to exchange pleasantries with him or buy a packet of his peanuts.
The taste of his uniformly roasted (in hot sand) peanuts sold earlier in ‘potlams’ and now in packets has remained the same but the price has gone up over the years. Speaking to The Hindu the ‘kadalaikaran’ as he is popularly known said that a small ‘potlam’ which he had in the early days sold for ten paise started fetching fifteen paise in the early 1970s. A few years later 25 paise and 50 paise potlams were offered.
With coins becoming increasingly scarce he started selling Rs. 1 potlams. For sometime now small packets are being sold for Rs. 5 and slightly larger ones for Rs. 10. In a reminiscent mood he says that he dropped out of school after doing his Class V due to personal reasons and when he was around 20 years moved to Ooty in search of a livelihood.
Finding a ramshackle cart he had started selling peanuts. With perseverance enabling him to make ends meet, he got married in 1970.The couple has a daughter and two sons and all are married.
Stating “my worst experience was when I was attacked by a few stray ponies and my cart caught fire in 1972”, he said that he escaped with minor injuries. Regretting that with age catching up he is finding it increasingly difficult to stick to his routine.
“The strain of standing in a single spot for 50 years is beginning to tell”. He added that he would be happy if his health permits him to continue his trade for at least another couple of years.
Having endeared himself to people of all ages by patiently answering questions about himself and his trade and listening to the personal problems of his customers, many treat him as, ‘part of the family’. He cherishes a scarf thoughtfully bought for him from New York by a girl from the Lawrence School in Lovedale who has been eating his peanuts since the late 1980s. Many tourists particularly foreigners are intrigued and excited at the manner in which he roasts the peanuts and see in him a fine photo opportunity.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> Cities> Coimbatore / by D. Radhakrishnan / Udhagamandalam – June 30th, 2014
Giving clothes a second innings: Employees of Re-Stitch Point./ Photo: K. Pichumani / The Hindu
For 25 years, this small establishment in Mylapore has made a business out of a need to alter clothes, reports Liffy Thomas
Finding a tailor who specialises in altering stitched clothes is a challenge. More likely than not, your regular tailor is not keen on alteration work. If he accepts such work, he is likely to sit on it for a few weeks. And then, you don’t always trust the road-side tailor with an expensive dress.
For 25 years now, this shop specialises only in alteration of clothes for men and women. Re-Stitch Point at Mylapore does not take up stitching jobs. It does not have to. It has a huge number of customers giving it re-stitching jobs.
Not many tailors are keen on taking up such work, so that makes us different from most tailors, says M. Sashikala, who owns the shop.
Five tailors and two front-office staff take care of the day-to-day activities: taking measurement of customers and altering clothes.
From patchwork on an old and torn jeans to re-sizing a salwar kameez , the shop does it all, except for altering blouses.
A good number of customers want clothes altered for sentimental reasons.
For instance, a lady customer wanted a pair of trousers worn by her brother, who passed away, altered to fit her so that she could continue to wear it.
“It was a low-waist trouser and we had to add extra material to make it her fit,” said a staff that altering was more challenging that stitching.
Amjad Khan, who has been working in the shop for the last two decades, says the most difficult task is increasing the waist. “Unlike other parts that have extra stitches, here we have to get almost matching material to increase the waist,” he says.
Re-Stitch is keen on expanding, provided it gets more employees.
The shop is open from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. and 4 p.m. to 8.30 p.m.
All the bells in the Armenian Church bear the stamp of Thomas Mears, which indicates that they were all cast between 1787 and 1844. / Special Arrangement / The Hindu
The Armenian Church standing on the eponymous street is one of my favourite locations in the city. Its solidly-built walls, quiet nooks and stately interiors fill me with a sense of peace that cannot be matched. Lovingly tended by the Armenian community in Calcutta and by the local caretaker Mr Alexander, it ought to be on every resident and tourist’s visit itinerary.
Leaving that aside, it was while walking around it with a group of Americans last week that I recalled that the heritage structure has its (albeit tenuous) links with the US of A. This concerns the bells of the church, which are housed in an independent three-storied tower, on the southern side of the yard. They are accessed via a three-century-old staircase by the more physically fit and brave. The church authorities restrict entry to the tower – a sensible precaution given the age of the staircase. The ground floor of the tower has three tombs all with the same carvings on the headstone. The inscriptions are in Armenian but they probably were members of the family that funded the tower. The belief is strengthened by the fact that the same motif as the headstones – winged angels, is repeated on all floors of the belfry.
The bells are rung every Sunday at 9.30 am. Said to be the largest in the city, there are six of them, donated at different times to the church, each weighing around 25 kgs. All of them were cast at the Whitechapel Bell Foundry of London. The company, founded in 1570, moved into its present premises in 1739 and continues in the same business. Talk about focus!
Given that all the bells in the Armenian Church bear the stamp of Thomas Mears, it indicates that they were all cast between 1787 and 1844, when two men of that name, probably father and son, were master founders with the company. It is of interest to note that the same company cast the bells for St Pauls Cathedral and Westminster Abbey in London, besides several other churches in England and the Big Ben in the Houses of Parliament in London.
Now for the American connect. The Liberty bell of Pennsylvania is one of the treasured heritage possessions of the USA. Commissioned in 1751, it was cast at the same Whitechapel Foundry and shipped to Philadelphia where it hung in the steeple of the Pennsylvania State House. It cracked even during its first ring and had to be recast twice locally before it could be used properly. A second and more lasting crack in 1835 ended its career as a ringing bell but it has remained a tourist attraction. Scaled down models of it, crack and all, remain popular souvenirs across the country. Our own ‘Belfry Six’ as the set of bells in the Armenian Church are referred to, have thankfully remained crack-free.
I wonder if any other church in our city has bells cast by the same company.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus> Society / by Sriram V / Chennai – June 27th, 2014
Chennai, well-known for its rich Kanjeevaram saris, can undoubtedly be called India’s Mecca of silk./ Photo: K.V. Srinivasan / The Hindu
In the age of social media, the traditional garment is unfurling itself in more ways than you can imagine. Pragya Priyadarshini traverses the lanes of T. Nagar to tell you why
If you think tradition and technology make for an incongruous marriage, think again. ‘Sari’, an app, can teach you how to drape your six unstitched yards like a professional, while your mother’s trusted silk-store is now creating Style Boards on Pinterest. The age-old sari has unfurled itself in more dimensions than our minds ever imagined.
Whether it is granting the wishes of its young connoisseurs or wooing the larger audience through the Internet, Sari like a mythological goddess with a hundred hands, is managing the incredible feat of pleasing women of all age-groups and how!
“Everything is quick now, the customers send us the designs of their choice through WhatsApp and we get them manufactured at our factory,” says A.B. Sidiq of Madeena Kalanther, a store in T. Nagar. “The designs are mostly from films, and television, especially Bollywood,” he says, as he turns the pages of the latest sari design catalogue, frequently pausing to point out the “filmi-saris” to me.
At a time when older generations are concerned about the increasing loss of tradition, the World Wide Web has made sure that the sari retains its magical charm in an ever-changing scenario. “With close to six lakh followers on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest accounts, we are ahead of our competitors on social media,” beams Priyadarshini Ramesh of Pothy Silks. At 23, Priyadarshini, just out of college, is all set to bring in a fresh perspective to the business that her great-grandfather set up almost a century ago.
Chennai, well-known for its rich Kanjeevaram saris, can undoubtedly be called India’s Mecca of silk. The city exports saris to Germany, Russia and France where they have graced numerous red carpets. As I walk through the bustling streets of T. Nagar, making my way through the evening crowds with the aroma of lip-smacking street food hanging heavily in the air, each sari shop appears to be more lavish than the other. Some shops are spread across multiple floors, dressed in carved wood and glass-chandeliers, while others have an army of salesmen in matching uniforms to assist you, their lips curved in welcoming smiles, their hands joined in a vanakkam. Some of these shops have been here for more than half a century while the others, relatively new, are quickly catching up in terms of variety.
There was a time when saris from Chennai meant being exuberant Kanjeevarams with gold borders and temple prints, gracefully ending in pallavs with tassels. Snap out of that dream! Far from the Ramakathas and Dasavatara tales from olden times spun on them in conventional reds, blues and greens, saris today are inspired by every colour and theme under the sun. Saris are not confined anymore to Kanjeevarams and Pochampallis. From Kollywood designs to prints of auto-rickshaws, you’ll find symbols of namma Chennai ooru in a variety of saris.
“I have never seen my mother in anything else than a sari, she loves her silks,” says Amrutheshwari V., 23. When asked if she would wear one herself, she giggles, saying, “Yes, I would, but something more stylish you know, something modern.”
As I wander on my sari-quest through the city, at several places I am greeted with the new-age kitschy palm prints and Madhubani-inspired saris in bright colours. “You can’t wear heavy silks for occasions such as ethnic day in college or the valedictory function. Silks are okay for weddings, but for other occasions I would love to go for some funky kitsch designs on chiffons or crepes,” says 21-year-old Karthika Suresh, who speaks for girls of her generation. With street style trickling in, these new age saris also jostle for space alongside silks in many of the stores. “Saris in kitschy colours and prints are fashionable and fun, and they have been in demand, especially with youngsters, for three years now. Earlier, for all the wedding events, we wore just silks, but girls now want to wear something other than silk at receptions. That is where kitsch comes in, there’s nothing wrong with it,” says Priyadarshini. “Personally I would like to wear the designs and the silk that my grandmother wore 50 years ago. Fashion always gets back to its roots.”
Another store stocks a collection of beautiful half-saris called ‘Kochadaiiyaan’, named after the latest Rajinikanth flick. “There are always some customers who come looking for film names, every shop has them these days. Anything worn by Deepika (Padukone) or Sonam (Kapoor) becomes a hit, we have to meet the demand,” the manager says.
When some 150 years ago, Raja Ravi Verma, through his paintings, popularised the nivi drape as the Indian way of wearing a sari (with the pleats in front and the loose end draped across the shoulder), would he have ever imagined that this elaborate process of placing, pleating and pinning would turn into a quick-fix “tuck-and-go” affair. Gone are the days when grandmothers and mothers would spend their evenings carefully sewing gold borders onto their daughter’s trousseau, and chiffons and georgettes were ordered from abroad.
A lady’s silks were a symbol of prestige. While some lament the loss of hand-woven saris that lasted decades and were passed on as heirlooms, light and convenient machine-made saris have come as a whiff of fresh air to others. Either way, each strand of this six-yard- long canvas still has a story to tell. It is the story of a tradition, which has gracefully made its way from the treasure chests of our grandmothers to the aisles of modern-day boutiques. One that has synchronised its rhythm with our fast-paced times. Like a perpetually flowing river it can never go out of fashion. A celebration of our culture, our history and who we are, the sari is here to stay.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus / by Pragya Priyadarshini / Chennai – June 27th, 2014
A miniature model of World Cup and a lively football match made out of gold (Photo: DC)
Coimbatore:
Here is shining example of what the football World Cup frenzy can do to a fan. G. Venkatesh, a goldsmith by profession and belonging to Vellalore, has crafted a beautiful miniature model of the World Cup using 130 milligram of gold.
Venkatesh, who has been making miniature objects using gold since 2009 hoping to create a Guinness record, has fashioned the football World Cup, all of 0.7 millimetres, with just 130 milligrams of gold.
Along with it, he has also crafted a replica of a lively football match with a team of miniature players, all made of gold, running around a ball. “I used to play football during my school days. Nowadays, I get to watch matches on television despite my painstaking and demanding job schedule,” he said. It took nearly 12 long hours for him to craft the World Cup and recreate the match scene.
Claiming to have dropped out of school after class 7, Venkatesh said his dream is to become a record-holder – like the achievers he sees on TV. Venkatesh is now busy crafting a miniature car, whose doors could be opened and wheels move.
“I had participated in few exhibitions and showcased my works and won appreciation. Some even came forward to buy my models for a good price, but I do not want to sell them,” he said. He hails from a poor family as his father T. Ganesh is a painter, mother G. Rajeswari is a homemaker and brother G. Manikandan is into crafting furniture.
source: http://www.deccanchronicle.com / Deccan Chronicle / Home> Nation> Current Affairs / DC / by V. Ashok Kumar / June 25th, 2014
Singeetam Srinivasa Rao remembers Dikkatra Parvathi, his first film in Tamil, based on Rajaji’s story
Singeetam Srinivasa Rao’s first film was in Telugu, a 1972 comedy named Neeti Nijayiti. It flopped. For his second film, he wanted to do something different. “At that time, there was this big art-cinema movement,” he told me last week. “We were very inspired by the neorealistic films, and by Satyajit Ray. That’s how Dikkatra Parvathi happened.”
A still from Dikkatra Parvathi / by Special Arrangement / The Hindu
Ray’s Pather Panchali had become the touchstone for young filmmakers, and Rao followed its lessons scrupulously. Because Ray’s film was scored by a classical musician (Ravi Shankar), Rao brought in the veena maestro Chitti Babu to compose the soundtrack for his film, which turned 40 this month. And because Ray’s film was based on a classic work of literature (by Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay), Rao too decided that his film would be based on a literary story that had fascinated him: Fatal Cart.
That was the English translation of C Rajagopalachari’s Dikkatra Parvathi. “Those days,” Rao told me, “it was easier to get funds from the Film Finance Corporation [the earlier avatar of the National Film Development Corporation] if your film was based on a classic.” He put in fifty thousand of his money, and the rest of the two-lakh budget came from FFC – Dikkatra Parvathi was the first Tamil film financed by the organisation.
Filmmaker Singeetam Srinivasa Rao / by Special Arrangement / The Hindu
Seeking further financial assistance, Rao decided to shoot the film someplace a little beyond the Tamil Nadu-Karnataka border, because the Karnataka government was offering subsidies (up to fifty thousand rupees) for films shot in the state. But when they discovered that Rajaji’s birthplace, Thorapalli, was just seven kilometres from Hosur, where the unit was camped, Rao’s wife convinced him that the film had to be shot there. “The village looked exactly like the one described in the story,” Rao said. “Plus, we got the satisfaction of shooting Rajaji’s story in Rajaji’s birthplace.”
Rao was hesitant, at first, to approach the 94-year-old Rajaji and take permission to film his story. “He hated films,” Rao said. “I wanted to make a film from a story of a man who hated films.” Later, Rajaji assured him that he only hated bad films. Rao remembers the day he met Rajaji: 7 December, 1972. “December 10 was his birthday and there would be a constant stream of visitors. So I went earlier.” Rajaji died soon after, on Christmas day, and the permission letter he gave Rao contained his last signature in an official capacity. More than a year later, his children attended the preview of Dikkatra Parvathi, which was “dedicated to the memory of Rajaji.”
The story is about newlyweds Parvathi (Lakshmi) and Karuppan (Srikanth), whose happy – if impoverished – life is ruined when he becomes an alcoholic and is unable to repay his loans. Two stretches stand out. The first occurs when Karuppan, goaded by a cohort, begins to drink. This is his first time. He asks, almost innocently, if drinking isn’t wrong and if you begin to smell if you drink. He takes his first sip and spits out the cheap liquor. The people around him laugh – we don’t see them (the camera stays focused on Karuppan), but we hear their mockery. And as if to prove a point to them, Karuppan drains the bottle.
This self-destructive male behaviour is balanced, towards the end, by self-destructive female behaviour. Parvathi is constantly hounded by a moneylender’s son (YG Mahendra) who is panting after her, and at one point, he enters her home when Karuppan is away. What happens next? We are kept in suspense, as the film cuts away to the aftermath: a court case. (Rao shot these scenes in a courthouse in Hosur, corralling local lawyers into the cast.) Over the song Enna kuttram seidheno, we get incremental flashbacks that lead us to the climax, where we learn what really occurred that night. It’s one of the rare times a Tamil-film heroine has been allowed to remain human.
Lakshmi was cast because Rao was impressed by the mobility in her face. “She was acting in a lot of ‘glamour roles’ then,” Rao said. “I saw her without makeup one day, and knew she was right for the role.” As for Srikanth, he was cast because he was not “the regular hero.” Dikkatra Parvathi was shot in 22 days by the cinematographer Ravi Varma, who had just finished work on a Malayalam film namedSwayamvaram, made by a first-time filmmaker named Adoor Gopalakrishnan. Rao said, “Adoor used to come by for the rerecording sessions of Dikkatra Parvathi.” The score, though, hasn’t aged well. Over the opening credits alone, we hear the veena, mridangam, morsing, tabla, shehnai, sarangi, flute – the resulting symphony, today, sounds too ostentatious for such a small, intimate film.
Dikkatra Parvathi was censored on December 31, 1973, but the film couldn’t be released due to an impasse. The FFC demanded repayment of their loan before they would issue the release letter, and the distributors insisted on the release letter before they coughed up the funds that would allow Rao to repay his loan to the FFC. When the director ran into MG Ramachandran, the Chief Minister, and spoke about his predicament, the latter instructed his secretary to buy the film.
This was the first time in the Indian film industry that a film was procured by a state – though MGR wasn’t exactly looking at it as a work of art. He had in mind other, more practical uses – as a propaganda film to further the cause of prohibition. Still, Dikkatra Parvathi was back in Rao’s hands. It was released in one theatre in Chennai, Little Anand. It would be almost a decade before he made his next Tamil feature, Rajapaarvai.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus / by Baradwaj Rangan / June 28th, 2014
A wide range of ancient terracotta vessels, pieces of smoke pipes, roof tiles and tools that belong to pre-historic period are spread on the table. C Veeraragavan’s love for ancient pieces began 25 years ago when he first found a three-legged terracotta jar near his home in Villupuram. Today, with more than 40 rare pieces, this 66-year-old conducts exhibition in various parts of Tamil Nadu to create awareness among youngsters about our history and arts.
The retired school teacher, who travels across the state showcasing his rare collection, says: “It’s not for money, it’s my passion. I spend from my pocket most of the time, as transporting these ancient pieces is not easy. They require proper care. But, I love doing it. I want children to know about our history.” Veeraragavan had exhibited his pieces as part of a two-day national seminar on ‘Hero Stones’ held in Hosur recently.
Veeraragavan also maintains a collection of 60 estampages of hero stones and inscriptions from various parts of Tamil Nadu. Hero stones are a type of memorial stones erected for the dead, who did exemplary work for the benefit of a society or community. “Taking the estampages of hero stones is not easy. I would go to the spot early in the morning, and start my work. It would take many days to get a perfect copy. Many hero stones faced vandalism in the later years, but I am happy that I have at least the copies of those rare pieces,” he says.
Veeraragavan’s collection has stone tools dating back to paleolithic and neolithic periods. He will even tell you about the minute differences in the tools from the two different pre-historic era. The terracotta vessels dated back to 2nd century BC to 2nd century AD. Although he is happy to conduct exhibitions, he is a bit worried about the pieces that were stolen from his collection during exhibitions. “Someone stole a beautiful chariot from my collection two years ago. Recently, someone stole a precious bronze jar,” he says.
But, these problems apart, Veeraragavan says he will continue his exhibition across TN. “I know the importance of this job. I have collected all these ancient pieces from the surface of the earth. Nobody is allowed to do excavation without permission. I am preserving it for the future generation,” he says.
source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Chennai / by M. T. Saju , TNN / June 25th, 2014
Sandwiched between the stark walls of two-storied concrete buildings is a small tiled-roof structure with wooden beams and trellis work painted green. The 100-year-old building in which the Madras Sanskrit College began stands dwarfed by newer structures that have come up around it to accommodate the 80 students that the college teaches today.
“Though other structures have come up around it, we have kept the original building intact as we are proud of being a 100-year-old institution. We wanted to keep it while expanding the college to meet modern needs. Classes are still conducted here,” said college manager H Subramanian, showing the staircase to the first floor, which has railings made of Burma teak.
Constructed in 1910 by jurist and philanthropist V Krishnaswami Iyer, who contributed a fair share to the growth of Mylapore, it was the only building on campus when the college — established in 1906 with about 500 students — moved from nearby Pellathope. It was constructed on 5,000sqft with a single floor. The building looks more like a house with a small verandah and plants curling across the windows and red roof tiles. The building cannot be classified into a particular style or type but follows the style of construction adopted in the early 1900s for office buildings. “You’ll find many collector’s offices and other government buildings in this style in the districts. There were many of them in Mylapore too. This was the style of office buildings in the early 20th century with high ceilings and large windows that practically touched the ground,” said Intach convener S Suresh.
The college was set up by Krishnaswami with two others, who formed a committee to prevent the loss of Sanskrit. Back then, as now, students studied the basics of the language and its grammar and get a ‘Visarada’ in Veda and Vedanta certificate at the end of five years.
The building is supported by iron and wooden beams with high ceiling which makes it well ventilated. Similar structures surrounded it for many years, and the campus had a lot of trees. “Classes used to be conducted under the trees for many years,” said Subramanian.
Over the years with the expansion of the college, trees gave way to buildings and the house-like structures on either side of the heritage building had to accommodate a hostel and a research institute, said Subramanian. A few trees are still left on the front and rear side of the main heritage structure.
“The main building was whitewashed in January. The old tiles and wooden beams were carefully removed, painted and replaced during the renovation. As the tiles were in good condition we did not change them,” said Subramanian. The building houses the college office and lecture hall on the ground floor and examination hall and mini hostel for students on the first floor. “Despite having new buildings, the principal conducts lectures and holds discussions on the first floor. It is so well ventilated that we don’t have an airconditioner though a proposal is pending,” said Subramanian. On the first floor are wooden cupboards from the old days.
Over the years, the building has had many famous visitors. On April 28, 1915, Mahatma Gandhi visited the college. A few years later on October 9, 1922, Rabindranath Tagore visited the college and said he was pleased with the teaching of Advaita philosophy.
source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Chennai / by B. Sivakumar, TNN / June 27th, 2014
This cave painting depicts men, women and children dancing during a festival | Express
Paintings that are over 3,000 years old, belonging to the Sangam period, showcasing the love and valour of Tamils, were discovered in the Andipatti hills near here on Sunday.
V Narayanamorthy, Secretary of the Tamil Nadu Archaeological Research Institute, and his team came upon the paintings when they were inspecting some caves, west of Andipatti hills.
He said, “The faded paintings have been found in over 10 places in the cave and were painted in white colour using a mixture of limestone, natural gums and herbal extracts.”
One of the paintings shows a group of women carrying pots of water on their heads, while another shows men, women and children dancing together at a festival, holding hands. What’s interesting is that this kind of dance can still be seen in the Paliyar and Puliyar tribal communities, the archaeologists said.
Another picture shows people getting ready to sacrifice a goat for a festival.
The paintings also tell stories—one of an elephant captured and trained, on which the king goes for a ride surrounded by guards. Several scattered paintings depict men, women and tigers and hunts undertaken.
The caves were in frequent use about 2,000 to 3,000 years ago.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Sates> TamilNadu / by Express News Service – Palani / March 04th, 2014
