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Serving the taste of the Tamil land

The Pongal festival celebrated as a community event / The Hindu
The Pongal festival celebrated as a community event
/ The Hindu

Terrain and climate have endowed Tamil land with a unique culinary culture. Geetha Venkataramanan captures the essence.

‘Unavae marundhu, marundhae unavu’ – this sums up Tamil food, rather food consumed south of Asia from the ancient days. Traditional food and recipes are catching the attention of the health conscious even as the so called convenient and fast food have made inroads into lifestyle.

The presentation that C.P. Ramaswamy Iyer Foundation had organised recently in Chennai came as a timely reminder not only of the wealth that Tamil Nadu has in terms of food but the history and culture behind the treasure. The speakers – Kausalya Santhanam, Bhaktavatsala Bharati and Viji Varadarajan – took the audience through the Tamil land’s rich (vegetarian) food heritage spanning thousands of years.

Kausalya Santhanam.
Kausalya Santhanam.

The humble idli, eminently suitable for all ages (thanks to steam preparation), did not after all originate here, said Kausalya, who acknowledged Dr. K.T. Achaya as her source. It has its roots in Indonesia, where it was called ‘kedli,’ the chefs accompanying the kings of that country bringing with them the methods of fermentation. The staple food of the South Indians finds mention in Manasollasa, the 12 century encyclopaedia. Dosai and aappam find mention in Sangam literature.

The five divisions of land as Marudham, Kurinji, Paalai, Mullai and Neidhal have high value in Tamil literature with the people and the chieftains leading lives as dictated by the nature of the terrain in which they lived.

Sangam literature attributes distinctive characteristics to the denizens of each region. Geography decided the occupation of the people, which in turn reflected in the food they ate.

Rice figured in ancient Tamil literature, that which was stored for three years considered premium. Guess what Brahmins ate? Curd rice and mango pickle! Rice roasted on hot sand was a favourite snack.Pathupattu sings of salt exchanged for rice. All, including women consumed alcoholic beverages, toddy being the most common.

Sesame oil (nallennai) and coconut oil find mention in Naaladiyar and Divya Prabhandam. While references to turmeric and pepper are plenty, conspicuous by its absence is mustard. How was food seasoned then, one wonders.

In recent history, the Maratha rulers had several kitchens, so elaborate was the cooking drawn from various cuisines.

Bhaktavatsala Bharathy
Bhaktavatsala Bharathy

It was the Kurinji (hills) people, who discovered fire to cook meat, informed Bhaktavatsala Bharati. Mullai (pastoral) people, basically farmers, took to boiling and frying was a technique adopted by the people of Marudham and Neidhal (seashore). He went on to say that ancient Tamil has 13 terms to refer to food, Una, undi, agaaram, for example.

There were 209 sub-cultures and as many food practices. Eating, he said, was a social act. Food was meant to be shared. Quite understandable, hospitality being the hallmark of the Tamils. The concept of sharing is behind the act of Koozh vaarthal, an activity so common in Amman temples (annadanamcould be an echo of this custom) and which transcends the rural-urban divide. The haves and have-nots found a common ground here. Grains were collected and the porridge made to be distributed among the villagers. Mayanakollai also is based on the same concept, he said. The temple figured as a place of refuge and solace, where the local community gathered. The temple kitchen is therefore as sacred as the sanctum, he observed.

Water was brought from the Cauvery delta to quench the thirst of pilgrims, who trekked to Palani (Kurinji), to participate in the famous Panguni Uthiram festival happening in March, when the weather is hot. The generosity was reciprocated by the Nattukottai Chettiar community that carried jaggery during Thai Poosam, January being a cooler month and the sweet would give warmth in the hilly region!

Yet another point to underline how food and eating were community-based. Bharati made the interesting observation that the woman was the first farmer, her tool being the trident (soolam). It has always fallen upon the women to feed the family, a trait that can be traced back a thousand years and more. What better way than to dig the soil and sow seeds for long-term benefit?

Food united communities and flavours differed although the same ingredients were used.

Viji Varadarajan
Viji Varadarajan

Viji Varadarajan explained how food was classified according to three qualities – tamas, sattva and rajas, the middle one preferred by Brahmins, especially the priestly class. This accounted for the absence of garlic and onion in their preparations. The components that go into a typical sambar have medicinal properties that cannot be ignored, she said.

Author of several cook books, Viji literally led the audience through the hills and plains of the South, where the Kongu, Vellala, Chettinad, Kannada, Andhra and Kerala communities tossed and tweaked ingredients to offer recipes unique to their belts.

To the modern refrain of eat millets, Viji’s answer was: “Yes, millets are healthy and nutritious. But it is best to continue with what one grew up with. Only mind the portions.”

Globalisation opened all the doors, food being no exception. Fast recipes and takeaways have reduced the time spent in the kitchen. Teach children the importance of traditional food, which alone can keep modern day’s diseases at bay, Bhaktavatsala pleaded. Can across the counter delicacies offer ‘Ammavin kaimanam’ that comes with so much love and concern? Kausalya’s question was of course rhetoric.

When Masterchef shows are popular, it is most appropriate that C.P. Ramaswamy Foundation chose to whet the appetite for traditional cuisine, which never considered food and health as two different things.

The taste buds were taken into account too, as the delicious sweet thinaipongal offered at the start indicated.

For details email, Bhaktavatsala Bharati: bharathianthro@gmail.com; Viji Varadarajan: vrnalini@gmail.com; Kausalya Santhanam: kausalyas16@gmail.com.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Friday Review / by Geetha Venkataraman / May 13th, 2016

Seven villages & a cluster of garden houses

bhattCF10may2016

When Ramana Bhat, a vedic scholar from Udupi, wanted to migrate to the Madras Presidency along with his six children in the early 1900s after a severe drought hit Dakshina Kannada region, Egmore was his immediate choice. Egmore, derived from Elambore, which means seven villages in Tamil, was mostly filled with government employees from the brahmin community. They lived in single storey houses hidden amidst thick vegetation, and worked in government offices lodged in majestic Indo-Saracenic buildings.

Bhat’s was one of the first seven families that shifted base to Madras. Having witnessed the migration of many families driven out of their soil by drought over the next few months, Bhat’s household wanted to serve their community in some way. This is when their experience in the temples and its kitchens in Udupi came in handy.

Two of Bhat’s sons Shyam Bhat and Hari Bhat started Udupi Sri Krishna Bhavan, one of the earliest vegetarian hotels, on Hall’s Road, Egmore. Over the years, it grew to be a popular landmark in the area and was rechristened as Udipi Home.

“In 1955, we were the first to have an air-conditioner in a standalone restaurant in the city,” said 46-year-old Ram Bhat, son of Hari Bhat, who now runs Udupi Home, which now includes lodging and a restaurant named Mathsya. Bhat said although there was a sizeable north Indian population in the area, there was no restaurant catering to them. “We were among the first to introduce north Indian cuisine in our menu,” he said. Cold drinking water, a luxury in the 60s and 70s, was sold for five paise.

The restaurant boasts of several celebrities who were regulars before they went on to become big names. The Amritraj brothers boosted their energy with a generous glass of badam kheer every day after tennis practice in the 1970s at the stadium nearby, which is now the Mayor Radhakrishnan stadium. MG Ramachandran too was a fan of the kheer.

“Actors Nasser, ‘Thalaivasal’ Vijay and director Selva worked at our restaurant as stewards,” Bhat recalled. But the owners of the more than a century-old hotel, valued some of their little known customers, who had been their regulars for many years and wanted to honour them. Hence came ‘P J Uthappam’, named after a Prashanth Jain, and ‘Pistah milkshake Pal’s Special’ after a Palaniappan. Both had been customers for four decades. Egmore was, however, more than just the food empire built by the Bhat family. With public halls built during the British Era for entertainment, Egmore has always been a self-contained locality.

The Egmore station had a special feature. Cars could go up to the platform so that passengers could get off and board the trains from there, said Ram Bhat.

“The Egmore museum and the art gallery were our regular spot for playing hide-and-seek. After playing, we would spend our time watching the train pass by in the level crossing near Gengu Reddy subway,” recalled 55-year-old S Lakshminarayanan, a resident of Sait Colony, Egmore. The Cooum was one of the major transportation routes.

Students from Presidency College would take the rowing boats to reach the campus from Egmore. The women had lived life that revolved much beyond the realms of their family. They started an NGO ‘Kamala Nehru Madhar Sangam’ engaging the kids to collect donation to educate the underprivileged children.

“The locality had everything. Unfortunately, it has also become a victim of crass commercialization.There are barely few houses in the locality now,” said Lakshminarayanan.

source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / News Home> City> Chennai / by U. Tejonmayam / TNN / May 06th, 2016

Generations on a Gamely Gallop

Polo players Abhimanyu (left) and M Buchi Prakash Rao | R Satish Babu
Polo players Abhimanyu (left) and M Buchi Prakash Rao | R Satish Babu

To revive polo in Chennai, M Buchi Prakash is scouting for land where the Buchi Babu family plans to open a riding school and train youngsters in the sport. “I have a licence for importing horses from New Zealand, which I did earlier, and had 12 stables,” says Buchi Prakash, a polo player, who first took a team to Bombay in 1971 and won the Silver Stick in the All India Polo Tournament at the age of 21. He intends to open the academy by September.

Buchi Prakash is also a six-time winner of the Kolanka C up, which was donated by the raja of Kolanka. The six-foot-tall cup is made of pure silver and is listed in the Guinness Book of Records as “the world’s largest trophy”. He also won polo matches in 18 countries, including playing against the Sultan of Brunei. The equestrian says he learnt the scientific techniques of the game from Prem Singh, the erstwhile maharaja of Jodhpur, but is a self-taught polo player.

Malavika Prakash Rao | Vinod Kumar T
Malavika Prakash Rao | Vinod Kumar T

Buchi Prakash’s daughter, Florida-born Malavika Prakash Rao, followed in his footsteps. “My exposure to horses and riding began at the age of two,” says the 40-year-old with a laugh. “I later trained under Savanth saheb, the riding instructor in the Madras Polo and Riders Club from the age of six.” Frequent trips to Chennai enabled her to pursue her sports activities. Later, in 1993, realising her passion for horses and riding prompted her to enroll in the Water Stock house Training centre in Oxfordshire in England to train in dressage and stable management.

After her graduation from the Academy of Arts in San Francisco, she moved to Bengaluru in 2010 and joined the Embassy International Riding School. She participated in dressage competitions and won many. In 2015, Malavika won the 11th place, competing with international riders. “The club hosts competitions for six months a year for horse jumping and dressage,” she explains.

Malavika comes from a long line of sportspersons. “Polo is more a masculine game, which has come down to us from the Persians and was taken seriously by the royal families in India. I always stood in when a player could not make it to the polo match,” she says. She also plays tennis.

Malavika’s great great grandfather Modavarapu Venkatamahipati Nayudu, or Buchi Babu, was a great Madras sportsman in the 1880s and 1890s. He founded the Madras United Club and owned the sprawling Luz House. He had 21 stables.

Malavika’s great granduncles Baliah and Ramaswami were cricketers in the 1930s, and were famous for breaking the clock of the Presidency College clock tower with their sixes. They played in the Ranji Trophy. Ramaswami’s tennis feats in Cambridge earned him the Cambridge Tennis Blues and a place in the Davis Cup team. He played international doubles with M J Gopalan.

Buchi Prakash’s father M V Prakash, who began his sports career with cricket, tennis and golf, ended up playing polo and won the South India Gold Vaz Award in 1955 and the Kolanka Cup in 1960. He also won many tennis tournaments in Madras Gymkhana Club in 1945.

Malavika’s brother Abhimanyu carries the family tradition by playing polo and won the Kolanka cup in 1997.

Youngest of Buchi Prakash’s brood is 32-year-old Kadambari, a swimmer. “My grandfather used to swim three kilometres every day. Even though we were encouraged to play different of sports, I was fascinated by swimming,” she says. “We learnt to ride as children. Our day began at 5.30 am with my father drilling us “toes up, heels down, but my heart was in swimming”. She won the state Masters Swimming Champion Meet in Chennai in 2012, and in 2013, she won three golds and a silver at the Indore National Aquatic Meet.

SPORT IN THEIR GENES

■ Malavika comes from an ancestry of a long line of polo players

■ Her great grand uncles Baliah and Ramaswami were cricketers in the 1930s

■ Her great, great grandfather, Modavarapu Venkatamahipati Nayadu, founded the Madras United club, owned the sprawling Luz House and had 21 stables

source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Magazine / by Uma B alasubramaniam / May 07th, 2016

The Life Story of a Neurosurgeon

TRAILBLAZER: Consultant Neurosurgeon Dr.M.J. Arun Kumar, who is also the Founder Chairman & Managing Director of Hannah Joseph Hospital, Madurai. Photo: S. James
TRAILBLAZER: Consultant Neurosurgeon Dr.M.J. Arun Kumar, who is also the Founder Chairman & Managing Director of Hannah Joseph Hospital, Madurai. Photo: S. James

He finds joy in handling emergencies. He can be up all night reviving trauma patients. SOMA BASU talks to Dr.M.J.Arunkumar, the man who literally gets inside people’s heads

When seasoned actor Nasser’s son Faisal met with a gruesome road accident on ECR Road, Chennai, two summers ago, it made headlines. The horrific car crash left three young boys dead and inflicted grievous injuries on two others. On May 22, 2014, life was uncertain for the critically injured Faisal.

Twenty months later in January 2016, Faisal travelled for the first time after the accident to Madurai. Besides his parents, the happiest person to watch him eat on his own, speak a few words and sit up with minimum support was an established neurosurgeon, Dr.M.J.Arunkumar, from our very own Temple Town. From September 2014, Faisal has been under the care of Dr.Arunkumar who visits him on weekends in Chennai and keeps account of his progress through whatsapp, chats and telemedicine.

A brain surgeon, Dr.Arunkumar, 49, established the Hannah Joseph Hospital, a 40 bed state-of-the-art complex devoted to Neurosurgery, Neurology, Psychiatry and Trauma, in April 2008. But his knowledge of brain science includes two decades of clinical practice at CMC Vellore and Apollo Hospitals, Madurai. And he says, he is thankful for every single day when he is able to save lives.

“We all tend to take our lives for granted whereas our lives can be gone in an instant,” says Dr.Arun, reminding how frail we are.

More than Arun, it was his father, a bank manager in Thanjavur, who was interested in making a doctor out of his son. “In my childhood, I was happy with my studies, playing hockey and singing in the church choir,” he says.

But there were two things unique about him. He had a penchant for rushing to any accident site to look at the victim and was naturally proficient in dissecting animals. “I enjoyed cleaning and cutting the chicken bought for cooking at home and my parents would discourage me saying I would become a butcher!.”

But, believes Dr.Arun, knives, needles and scalpels always added grace to his fingers! “Brain and human behaviour always fascinated me and I made up my mind early on that I wanted to be a surgeon,” he says.

With a drive to take on the toughest challenges, neurosurgery — ranked next to rocket science those days — became his obvious choice at CMC Vellore, where he also completed his MBBS. Dr.Arun gives full credit to his pioneering teachers — Dr.M.Jacob Chandy and Dr.B.Ramamoorthy — for shaping his mind, attitude and consciousness.

“They flushed me with tremendous confidence to unpack the science behind the theories on brain and the power over our health,” he says.

Neurosurgery is not limited to just the brain but the entire nervous system, including the spine. With his prolific lateral thinking, Dr.Arun was drawn into research and writing papers in scientific journals. He postulated his own theories and received excellent peer reviews. “The time was perfectly fantastic for me as I was credited with the highest number of articles published by any student in India.”

In 2000, when he joined the Apollo Speciality Hospitals in Madurai, to establish the neurosurgery department, little did he know that the hometown of his wife — a psychiatrist by profession — would one day become his operating base and change his life.

With the distinction of having performed the first endonasal total excision of pituitary tumour and the first intracranial aneurysm clipping in South Tamil Nadu, Dr.Arun dreams of making Madurai the ultimate destination for neurosciences.

Patients with cancer in their brains and haemorrhages or bleeding in the brain cavity are brought to him for emergency surgeries with much hope. “It is gratifying to know that I save lives,” he says, claiming 95 per cent success rate in traumatic head injuries.

Without meaning in a vain or egotistical way, Dr.Arun declares that at Hannah Joseph Hospital, he is able to pull out eight out of every 10 patients. This means he also gets lot of referred cases and can never keep his phone switched off. “If I do not answer calls, my patient will die,” he says, adding, “I do not turn away patients either.” Even while holidaying with his family, Dr.Arun skypes with his staff on each patient’s progress. “I feel unhappy if any of my patient reports unwell.”

In corporate sector, feels Dr.Arun, target-based surgery linked to revenue leads to unethical practices and non-transparent work culture. “It adds to the stress levels of the doctors,” he says. He follows the CMC work model at his centre. “I want to run it like an institute and not like a private hospital. We have developed a system where we work as a team and I have the luxury of being assisted by two neurosurgeons, two anaesthetists, a scrub nurse and her assistant and a dozen PG students.”

He has done surgeries which have lasted 16 hours. When such patients keep in touch for years after, Dr.Arun says, he realises how amazing it is to be able to help people regain their lives.

From his first surgery as a resident doctor for removing haematoma (blood clot) at CMC Vellore, Dr.Arun has lost count of the simple and complicated surgeries that he has done over the years. “I perform over 200 surgical procedures a year but even if one patient dies, it does not get easier,” he says. Thankfully, this sort of thing is few and far between at Hannah Joseph Hospital which saw 200 surgeries last year including 50 complicated ones and lost two patients.

“The anaesthetist loves me because I am very fast in surgery,” he smiles. “My surgical skills are flawless too but complications arise due to spasms in the brain or some other surgery-unrelated parameter,” points out Dr.Arun.

He feels blessed to have the education and experience in surgery and neuro-intensive care. “The minute I look at a patient, I know what he/she needs and do quick thinking,” he says.

It is the innate confidence that is now leading him to establish his second hospital which will be a standalone largest private hospital in neurosciences with 150 beds, three ICUs with 12 beds each, four state-of-the-art operation theatres and a helipad.

In four years, Dr.Arunkumar hopes to be on top of resuscitation to be able to reverse a patient’s cycle of death. Most doctors don’t have the time to explain to their patients but Dr.Arunkumar with his wry humour and reassurance showers all his attention on them. Still when people call him heartless and amazingly honest, he knows he is so for the good of his patients.

Known for refusing awards, Dr.Arunkumar believes his religion is his practice and he does charity by giving discounts to needy patients.

“Your earnings do not secure your future,” he says, “but the goodwill you earn does.”

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus> Society / by Soma Basu / Madurai – May 05th, 2016

‘Human Rights Education Need to be Taught in Schools’

Henri Tipagne, the recepient of the eighth Human Rights award from Amnesty International | P JAWAHAR
Henri Tipagne, the recepient of the eighth Human Rights award from Amnesty International | P JAWAHAR

Chennai :

Human rights activist Henri Tiphagne has become the first Indian to receive the human rights award from the Amnesty International. Tiphagne, known more as the founder of People’s Watch, says his activism began when in his youth he was stopped from doing flood relief work, because the villagers did not know if he was from a ‘pure’ caste or not.

Q: What does this award mean to you?

A: I think this award is not for me as an individual, but for all those who do good work and go unrecognised. This award highlights the shrinking civil society space globally.

Q: With more than 30 years of active participation in human rights cases, what was the first case that drove you to this phase?

A: It started in 1977, when human rights was not known in the country. We would call it a fight for social justice. In the same year, in November at Vedasandur, a panchayat in Dindigul, a group of volunteers including me went for doing flood relief work as the Alagapuri dam in Vedasandur had broken. But when we started work, we were prevented by the so-called ‘upper caste’ of the village from cleaning a particular well. They said it in good interest. We were supposed to clean only pure well, considering us to be pure people. Only then, I understood the concept of impure well and pure well. They did not know our caste. So they did not allow us to go to the impure well. But we refused to do it, and I think it is that refusal that turned a life of refusal for me and taught me many things.

Q:  You are an advocate as well. What made you take up law?

A: To support the poor, you also have to be competent in terms of being a lawyer. That is what forced me to take up law in 1980. But we could not study law in the college, as it taught us how to prepare ourselves for breaking law. So my study of law was study of street law in the streets of Madurai intervening in the lives of several people.

Q: Do you think independent institutions in India can work or survive?

A: Of course, we have the best example of the Election Commission. Though it has drawbacks it still controls the entire nation during elections. They conduct peaceful elections and all States follow their instructions. The reason is most of the people in it are vigilant. We have gone one step ahead. The commission does not only conduct election but also conducts campaign to attain 100 per cent Voting. So if independent institutions work better and are vigilant, that could make a difference.

Q: Things that need to be implemented for betterment of the country.

A: We have to ensure that human rights education is taught in schools so that it functions as an antidote to  challenge inequality in this country. Protection should be given to defenders. All persons defending the good are attacked and they should be protected. Institutions should be focused and should be made to work.

source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Jayanthi Pawar / May 05th, 2016

Tireless chronicler

Film News Anandan. File photo by K.V. Srinivasan / The Hindu
Film News Anandan. File photo by K.V. Srinivasan / The Hindu

It could well be curtains for flawless archiving of South Indian cinema

In the past two decades my interactions with this unique personality were many. Every time I needed pictures for a story on cinema, all I had to do was call up ‘Film News’ Anandan. He would attend the call himself. “Sir, I need a few pictures. Can I come over this evening?” “Sure, just give me the details and they will be ready,” he would say. And I would find them in a cover, neatly labelled with the essential information. His only request was that I return them after use.

Every time I visited Anandan I was awestruck by his simplicity and self-effacing nature. In fact, he would even sound slightly diffident. Like the time when he hesitantly walked up to Sivaji Ganesan, who was sitting under a tree at the shooting spot of ‘Raja Rani,’ and requested him to pose for him. Anandan’s career in cinema began with that click! “Great man, he immediately obliged,” he would recall often. His passion for photography and love for his prized possession, a rolleiflex camera, may not be known to all.

Also few may be aware of his knowledge of Carnatic music. We were walking out after the press show of ‘Subramaniapuram,’ when he told me, “I enjoyed that song in Reetigowla. The new composer, James Vasanthan, has done a good job.” Even later, during our conversations Anandan would dwell on the music of films of Tyagaraja Bhagavathar and the kritis of Saint Tyagaraja, used in cinema.

Anandan never forgot kind gestures. M.G. Ramachandran, who enabled him to become the first PRO in cinema, was often in his thoughts. So was Jayalalithaa. She was instrumental in the State Government buying over Anandan’s archival collection. She had planned to make it into a permanent exhibition. “I can’t thank her enough,” he said. Yet I sensed both agony and ecstasy, when he told me in a choked voice that parting with his ‘treasure’ wasn’t easy. It was just a week after he had handed over his collection.

Film News Anandan File Photo by K.V. Srinivasan / The Hindu
Film News Anandan File Photo by K.V. Srinivasan / The Hindu

Newspapers, cuttings from them, notepads and dairies of details on cinema were seen everywhere in his room always. “These are my years of hard work. This is not junk, this is my life. Nothing would upset me more than sitting in a neat room without these possessions around me,” he would smile with pride as he cleared some of the papers on the sofa for me to sit down.

The last time I met him was more than a year ago. He mentioned that the State Government had honoured him enough. So it was the Centre’s turn? He simply smiled. His meticulous chronicling will be an objet de vertu for generations of students of cinema. The diligence ought to be recognised, at least now.

When I entered Anandan’s home to pay my last respects, his daughter was standing beside her father’s body. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Just before he died, he mentioned three letters. We couldn’t understand them. He then asked, ‘Did all the films scheduled for Friday get released?’ ‘Yes, appa, they have all come out,’ I said. Next he uttered the word, ‘Sivaji’ and passed away.”

Ironically, the man’s first step into cinema began with clicking Sivaji Ganesan, and his last breath was with the name of the thespian on his lips!

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Friday Review> History & Culture / by Malathi Rangarajan / March 24th, 2016

MADRAS MISCELLANY – Madras Musings and the young

Montfort School, Yercaud
Montfort School, Yercaud

Madras Musings, a journal that focusses on heritage, nostalgia and on asking for a better Madras, has just completed 25 years.

Madras Musings, that tabloid-sized fortnightly that cares for the city, a journal that focusses on heritage, nostalgia and on asking for a better Madras, has just completed 25 years. That it has done so has been entirely due to a unique arrangement N. Sankar of the Sanmar Group made when it seemed as though, like many another small journal, it was doomed to failure after struggling along for five years when it had been mothered by what was then Lokavani-Hallmark Printers. The Sankar plan involved getting a dozen corporates who cared for the city to support the journal with an equal donation every year. That dozen has grown to nearly two dozen now — and no one asks for anything in return, not even reports about their activities; all they want is a place for their logos as acknowledgement.

I know of no other journal that has been kept going in this fashion. But that Madras Musings has been is because the donors felt strongly that the people of a city should know about the past and present of the place and be able to discuss its future. In the early years of the journal, this seemed to attract an elderly audience; this was reading material for old people, the young seemed to say. But to judge by the greetings Madras Musings recently received, the bulk came from such young persons’ media as Facebook, blogs and Twitter (if I’ve got the jargon right). And there appear to be more and more young people getting interested in heritage as well as wanting to do something for the city.

We are now hearing about young leaders of heritage walks, camera trails, sketching outings; we are hearing about the young getting down to beach cleaning, road sprucing, and working at reviving heritage. Just the other day, a couple of post-graduate doctors from Madras Medical College came to meet me to say they were working on a history of the college, that they were trying to give new life to old buildings like the famed Anatomy Block, and that they were trying to create a college museum.

Madras Musings, which has been associated with Madras Day, Madras Week, Madras Month has been noting how every year the participation of the young in heritage events has been increasing. You find them organising events, you find them on walks, you find them at lectures, you find them exhibiting and quizzing — and all in growing numbers every year.

It certainly triggered something, did Madras Musings, and now it watches the slow but steady growth of interest in heritage and in the city and looks forward to this burgeoning. But talk to those connected with the journal, and they’ll tell you a much wider audience needs to be reached. That there must be a reach to the grassroots. Anyone willing to support a Madras Musings-in-Tamil start-up?

Memories of times past

The picture of Yercaud and the Shevaroys last week brought back memories of my year at Montfort where I had come to do my Senior Cambridge. Together with Sacred Heart Convent (SHY), the two schools were the pride of Yercaud. It was only in much more recent times that I foundreason to believe that Yercaud, the first of the South’s hill stations, had much more to be proud of. M.D. Cockburn, the introducer of coffee, Robert Bruce Foote, the Rev. P. Percival, Dr. John Shortt, Nat Terry the boxer, and film mogul T.R. Sundaram all had their homes there. They’ve all figured in this column in the past for their significant contributions to the Presidency. But as schoolboys none of these names had meant anything to us, except possibly Terry and Sundaram of Modern Theatres. Our world tended to be centred on Montfort and on the SHY girls during the once-a-week film show in our hall into which they walked in two by two carefully watched over by Mother Bernard.

Montfort at the time was headed by Bro. Eleazar, Titch to all, but anything but small as a presence! It was only recently that I discovered that this Brother of the Order of St. Gabriel had come out to Montfort as a teenager, with his more earthly education incomplete. He arrived speaking only French, but went on to do his Senior Cambridge from Montfort in a couple of years and then Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees from Loyola, topping every class. What a fine teacher he proved and what a first class educational institution he made of Montfort during his tenure as Principal. That would rate him an out-of-the-ordinary Old Boy and another whom Yercaud should be proud of.

Sundaram’s was a rather different world from Titch’s. He had a gleaming white house, well raised off the road, which we used to stare at every time we went to Montfort and back. It had a magnificent garden well worth staring at if, at that age, we appreciated floral beauty, but the staring was more a sign of awe over an invisible presence, a man who made films by the score as well as money in numbers we couldn’t quite imagine. Of him, Randor Guy has said, “He was perhaps the only person in cinema history to own a studio and produce a hundred films, most of which he directed himself.” In that studio, over a period of 40 years, he produced films in all the South Indian languages besides movies in Hindi, Sinhalese and English. It was in Modern Theatres’ studio in Salem, just where the Ghat road to Yercaud begins, a studio with all film-making facilities under one roof and run like a smoothly functioning manufacturing unit, that Sundaram made the first Malayalam film, Balan, the first Malayalam colour film, Kandam Becha Kottu, and the first Tamil film in colour, Ali Babavum Narpathu Thirudargalum. As boys, particularly as boys in an Anglo-Indian school, we knew little of all this. But a movie-maker — and a person who was supposed to be the richest person in the district — was someone to be in awe of at that age, whoever you were.

So Sundaram’s house always had our attention as we marched to the Big Lake and back.

When the postman knocked…

* Mohandas has a query and I wonder whether anyone can help. Quoting this column and books I’ve written, he says the first car to be registered in Madras was Sir Francis Spring’s and it bore the number MC-1. The next car I have mentioned, he says, is Namberumal Chetty’s MC-3. But what was MC-2, he asks. It has been recorded that even before Spring’s car came out in 1901, A.J. Yorke, a director of Parry & Co, had brought out a car from England and that it attracted much attention on the roads of Madras. I wonder whether this was MC-2. Or is there another answer?

* Mail seeking help from readers of this column arrived the other day from David R. Armitage, Chair, Department of History, Harvard University. He and Jennifer Pitts of the University of Chicago are editing the essays of Prof. Charles H. Alexandrowicz for publication by Oxford University and they seek “any reminiscences of his time in Madras or any letter or any other writings of his that anyone may possess. Responses to armitage@fas.harvard.edu”. Prof. Alexandrowicz arrived in Madras in 1950 and the next year he started what was is now known as the Department of Legal Studies in the University of Madras. He started the first M.L. degree course in India in International & Constitutional Law. He headed the Department until 1961 when he left Madras after a decade in the city. He also was the first Chairman of the Alliance Française in Madras when it transformed itself in 1954 from the Groupe Française that had been founded in 1948.

* Commenting on Albion Banerjee’s religious leanings and his studying Tamil (Miscellany, April 4), M.S. Sethuraman writes, and I quote him: “Excommunication for travel abroad was followed in all parts of India. Mahatma Gandhi was ostracised and so also Dr. Swaminadhan. None of the Palghat Iyers offered for his marriage, resulting in his visit to his village and sought the daughter of Ammu’s mother.

“Sir Albion Banerjee ICS opted for Madras cadre, perhaps due to resistance from Bengal families. W.E. Banerjee, early Congress President, converted to Christianity when expelled from his caste due to his crossing the seas. Sir Albion should have studied Tamil after his Madras appointment (SM’s note: No). ICS officers were asked to learn a local language on appointment and cash awards are also awarded. A.S.P. Ayyar ICS, in addition to his Malayalam, learnt Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, but the then British Government limited the cash award to one language.”

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus> Society / by S. Muthiah / April 30th, 2016

Sailing in search of history

TRAILING THE TURTLES: Historian Orissa Balu. Photo: Special Arrangement
TRAILING THE TURTLES: Historian Orissa Balu. Photo: Special Arrangement

Historian Sivagnanam Balasubramani, popularly known as Orissa Balu, deciphers the sea trade routes used by ancient Tamil sailors through his research on sea turtles

‘Thirai kadal odiyum thiraviam thedu’ (Seek your fortune even by venturing overseas) — Tamil poet Avvaiyar.

The Sangam literature is a rich repository of information on the ancient Tamil way of living. Amidst its chapters that vividly describe the beauty of nature, lifestyle and social structure of the old Tamil country, the Purananuru elicits the flourishing sea trade of those times. From ships, sea routes, daring maritime voyages to the merchandise that were traded and the expertise of the Tamil seafarers, it talks in detail of the mighty ocean and the strong bond the people shared with it.

For the past two decades, historian Orissa Balu, has been collecting real-life evidences and remnants from across the coast of Tamil Nadu and elsewhere in the world, correlating them with the references in Sangam literature. “The land expanse mentioned in the literary works is a much larger area than the present day Tamil Nadu state. Our ancestors had maintained trade links from Europe in the west to the Far East,” says Balu. “Excavations at Adichanalur have yielded skeletons of people belonging to five different races. It’s an indication that we have been a centre of international trade, paving way for exchange of culture and language.”

According the Balu, the root of the word ‘Tamilar’ comes from ‘Dramilar’, which in turn is a derivative of ‘Thirai Meelar’ – an expression to denote sea farers. “It was considered a science to be able to return from the sea. The Tamil seafarers had an advanced idea of direction, geography and weather. They were able to come back to their home turf after sea voyages spanning months and years covering millions of nautical miles. The word ‘Thirai Meelar’ is mentioned repeatedly in works like Manimekalai andSilapathikaram.”

Sea faring was such a thriving industry that the Tamil society is said to have had over 20 different communities working for sea trade. Literature talks about the Vathiriyars (people who weaved the sail), Odavis (men who built ships), Kuliyalis (Surfers) and Mugavaiyars (divers who fished pearl from the deep sea bed).

Balu who has done an extensive study on the ‘Paimara Kappal’ (sail boat), the indigenous vessel of ancient Tamils, says, “The sail cloth used in the Sangam age was 20 metres in width, 10 metres in height and could withstand a wind velocity of 250km/hr. It’s notable that even the women were experts in sailing and pearl fishing. Even today, we can find women diving into the sea in search of pearls along the coast of Tuticorin.”

He adds, “The mechanism of building the boat was unique as they used nearly 42 kinds of wood including the Karunkali wood for the central pole that withstood lightning. Today, the coastal Muslim community practices the age-old boat building technique. There are hardly 25 sail boats and five families of boat builders left in Kayalpatnam and Keezhakarai.”

The Sangam literature also documents the presence of over 20,000 islands in the Indo-Pacific Ocean, says Balu. ‘Muziris Papyrus is a document on the evolved sea trade of Tamils. It shows how advanced and strategically planned were the supply chain network and management policies of Tamil traders.” Balu postulates that ancient Tamil seafarers followed sea turtles and thus chalked maritime trade routes. For over 21 years, he has been doing research on sea turtles, mapping their migration routes.

“The turtle has the ability of returning to its home turf even after migrating thousands of miles in the sea. They float along sea currents and don’t swim in the ocean. The technique used by Tamil sailors must have been inspired from this,” he says. “There’s a proper documentation of the life cycle of sea turtles in Sangam literature.”

Balu is researching on the migration routes of Olive Ridleys, Green Turtles and Leatherbacks which visit the Tamil Nadu coast.

“My idea is to use historical facts for sustainable living in the present times,” says Balu, who runs the Integrated Ocean Culture Research Foundation, based in Chennai. “We have people from over 72 sea-related fields researching on various subjects. We have created a link between the stakeholders of the sea, from marine engineers and ship builders to fishermen.” Orissa Balu delivered a lecture at a programme organised by INATCH Madurai Chapter.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus> Society / A. Shrikumar / Madurai – April 29th, 2016

Photo Essay: Sadras- Dutch legacy on the Coromandel Coast

The forgotten ruins in this small village remind us of the power that a tiny, faraway country wielded on our coast for over 200 years.
 As one drives down the East Coast Road from Chennai, about half an hour past the World Heritage Site of Mahabalipuram, is a village called Sadurangapattinam, anglicized to Sadras. An important Dutch settlement between the 17th and 19th centuries, this nondescript village is home to the ruins of a picturesque seaside brick fortress.
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Back in the 16th century, before the Dutch arrived on Indian shores, the Portuguese had pretty much monopolized maritime routes between Asia and Europe. This wasn’t a problem as long as the Dutch could use Portuguese seaports to conduct their trade. However, this became unviable in the late 16th century, as Portugal was taken over by the king of Spain, with whom the Dutch were at war.
Since the Dutch now had to find another way, merchants in the tiny country started setting up companies to send fleets of ships to South East Asia.
In the year 1602, a national resolution merged all of these players into one Dutch East India Company. The company was empowered to do business, build ports, factories and fortresses, negotiate deals, and even wage wars if required.
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Over the  next two centuries, the Dutch East India Company established settlements in different ports on the Coromandel coast of southern India.
The first foothold that they gained was in Machilipatnam in present day Andhra Pradesh, where they built their first factory. Over the following decades, they set up shop in various coastal towns, including three important centres in Tamil Nadu – Pulicat, straddling the state’s border with Andhra Pradesh, which served as their capital for a long time, Nagapattinam their later capital, and Sadras, about 80km south of Chennai.
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Sadras lies adjacent to the Kalpakkam township. Dating back to the mid 17th century, the fortress is built on a rectangular plan, and is entered through a gateway on the west, with a watchtower above it. A canon stands on each side of the entrance. The eastern wall overlooks the sea, and has a bastion on top, to protect the fort against attacks from the sea. Most of the fortress is gone, leaving a few structures like a granary, stables and a Dutch cemetery.
The cemetery contains beautiful tombs with ornate inscriptions dating back to the 17th century.
It is usually kept under lock and key, but visitors can request the caretaker to open it for them. An antechamber stands behind the graves, with sunlight streaming in through a caved-in roof.
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A structure that was used to mount elephants
A structure that was used to mount elephants
Back in the day, the Sadras fort was referred to as Fort Orange, because orange is the colour of Dutch royalty. The settlement was famous for the extremely fine muslin that was spun in its looms. Other items traded from the port included pearls, spices, rice, bricks and beautiful printed textiles called chintz.
The control that the Dutch East India Company had over the Coromandel Coast, gave them monopoly over trade routes to the East Indies, essentially the Malay Archipelago in Southeast Asia.
However, their supremacy didn’t last very long.
As the British rapidly grew stronger and the Dutch company began to decline due to various reasons like wars, competition, bad financial policies, increasing costs, decreasing demands, etc, it became unaffordable for them to hold on to their settlements in India. The British attacked and captured the Sadras fortress in the late 18th century, destroying it in the process.
In a few decades it went back into the hands of the Dutch, but in the 19th century, they signed a treaty with the British and ceded all of their Indian settlements to them.
The double decker tomb in front is said to belong to two brothers.
The double decker tomb in front is said to belong to two brothers.
The details on a tomb
The details on a tomb
Today, not much remains of Sadurangapattinam’s Dutch legacy, but the forgotten ruins in this small village remind us of the power that a tiny, faraway country wielded on our coast for over 200 years.

All photographs by Madhumita Gopalan

(Madhumita Gopalan is a photographer, blogger and history enthusiast who loves photo-documenting travel, culture and architecture. She blogs at www.madhugopalan.com.)

source: http://www.thenewsminute.com / The News Minute / Home / by Madhumita Gopalan / Saturday – April 30th, 2016

HIDDEN HISTORIES – When Madras froze over

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Our city has only three seasons — hot, hotter and hell. Given this, would people believe me if I said that the temperature once dipped below freezing in our city, and that too, in the sweltering month of April? It would probably be dismissed as an April Fool’s Joke. And yet it happened exactly 200 years ago, in the last week of April 1815. The morning temperature was 11 degrees Celsius on Monday, April 24, and by Friday, April 28, it had dipped to minus 3 degrees Celsius. There are unverified reports of snow falling too but that may be an exaggeration.

The cause of this freak phenomenon was the volcanic eruption of Mount Tambora in distant Indonesia. At that time, this was the tallest peak in the archipelago which formed that country, rising to a height of 4,300 m.

Lava burst forth from it on April 10 and 11, 1815, with such ferocity that the explosion killed around 12,000 people and was heard 2,000 km away. It holds the record for being the largest volcanic activity ever in world history till date.

What followed next is best described in Tambora: The Eruption That Changed The World, by Gillen D’Arcy Wood — “Tambora’s dust veil, serene and massive above the clouds, began its westward drift aloft the winds of the upper atmosphere. Its airy passage to India outran the thousands of waterborne vessels below bent upon an identical course, breasting the trade winds from the resource-rich East Indies to the commercial ports of the Indian Ocean. The vanguard of Tambora’s stratospheric plume arrived over the Bay of Bengal within days”.

Madras was perhaps the first to feel it two weeks later, with the temperature dipping to freezing point, thanks to the aerosols in the volcanic cloud absorbing heat from the sun and the earth. Given that our public dons monkey caps and earmuffs in December each year, what was the fashion statement in freezing April 1815? There is, however, not one East India Company record that notes the reactions of the colonial masters or the people to this freak occurrence. There is also no mention of a tsunami. Pumice stone, however, washed up on the coast for a long while.

What followed thereafter was not as pleasant as the cold weather. The ash cloud spread globally, making 1816 the ‘year without summer’. In Madras, and the rest of India, it also meant a year without monsoon. Crops failed, as they did internationally. Famine in India was followed by cholera, which is now directly attributed by scholars to the volcano. Over 70,000 people perished globally, due to Tambora.

In August 1815, the brig Catherina — the first vessel from Java after the eruption — arrived in Madras.The Madras Courier interviewed the craft’s master for an eyewitness description of what happened. He also brought with him a bag of volcanic ash, which was forwarded to Calcutta for further analysis. But nobody linked the big freeze in Madras to the volcano!

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> MetroPlus> Hidden Histories / by Sriram V / April 17th, 2016