The Making of the Madras Working Class./ Photo by D. Veeraraghavan / The Hindu
High Court and Napiers Park saw the country’s first May Day celebrations
On the evening of May 1, 1923, as factories across the country were winding down for the day, labourers of Madras city revelled in the first recorded May Day celebrations of the country at Triplicane Beach. Legend has it that it was in the celebrations near Madras High Court and Napiers Park that red flags were first unfurled.
The events which led up to this day reveal a dramatic story which saw the city becoming an arena where volatile class wars were waged.
India’s first organised labour union was born near the Perambur Barracks in the vicinity of the Buckingham and Carnatic Mills of Madras. Selvapathi Chettiar and G. Ramanjalu Naidu, shopkeepers whose shops were patronised by millworkers, on hearing about the appalling working conditions in factories, resolved to form a union.
Providing the historical context, A. Sounderajan, CPI (M) MLA of the Perambur constituency, says, “Workers were treated like slaves in the mills. With the end of the First World War in 1918, the management revoked concessions it had granted for uninterrupted production. Discontent was high but news of the Bolshevik Revolution in Soviet Russia instilled hope.”
The specific incident which propelled action was the plight of a B&C millworker who was left no choice but to soil his work station on being forbidden a break to relieve himself. Outraged at the humiliation meted out to a fellow worker, as many as 10,000 employees of Carnatic mills, Perambur Works and other factories assembled at the Janga Ramayammal Garden at Stathams’ Road in March 1918. TV Kalyanasundara Mudaliyar (Thiru Vi. Ka.) editor of Desa Bakthan, and B.P. Wadia the Parsi theosophist, over the next month, delivered a series of lectures on the need for collective action by labourers. Finally, on April 27 1918, the Madras Labour Union (MLU) was launched with B.P. Wadia as its first president.
B. P Wadia, the first president of the union. / The Hindu
Five years after the first labour union in the country was inaugurated, Singaravelar Chettiar, a labour activist commemorated May Day. Urging Indian labourers to join in the celebrations, he said that the occasion would serve as a source of strength as on this day, workers across the globe would unite in a show of power.
One can only imagine Napiers Park and Triplicane resounding with stirring union sloganeering — Reduce working time! Better Wages! More Leave!
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> Cities> Chennai / by Nitya Menon / Chennai – May 01st, 2014
Supraja Saikumar (right) and Saranya Damodaran. / Photo: M. Srinath / The Hindu
From creating terracotta jewellery for personal use, Supraja and her sister are now teaching the art to others. Vipasha Sinha meets the duo
Terracotta jewellery has found a special place in every woman’s life. It is eco-friendly, colourful and goes with almost everything. Cashing in on the trend are Terracotta sisters who organise regular workshops in T. Nagar.
Supraja P. Sasikumar and Saranya Damodaran learnt the art of terracotta jewellery-making so that they could make their own jewels. Eventually, they decided to teach others the art.
“I’ve always been passionate about jewellery and keep up with the latest fashion. I heard about terracotta jewellery and wanted to learn how to make it. I joined a class three years ago,” says Supraja.
She regularly made jewellery for herself and people always took notice of her accessories.
“Making a piece of jewellery for oneself is different from teaching others. I prepared for three months and my sister helped me out. I am a research scholar and a professor at Adhiparasakthi Engineering College. It is the teaching instinct that led me to do research before starting my classes. Since a year ago, we have been conducting regular classes during the weekends and teaching anyone above the age of eight. We have taught around 350 students,” she says.
At Supraja’s workshop, one can learn to make varieties of studs and jhummkas, anklets and she also teaches how to make Ganesh idols out of terracotta. “The session is inclusive of designing and painting,” she says.
The workshop is held every weekend at 101/35 Bazullah Road, T. Nagar, next to Vivek and Co. For details call 7708752662.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Downtown / by Vipasha Sinha / Chennai – May 01st, 2014
The flowers are a cure for venereal diseases and nervous disorders. / by Special Arrangement / The Hindu
The magnificent punnai trees of the city have several tales to tell
“This is the punnai maram,” pointed out the elder person to the seven-year-old. “It will make your wish come true if you tie a thread around its branch.” We were at the Kapaleeswarar Temple in Mylapore, walking around the old tree next to a small shrine in a courtyard. “You see the figure of the peacock? That is goddess Parvathi worshipping Lord Shiva. Mylapore got its name from this legend — ‘myil’ (peacock) and ‘oor’ (place). The Shiva here is also known as ‘Punnaivananathar’ (lord of the punnai grove). Being the stalavriksha (tree attached to a Hindu temple), she guessed the tree must be as old as the temple itself.
Hymns by the Nayanmars have references to Kapaleeswarar temple, but place it on the seashore. The scholarly view is that the original temple was built on the shore, but was destroyed by the Portuguese, and that this one was built by the Vijayanagar kings in the 16th century. Add to it the fact that ‘Karpagambal’ (the presiding goddess) means ‘Goddess of the wish-yielding tree’, and the age of the punnai tree becomes anybody’s guess.
“It can be witness to surrounding history for more than a hundred years,” said Dr. TD Babu of Nizhal. While punnai is its Tamil name, botanists have named it Calophyllum inophyllum and its common English label is Alexandrian laurel, he said, adding that Punnai is our own coastal tree with a grey or black bark. It grows 12 to 14 metres high, has thick, dark leaves, each with a prominent mid-rib and parallel veins. It spreads by throwing out hard seeds. Its clustered flowers, blooming in winter, are white and fragrant. The punnai’s fruit is spherical with a smooth, greenish-yellow skin.
Some 40 km down ECR, at Thiruvidanthai, inside the compound of the Nithyakalyana Perumal Koil, is another magnificent punnai on a specially-erected platform. The Archaeological Survey of India, which maintains the temple, has put up epigraphical information to show the temple is more than a thousand years old. The priest said that three preceding generations in his family have talked about it. If not the tree itself, its significance goes back much further, or else why would the temple’s pillars have carvings of Krishna dancing on the punnai tree?
The punnai’s seeds are rich in oil (dilo), which was once used to light lamps and lanterns. / by Special Arrangement / The Hindu
The punnai’s seeds are rich in oil (dilo), which was once used to light lamps and lanterns. Dilo oil is believed to cure rheumatism, bruises, ulcers, scabies, and was used as pain reliever for leprosy through intramuscular injection (Dastur 1962). The oil is used to make soap, the fruit yields commercially important gum. The bark has anti-microbial effect, so its decoction is used to wash painless ulcers. The juice is taken internally to stop internal/external bleeding. Snuff from the leaves is believed to relieve giddiness and headache. The leaf extract soothes sore eyes. The flowers are a cure for venereal diseases and nervous disorders. The wood was once used for railway sleepers and in ship-building
“Those who visit the Vaikuntavasa Perumal Temple at Koyembedu must stop to admire the lovely punnai tree there,” Babu said. He put its age at 80. “Trees get value-added as they grow old,” he added. “We must think of them as faunal biodiversity and do everything to preserve them.”
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus / by Geeta Padmanabhan / Chennai – April 30th, 2014
Just opposite the busy Flower Market on Mettupalayam Road are four narrow lanes called the Devangapet Streets. The streets appear to almost be an extension of the commercial main road. Streets are densely populated with garland makers, ceramic tile outlets, hardware stores and bakeries. With two-wheelers and auto stands parked on both sides of all the streets and the connecting bylanes, parking is a nightmare. It is difficult to imagine that these streets were closed to vehicular traffic for years around two to three decades back. These streets were where threads used to weave sarees were woven from cotton and dried on the road.
The streets were named after the community that used to weave these cotton threads —the Devanga Chettiars, a community that migrated from in and around Hampi, within the erstwhile Vijayanagara empire. The Devanga Chettiars were Telugu-speaking people who specialised in hand-weaving threads and saris. “Their cloth was very popular among the North Indian community, especially among people from Rajasthan,” recalls historian Rajesh Govindarajulu. “The cotton was considered very good for turbans,” he says.
This community is considered the people who created the Coimbatore cotton. “They were hard-working and industrial people. They were responsible for the advent of modern textiles 70 to 80 years ago,” says Govindarajulu. “This led to them making a fortune out of it,” he says.
Many in the community continue to manually weave threads, dye them and leave them on the streets to dry. They mainly lived on the four streets forming Devangapet and a few streets on the opposite side like Light House Road, R G Street and Oppannakara Street.
“They used to live on one-storied limestone and roofed houses,” remembers an employee of CSK Tubes, which has been on Devangapet Street for the past 30 years. “We used to know many of the residents living here till they sold their houses away,” he adds. Govindarajulu describes the houses as modest but well-constructed. “They used to have nice large windows, even if the houses were narrow. Many of their houses are considered heritage buildings,” he says. Today, only a handful of them remain. Most have them have converted to two or three-storied concrete buildings or commercial establishments with large frontages.
One of the streets during the 70s was also renamed as the Nanneri Kazhagam Street or the NNK Street. Though no stretches of the road bear the name, a few auto drivers remember that the Devangapet Streets were renamed NNK Street a few years ago. The Nanneri Kazhagam was founded in 1956 by Baburaj to promote Tamil literature. “It started in a small place above a jewellery shop on Big Bazaar Street,” says Perur K Jayaraman, a city historia, adding “We still meet once every month and host an event..”
source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Coimbatore / by Pratiksha Ramkumar, TNN / April 27th, 2014
The Nehru Yuva Kendra and the Muthamizar Tarkappukalai Valarchi Arakkattalai will organise martial arts annual festival in the city on May 25. Various martial art troupes functioning in the state will demonstrate the art forms such as silambam, wrestling, using of weapons, body building etc. Each troupe will be allotted thirty minutes time for displaying and demonstrating the martial arts.
The objective of the programme to create awareness among the common people on the martial arts of the State, motivate the troupes practising martial arts and provide them a platform to display their talent. Interesting troupes could register with the Arakkatalai on or before May 5. For details, they can call 9442610605, a press release of K. Chandrasekar, managing trustee of the Arakkattalai, here said.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> Cities> Tiruchirapalli / by Special Correspondent / Tiruchi – April 27th, 2014
A rather confused reader, L.A. Rajendra sent me a letter shortly before May Day wondering who really had started the first trade union in Madras. He’d heard of at least four claimants to that honour and was thoroughly confused by not only these claims but also by the different stories circulating about those beginnings.
In fact, I’ve heard six names mentioned, Annie Besant and Ramanujalu Naidu were the additions to Rajendra’s four: M. Singaravelar Chetty, B.P. Wadia, G. Selvapathy Chetty and Thiru Vi Kalyanasundaram Mudaliar. But as far as I can gather, the story goes like this.
Singaravelar Chetty / by Special Arrangement / The Hindu
Selvapathy Chetty, a small businessman, took over a sabha his father was running and moved it to D’Mellow’s Road, Perambur, alongside the Buckingham & Carnatic Mills campus, where it was converted into a club of sorts. Moving on from religious discourses and bhajan singing that the sabha had originally offered, it began offering lectures by eminent personalities on a variety of current topics. Then, during the Great War, there were daily discussions on the progress of the war and what it all meant to India. A large number in the audience were mill workers and, before and after meetings, they would pour out tales of woe about the happenings in the mills to Selvapathy Chetty and his friend and fellow trader Ramanujalu Naidu. The two helped many of the workers to write petitions to the management, but, gradually, as they got more involved with the problems of the workers, they began to feel that something formal needed to be organised to negotiate with the mills’ management for the amelioration of the harsh working conditions.
On March 2, 1918, the two organised a public meeting near the mills where several speakers addressed a 10,000-strong audience, mainly of mill workers. Philosophical and religious themes, as advertised, were the subjects of all the speakers bar one, whose topic had only been whispered about. Thiru Vi Kalyanasundaram (ThiruViKa) forcefully urged them to form a trade union; that would be the only way they would get fair treatment, he had argued.
Selvapathy and Ramanujalu next went to meet Annie Besant of New India and invited her to address a meeting where the union would be inaugurated. She was unavailable but B.P. Wadia, her colleague, was. With Wadia presiding, a mammoth meeting was held on April 27, 1918 in Perambur at which the formation of the Madras Labour Union (MLU) was announced. Wadia was its first President, Selvapathy and Ramanujalu its first General Secretaries and ThiruViKa, Sella Guruswamy Chettiar and Dewan Bahadur Kesavapillai it first Vice Presidents. The Union survives to this day.
It has been claimed that this was the first trade union in India. This claim is perhaps in the context that it is still in existence, its name unchanged, and was formed as an organisation in rather formal circumstances. A year earlier, a union had been formed by mill workers in Ahmadabad, but from reports I’ve heard, it did not survive for long nor did it have a formal structure.
As far as the MLU is concerned, if I had to pick a founder, I would choose Selvapathy and Ramanujalu as its joint founders, though from what I’ve heard the latter would have most likely given the honour to the former.
Singaravelar was undoubtedly a fellow-traveller with this group when it came to trade unionism, but he was more a political figure. He was associated with the Congress Party, but broke with it over differences with Gandhiji, and, on May 1, 1923, at what was then the High Court Beach and Triplicane Beach, he announced the formation of his Labour Kisan Party of Hindustan and wanted May 1st declared a holiday. And, so, May Day, International Workers’ Day, came to India thanks to Singaravelar. He next helped form the Communist Party of India (CPI) over whose founding he presided in 1925. Then he broke with the Communists and became associated with the Self-Respect Movement and its overtones of Dravidian politics.
But thereafter, with age catching up, he gradually faded from the political scene, though maintaining an interest in all the causes he had espoused.
*****
An architect’s story
My quest for information about J.R. Davis of Prynne, Abbott and Davis (Miscellany, April 21) brought me much information from P.T. Krishnan, who had a latter day connection with a successor firm, and a rather rude phone call from a reader who refused to send me his information in writing, which is the only way I like it as I am averse to long telephone calls that necessitate taking notes I’m hard put to later decipher.
From what Krishnan and I have been able to piece together, it would seem Prynne, Abbott and Davis (PAD) had its beginnings in one of the first firm of architects in Madras, Jackson and Barker, who set up practice around 1922. They were responsible for converting the Spencer’s-owned Connemara Hotel’s building, that at the time resembled something better suited to a forest lodge, into a then modern hotel building that reflected a classical art deco style. The remodelled Connemara opened in 1937 to rave reviews. Today’s façade and much of the main block are what Jackson and Barker bequeathed to the Connemara.
Shortly before World War II, H.F. Prynne took over Jackson and Barker when the partners were planning to return to the U.K. Prynne, curiously, was no architect; he was the Governor’s ADC. And his first architectural work, so to speak, was to convert the stables of his house on College Road into his firm’s offices. He was joined by Abbott and Davis. It is stated that Abbott never took his place with the firm, passing away during his journey to India. When Prynne went back to England in the early 1950s, Davis stayed on and ran the firm till the 1960s, when Kiffin-Petersen and Bennett Pithavadian (whose father changed his name from Fenn to Pithavadian), who had worked for the firm, took it over. Amongst the best buildings PAD designed were the University of Madras’s Library and Teaching (Clock Tower) Block and the Centenary Building, both raised in harmony with Senate House. If Abbott never made it to Madras, the bespectacled person explaining the Centenary Building’s model to Prime Minister Nehru in my 1957 picture today must have been Davis, though the University has named him as Abbott in a caption it has used. Davis was also responsible for the Bombay Mutual Building and Dare House on N.S.C. Bose Road.
The Davis-Nehru picture of 1957. / by Special Arrangement / The Hindu
Another noteworthy building the firm did design was Adyar Villa in Kotturpuram, the assignment for his home being given to it by M.A. Chidambaram, who was a good friend of Davis. The design, however, was by Kiffin-Petersen, an Australian, who favoured the Spanish villa style that Florida’s Palm Beach had made famous in the 1930s. Many of the corporate houses in the Boat Club area too were designed by him. Davis returned to England in the early 1960s before construction of Adyar Villa started and the building was raised during the Petersen-Pithavadian partnership that succeeded Davis.
When Kiffin-Petersen left Madras in the late 1960s, Prynne, Abbott and Davis was taken over by Pithavadian who ran it as a proprietorship. Then, in 1972, he took in partners and renamed the firm Pithavadian & Partners. Of Pithavadian Krishnan, who had worked with him, says, “A McGill University, Canada, graduate, he was a modernist more concerned with the problems of a poor country and used his civil engineering skills to produce functional and economical buildings. He won the President’s Gold Medal for the design of a low-cost house during the early years of his practice.” Later, however, he was responsible for another type of landmark in Madras, the IOB Building, “the first highrise in Madras responding to principles of designing for the tropics.”
I’d be glad to hear from my caller who prefers telephone-chat to writing if he has anything more to add to this — provided he sends it in duly written.
*****
When the postman knocked…
– A copy of Ravenshaw’s 1822 map of Madras is with P.T. Krishnan and, he tells me, the five boundary pillars of the second esplanade, the one beyond the New Town Wall (Miscellany, April 14), are marked on it. Only, the present site of the Washermenpet Police Station is nowhere near where the boundary marker is shown on that map. The plaque had obviously been moved, as I had conjectured. Krishnan also tells me that the boundary markers also indicate on the map the boundaries of Royapuram, Tondiavoodu (Tondiarpet) and Washermenpet. Three paths led out of gates in the Wall and crossed the esplanade. These paths became, from west to east, Tiruvottriyur High Road, Monegar Choultry Road, and Mannarsamy Koil Street. Their gates, I reckon, would have respectively been what were called Ennore Gate, Trivatore Gate and Pully Gate. I look forward to more details of this area from Krishnan.
– Dr. R.V. Rajan (Miscellany, April 21), writes Dr. P.S. Venkateswaran, had studied to become a surgeon and went to England where he got his FRCS, but got interested in Venereology and became an internationally recognised expert on the subject. Dr. K.S. Sanjivi, who was part of Dr. RVR’s intellectual circle, retired as Professor of Medicine and was awarded the Padma Bhushan. But in what must be a unique record, Dr. Sanjivi’s brothers, Prof. K. Swaminathan and Dr. K. Venkat Raman, were also awarded the same honour. Swaminathan, Professor of English at Presidency College, turned to journalism after he retired and then became the Chief Editor of the 90-volume Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi. Dr. Venkat Raman retired as the Director of the National Chemical Laboratory. As for Dr. RVR, as already mentioned, he went on to become the first Indian Dean of the Madras Medical College, but, points out Dr. Venkateswaran, it was a designation that came into being after the term ‘Superintendent’ had been done away with. Two Indians had served as Superintendents, Col. Pandalai and Dr. Sangam Lal. Dr. Rajam lived on G.N. Chetty Road in a house that has now given way to Ankur Plaza. As was the vogue those days, it was “a sort of semi-circular house (art deco?) with many doors. Dr. Rangachary’s house had 16 doors; Dr. Rajam had fewer.”
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus> Society / Madras Miscellany / by S. Muthiah / Chennai – May 04th, 2014
Music technology has indeed come a long way. / Photos: Desikan Krishnan, V.V. Krishnan, AP and Vipinchandran. / The Hindu
From the humble gramophone to iTunes and MP4, music technology has come a long way.
My earliest recollection of listening to recorded music is that of a strange looking contraption with a brassy and shiny loud-speaker mounted on it, churning out a crackling version of a Carnatic melody (kriti) by one Kanchipuram Dhanakoti who would sign off the three-and-a-half minute song, raucously announcing her name. Well, that was the custom then!
This was soon replaced by a better looking and more compact box with its speaker built in and a neat looking turn-table that worked on an optimum speed (78 RPM) only if it were wound enough by a special lever which resembled the manual-starter of a truck. A circular disc made of vinyl would be placed on the turn-table and it would be activated by a spindle at the top with a stylus (subject to change once in a while) that coursed over its grainy surface and generated the music much to our delight and wonder!
The image of a dog peering into the loudspeaker with curiosity later became a popular brand mnemonic – “His Master’s Voice” – for The Gramophone Co. of India.
Those were the days when the high-pitched voices of S.G. Kittappa, Ariyakkudi Ramanuja Iyengar, M.K. Thyagaraja Bhagavathar and Dandapani Desikar ruled the roost on 78 RPM vinyl. T. N. Rajarathnam’s three-and-a half minute capsule of Thodi was breathtaking, to say the least. When Long Playing records (LP’s) and Extended Play (45 RPM) followed the 78 RPM, there was a veritable explosion of various genres of music that entered our homes. Remember Saraswathi Stores on Mount Road where everybody who wanted to buy records homed in on with regularity?
While there was the haunting voice of Ustad Abdul Karim Khan surprisingly singing ‘Rama Ni Samana’ in Kharahapriya (unbelievable, but the recording is still available) and Veena Dhanammal’s dulcet fingers floated over a seemingly fretless veena to thrill the connoisseurs of Hindustani and Carnatic music respectively, the younger generation (which included yours truly then) began to get LPs of Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra from the world of Pop, and Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong straight, so to speak, from the smoke-filled bars of New Orleans.
A remarkable change in the world of storing and delivering music took place when the spool recorder made its first appearance in Japan and later took India by storm. The AKAI-M 10 (if I vaguely recall the model) became a household name and a status symbol for those who wanted to swing in with the times and display it in their living rooms. Catering to a higher segment, the tape recorder, armed with four tracks, boasted the capacity to bring home several hours of Carnatic music concerts, long-drawn symphonies of Beethoven, jazz standards ranging from Thelonious Monk and Miles Davis to Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, not to forget the complete repertoire of the golden oldies, Mohammed Rafi, Mukesh and Talat Mehmood, and ghazals of Begum Akthar.
But Man’s thirst for innovation soon put paid to the rule of the cumbersome Tape Recorder. The entry of Compact Cassettes into the world of Recorded Music was a remarkable phenomenon making it possible for music to go wherever he wanted it to and allowing him to manipulate its flow in whichever sequence he desired. One thrilled to the idea of having a small package of invaluable music tucked away in one’s pocket. (At a later point of time, history would repeat itself when the pen-drive captured much more music within its tiny frame!).
The advent of a slew of Japanese models flaunting two-in-ones (tuner plus recorder) made it possible to record music easily on cassettes and play them at leisure. The versatility of cassettes made them extremely popular and the music industry witnessed an unprecedented boom with enormous popular appeal. One vividly recalls how NRIs would swoop down on Sankara Hall on Mowbrays Road and other exhibition halls to pick up cassettes in baskets!
Teenagers had the pleasure of listening to Elvis Presley and the Beatles at home while those of ‘sterner’ stuff could switch over to Jimmy Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison in the privacy of their “pads”! My prized collection of cassettes of Jean Luc Ponty and Stephane Grappelli demonstrated how international fusion could be churned out on violins by those virtuosos even in the early 1990s!
As a jolly bachelor in Calcutta, I spent lazy Sunday afternoons at home with my friends, quaffing generous draughts of beer and listening to popular tracks from Abba (“Hasta Manhana”), Osibisa and Boney M (“Ma Baker” and “Daddy Cool”) on my heavy-duty Aiwa!
Came the moment when EPs and LPs, packaged tantalisingly in colourful jackets and fighting a losing battle for shelf space, finally took a bow and graciously allowed cassettes to step into the limelight. During this metamorphosis, a soft interim entry by Laser Discs did make some ripples but the fiery momentum set up by the flow of cassettes drove them away without much ado. So too did Cartridges with a short life-span.
The recording industry appears to be a cruel and relentless one with no regard for their star players; thanks to a slew of new products being researched and finally churned out by the ever pioneering software industry, CDs and MP4 players have wiped out cassettes from the field of play just as cassettes did to LPs earlier.
Music lovers, saddled with thousands of cassettes collected and recorded with passion over many years and hours of night-long recording sessions, are today left with a treasure-trove but with no takers! The next generation is ‘cool’ with its pen-drive, iPod and Smart Phones. Apple and Bose are there to cater for those who can afford them. A neat and tidy hard disc back-up unit takes care of all their music, apart from their study notes and other papers!
Cassettes and cassette players are no longer being manufactured and it is a Herculean task to get the old ones repaired at Electronics Repairers who are preoccupied with more sophisticated equipment. Cosmic, Norge and Nakamichi Cassette Decks, once a part of the prized accoutrements, are now perhaps a mere memory!
The initial enthusiasm that drove many to several outlets in Chennai to transfer their musical treasure from cassettes to CDs has evaporated of late since the portents are indicative of CDs themselves being eased out by music files, MP4 players and through downloads from various sources, not to mention retail points such as Giri Trading Co., Mylapore, building up of one’s own library on Real Player and, of course, tapping into the inexhaustible sources of YouTube, I-tune Stores, non-stop Radio Stations and music-centric websites on the Internet.
One is reminded of a clairvoyant advertising tycoon who prophesied a decade ago at an Asian Advertising Congress that one day, not too far away, each home will be equipped with just One Black Box that will use a convergent digital technology to incorporate all the elements of Voice, Video, Text and Graphics delivering all forms of Information, Communication and Audio-Visual Entertainment. Beware, Apple and Microsoft are already at it!
It looks like we are almost there!
(vkalidas@gmail.com)
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Friday Review / by V. Kalidas / Chennai – April 25th, 2014
Here are some of the responses to the article ‘Channels change, Music Continues…’ (FR, April 25) written by V. Kalidas.
Your article transported this 80-year-old man to his school days. At home, we had a phonograph box which my aunties called ‘poonaikkara petti.’ We had a rare collection of old records of Carnatic music. With the arrival of the radio in our home, the phonograph fell into disuse. Even today, I regret destroying those shellac record discs, dipping them into hot water and fashioning art plates out of them.
Later, as a high school student, I used to assist my uncle who had an agency selling His Master’s Voice and Columbia phonograph records obtained from Calcutta and Madras. These were made of a compound of black shellac and were prone to breakage and damage and ended up with scratchy needle noise with repeated use.
Vinyl records were not commercially produced in India until my uncle went out of that business in the 1960s. I distinctly remember receiving a thin vinyl recording from the ‘Voice of America’ containing a couple of minutes of an American President’s speech.
Now, an iPad with ear phones, loaded with vintage Carnatic fare, is my walking companion, courtesy my grandsons. Times have changed…
V.Thiruvengadanathan
Madurai
The article on the technological changes in the delivery of music during the past decades is interesting. This was possible because, at every stage, the consumer was willing to invest in new hardware – gramophone, spool player, cassette player, CD player and MP3 player…
By contrast, the newspaper industry persists in the century-old practice of putting ink on paper and delivering it at the doorsteps of the consumer, this last-mile connectivity too becoming progressively more expensive.
Today’s technology allows wireless transmission of the newspaper that can be received by the consumer on his tablet. The day is not far off when printed newspapers (and magazines) will become financially non-viable since other cheaper options are opening up for advertisers too. The newspaper industry has to think ahead and brace itself for this change.
K.S. Ramakrishnan
By email
I enjoyed reading your article; it brought back memories of the 1940s. HMV with their dog and the Megaphone took me back to old Nair tea shops and the sudden slowing down of the RPM (the boy would say, ‘Sariya key kudukkillai’). Then there was the Saraswathi Stores in the neighborhood of the now demolished Globe Theatre and the Wellington. Of course, Md. Ebrahim (replaced by VGP) brings back warm memories regarding Western Music.
There was one other store in George Town opposite the Madras High Court. Forget its name! Among the tape recorders, Grundig & Telefunken was also popular.
‘Old man’ Cheema
Chennai
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Friday Review> Music / Mailbox / Chennai – May 01st, 2014
Special Arrangement The measures found on one of the walls of the Thanjavur Big temple. / Photo: Sri Gokul Seshadri / by Special Arrangement / The Hindu
How many are familiar with weights and measures such as Kuzhi, Maa, Veli and Muntiri that were used in olden days?
(A monthly column that unravels fascinating facts about heritage, art and architecture, this one throws light on measurements used in medieval period)
Writing in the 19th Century, a British official complained, “the number of viss in a maund differs in a bewildering way, both according to local custom and to the substance which is being weighed… a ‘measure,’ is a most varying quantity – any old compressed beef tin of any size passes as a measure, if you will accept it. The only way is to get accustomed to your providers’ peculiarities and pay accordingly.” The same traveller would be surprised if he was in the medieval Tamil Nadu! Weights and measures from inscriptions are complex. They vary with region, dynasty and many kings created their own!
Different calculations
Weights and measures are frequently found in inscriptions that deal with gifts of land and produce to temples. The Chola and Pandya territories seemed to have had different measures but with many local variations. Some calculations can be made.
Land was measured in Kuzhi – which was one rod in length and one rod in width. Three Kuzhi made aMaa. 20 Maa made a Veli (sometimes called Sey as well). A Maa approximates to 33 cents. Because a rod length varied it’s difficult to say that a Veli in one part of the state was the same elsewhere. 1/80 of a Veli made a Kani and 1/320 of a Veli made a muntiri. Smaller land fractions went to as low as 2.81 sq.ft. Such small fractions were useful since land was taxed not just by spread but fertility as well. By colonial times, a Veli was equal to 6.6116 acres.
Grain was measured as eight Naazhi that made a pucca padi or a pattanam padi in the Pandya country. Surprisingly in Thanjavur, eight Naazhi made only half that quantity and was called a china padi. Amarakkal was used to measure grain. A Nerai Naazhi approximated to a little less than a kilo, possibly 850-900gms.
Gold and gems had a separate calculation. One gold kasu (coin) was four kunrimani (a seed). TwoKunrimani made a manjadi and 20 manjadi made a kalanju. 2.5 kalanju made a sovereign of pre-independence proportions, around eight grams today.
Land measures are most commonly encountered. Several temples such as those in Kanchipuram (Varadaraja temple), Srirangam and others have alavu kols – lines etched into the stone wall that are a measure for land. These come in varying lengths, 12, 16, sometimes even 18 ft. The ends are differentiated with a zig zag or some decorative feature, and the alavu kol, usually has a name to it. Raja Raja called his, Adavallan after the Chola tutelary deity Nataraja of Chidambaram. These measures continued even in the 19th centuries, temples in the Pudukottai district have such measures from the reigns of the Sethupathis. The Kols were based on a human span – (chaan) or a foot (adi). A rod was named after the number of spans and feet it comprised. 16 span rods were most common but mostly in the northern districts. Foot rods become more popular in the 12th century. The 18 foot rod was more popular in the Pandya country. We have evidence of land surveys being conducted during the reigns of Raja Raja I and Kulotunga and Jatavarman Sundara Pandya I in the 11-13th centuries. The person responsible for it, being honoured with the title “Ulagalanda” or one who surveyed the world.
In the 18th century, the documents in the Thanjavur Sarasvati Mahal library give us insights into the measures of that period. One Manjadi was 260 mg, One kalanju was 5.2 gms, One tank was One gm, One tola was 2.9 gms, One palam was 35 gms, Oneseer was 280 gms and One marakkal was three Kg. 12tolas made One palam (35 gm), eight palams made One seer (280 gm), five seers made One veesai (One kg and 400 gm), eight veesai made One manangu (11 kg and 200 gm), 40 manangu made One baram(448 kg).
In another system prevalent in the Maratha times One padi made 750 gm and four padis made Onemarakkal (three kg). This was used mostly for agriculture produce. Land was measured by a rod fourteen feet in length. 20 maa made one veli (6.5 Acres). 100 kuzhi made a maa. The Marathas also had taank (rhyming with ‘Monk’). One tola (three gm), in 1820, made three taank, whereas in 1780, One tola was equal to One taank. Gold and silver had a separate system. One kunrimani made 13.3 mg, two kunrimani made One manjadi (26.6 mg), 20 manjadi made One kalanju (5.320 mg), 60 kunrimanimade One poun (7.98 gm).
During the colonial times, measures included One padi, ½ padi and ¼ padi. Two aazhakku made ¼padi. ½ and aazhaku was a Veechampadi. Another unit was a Maakani. In Kumbakonam a ½ padi was a chinna padi. In many places down south liquids were sold as a Chombu– about 1/4th padi. Old timers still remember these units and can swiftly calculate and convert without modern devices – perhaps in some ways modern technology has made us mentally less agile!
(The writer can be contacted at pradeepandanusha@gmail.com)
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Friday Review> History & Culture / Stone Speak / by Pradeep Chakravarthy / Chennai – April 24th, 2014
The leafy Kakkan Street in Shenoy Nagar here is an exception as most city streets are devoid of greenery. The neem tree-lined street is notable for big bungalows beside it. The street, which is named after dalit and Congress leader P Kakkan (1905-1981), runs parallel to Vaidynatha Iyer Street which is named after the social reformer who led the dalits into Meenakshi temple.
Kakkan, who was Iyer’s disciple, belonged to Thumbaipatti near Melur. He was minister for home affairs, agriculture and public works in K Kamaraj’s government. He was instrumental in constructing dams like Vaigai and establishing agricultural colleges across the state. Kakkan retired from politics after losing the assembly election in 1967. He is remembered for his austerity and integrity. He didn’t accumulate wealth and died a poor man.
Kakkan’s younger brother P Vadivelu (79) recalled an incident from his life. “When Kamaraj was collecting funds for the 1962 Sino-India War, Kakkan took me to the podium and asked me to donate my gold chain,” he said. Jawaharlal Nehru had awarded Vadivelu that gold chain for winning a medal in an athletic meet. “Kakkan never used his political clout for his personal gain nor for the benefit of family members. It is difficult to find such a person these days,” Vadivelu commented. When the then chief minister M G Ramachandran found him in a general ward of the Government Rajaji Hospital, Kakkan refused to be moved to a special ward, though MGR requested for it.
Recalling the relationship between Iyer and Kakkan, Vadivelu said that it is fitting that two parallel roads are named after them. Kakkan was like an adopted son of Iyer. “When Iyer died in 1955, Kakkan tonsured his head as a sign of mourning,” he recalled. Kakkan also served as the warden of dalit student hostel Sevalaya at Shenoy Nagar. It was started due to the efforts of Iyer.
N Pandurangan, a 77-year-old veteran Congress party worker, said that the street was named after Kakkan while he was alive. “Kakkan was a noted leader and worked in Sevalaya. In those days, places used to be named after persons even when they were alive unlike today’s custom of naming posthumously,” Pandurangan, said.
The office of the Press Information Bureau is a landmark on Kakkan Street.
source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> City> Madurai / by J. Arockiaraj, TNN / April 20th, 2014
