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Women’s Indian Association to mark centenary
Chennai :
It was in the gardens of the Theosophical Society that the idea of the Women’s Indian Association (WIA) came to be in 1917, and so it is only befitting that 100 years later, the association chose the venue to celebrate its centenary.
The 100th year celebrations will be inaugurated by President Pranab Mukerjee on Friday, with Carnatic vocalist Aruna Sairam having been invited to present the invocation song.
Founded on May 7, 1917, by women’s rights activists such as Annie Beasant, Margaret Cousins, Dr Muthulakshmi Reddy, Sister Subbalaskmi and Sarojini Naidu, who referred to themselves as the “daughters of India”, the mission of the association to empower women hasn’t changed over the years.
“Times though have changed as have the issues that women have to contend with,” says WIA chairperson Padma Venkataraman, daughter of former president R Venkatraman.
In the early 20th century, WIA battled against the social evils – which ranged from a lack of education of girls, child marriage, and the denial of voting rights.
The WIA took an active part in the political movements of the time. In 1917, for instance, when Besant was arrested and interned, branches of the WIA took active part in obtaining her release.
The WIA also published a monthly journal in English named ‘Stri-Dharma’, which was edited by freedom fighter Muthulakshmi Reddy from 1931 to 1940. WIA was the first women’s association in India to present a memorandum to the Round Table Conference on Women’s Franchise and her Constitutional rights as well as the initiator of the first All Asian Women’s Conference.
From a single branch that fought to make its voice heard, the WIA today has more than 40 branches and affiliations, 9000 members, and looks after the welfare of more than 5000 women.
At the WIA’s present premises in RA Puram, women learn computer science, nursing, and tailoring, and are provided a hostel “We are no longer an association but a federation,” says M Bargavi Devendra, honorary secretary.
“While our monthly activities and programmes change, our sole aim is to work for the socio-economic benefit of women.
source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / News> City News> Chennai News / TNN / March 03rd, 2017
‘Galapra’ period coin die made by Roman smiths minted in Sangam Era?
Chennai :
After a gap of several years, a ‘Galapra’ period coin has been discovered and deciphered in Tamil Nadu, thanks to the efforts of R Krishnamurthy, president, South Indian Numismatic Society (SINS).
The coin was collected from the Amaravathi river bed Karur in 1986. The period immediately after Sangam Age in the Tamil Country is called the Kalabhra (also Galapra) Interregnum and an alien tribe occupied the Tamil Country throwing out the ancient Chera, Chola and Pandya kingdoms and ruled for some period for which there is no proper evidence.
“This is an accidental discovery. When I was rearranging my old collection of Pallava Coins six months ago, I saw a coin which has a different texture not at all connected with the Pallava coin. In the coin holder, I have written in 1986 that the coin was collected from the Amaravathi river bed, Karur,” Krishnamurthy, an expert in deciphering Brahmi scripts, told Express.
He also recalled that in 1986 he had published a square copper coin with an elephant on the obverse and a legend in Brahmi-script “I read the legend as ‘GALAPIRA’. Many scholars did not accept my reading because of some reasons,” he recalled. Krishnamurthy had presented a paper on his recent discovery at the recent conference of SINS at Hyderabad.
Regarding the date of the coin, Krishnamurthy said, “The coin is die struck and the minting is of high quality. It looks similar to the Roman bronze coin of Third century AD. On going through a Roman Coin catalogue, I found a coin similar in diameter and weight. The Galapra coin die might have been designed and made by Roman coin die-makers.”
He further said the ‘Galapra’ coin had four symbols on the obverse top right near the border which are usually seen in Sangam Age Tamil coins.
“So, the coin may have been minted at the fag end of Sangam Age,” Krishnamurthy said.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Express News Service / March 02nd, 2017
Nanotech incubation centre inaugurated
It will focus on smart textiles, healthcare, renewable energy
With efforts to encourage commercial production of innovative products in areas such as biotechnology, internet of things, and nano technology, about 30 % companies at the technology business incubators in the country are in such high-end technologies, Harkesh Mittal, advisor and head of National Science and Technology Entrepreneurship Development Board (NSTEDB), told presspersons here on Monday.
He inaugurated here the PSG Nanotech Research, Innovation, and Incubation Centre, which is a collaboration of the PSG Institute of Advanced Studies, PSG College of Technology, and PSG-STEP and is supported by the NSTEDB.
This is the only incubation centre so far for nano technology and it will focus on smart textiles, healthcare, renewable energy, and plastic electronics.
The area of nano technology is new and lot of research is happening in this field. There is a need for transfer of technology, taking ideas to the market. The incubator will support such an effort, he said.
The NSTEDB aims to start 20 new technology business incubators every year in different verticals.
There are 110 technology business incubators in the country and 50 of these give seed support to the incubatees. The NSTEDB gives ₹10 crore to each of these incubators and the amount is disbursed as loan or equity in two to three years. The National Initiative for Developing and Harnessing Innovations was launched last year. Under this initiative, an incubator gets seed support, has the scope to upscale, and will get support to covert ideas into prototypes.
PSG STEP will launch shortly an entrepreneurial residential programme. It is among the 10 incubators in the country that will offer fellowship for a year to students who are entrepreneurs. A student can receive up to ₹30,000 a month. Each incubator will get ₹36 lakh a year to extend this support, he said.
It will also launch a programme to give up to ₹10 lakh as grant to convert ideas into prototypes (Promoting and Accelerating Young and Aspiring Innovators and Start Ups). About 10 innovators will receive the support every year and this project is sanctioned for 10 incubators this year. The incubator will get ₹1.2 crore support from the Department of Science and Technology to set up a lab and ₹20 lakh to buy raw materials.
According to K Suresh Kumar, General Manager of PSG STEP, the nano tech centre here is established at a total cost of ₹15 crore. While ₹7.5 crore is provided by the DST, the rest is from the PSG Institute.
It will support 10 incubatees for a maximum of five years each. Entrepreneurs can come with their own projects or take up products developed by researchers at PSG Institute of Advanced Studies, he said.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> Cities> Coimbatore / by Special Correspondent / Coimbatore – February 28th, 2017
Curries for the corporate soul
From a high-paying job to a home-made curry business and rearing indigenous cattle at home, G. Rajesh is living his dream
“What’s with you now? Don’t be scared, they won’t hurt you!” G. Rajesh chides his cow Singari. Summer is setting in with a vengeance and the grazing ground in Tambaram where Rajesh is cajoling his cattle to drink water, is blazing hot. Cut to five years ago, and the 34-year-old would’ve been seated in an air-conditioned office discussing mutual funds across the table, with a customer. Some decisions can tilt one’s world on its head and Rajesh’s did just that. A year ago, he decided to give up a high-paying corporate job and live life on his own terms.
The big leap
“I’ve always been angry with consumerism,” says Rajesh. “To have someone dictate terms, telling us what to buy, what to eat, and how to live our lives.” His 12 years of corporate life only furthered his dislike for all things “superficial”. “I was being judged based on the car I drove and the brand of pen I used,” he shakes his head. There was good money, but then Rajesh says that he’s the same person — whether he earned ₹ 8,000 or ₹ 80,000. “The more money I made, the more my needs increased.” He put an end to this constant struggle with his way of thinking and how society functioned, and started his own business.
Headquartered at his Tambaram home, Rajesh’s ‘Thamizhan Home-made Curries’ has five outlets around the area. His small team that consists of S. Madhusudanan (his business partner), M. Govardanan, R. Sridevi, G. Mithra, S. Deepa, T. Jayanthi, and M. Vaidegi, makes various curries that range from sambar and urundai kuzhambu, to prawn and fish curry, at their central kitchen, to be sold in the evenings.
“I’ve always wanted to run a business of my own,” says Rajesh. The idea of selling curries has been with him for a long time. “After an evening of shopping with my family, my father would say ‘let’s buy pakodas and manage dinner at home’. Or mother would say, ‘There’s sambar, let’s have dosas’.” A lot of people prefer a simple home-cooked meal after a workday or a day out, he feels. These are the customers he taps into.
Home-style food
Rajesh hopes his takeaway curries give customers the satisfaction of having eaten at home, and at the same time, reduce the time and energy spent in cooking. He says that the curries are made home-style, and that they are free from food colours and taste-enhancers. Rajesh plans to expand his business in the future if things go well. “But to ensure quality, the kitchens should be within a 10-km radius of the outlets,” he says.
Enter Rajesh’s Tambaram home, and you are greeted by an interesting mix of smells — of the curries bubbling on the terrace kitchen, and that of cow dung. For in his backyard, is a cow-shed, where a noisy brood of chickens peck at the bushes by a well. The cows, Thangam, Singari, and Selvi, all from the Kankrej breed, have gone out to graze. “They’ll be back by 3.30 pm,” explains Rajesh.
Cattle love
He takes us to see them at the grazing grounds — with glorious horns and tinkling bells around their necks, the cows are beautiful. “I sell their milk to friends and family,” says Rajesh. The cows take up a lot of his time during the day, and his curry business keeps him occupied in the evenings.
But Rajesh functions at his own pace — he picks up his kids from school, has long conversations with like-minded people who drop in at his home over a delicious meal cooked by his mother…
In short, Rajesh’s day is in his hands and he can choose to do what makes him happy.
“This is why I gave up my job,” he says. “I might not save as much as I would’ve had otherwise,” he says. “But that’s all right. I’m able to practise sustainable living in my own way. I want to show that it is possible to live close to Nature as well as make a viable business out of it to take care of one’s needs.”
Rajesh has no regrets about leaving the corporate way of life. “Earlier, I would keep running; running to catch the train, running to meet my clients, just running through the day,” he says. “Now, I’m able to slow down. I read a lot, I’m able to grow a beard,” he laughs.
Here’s a shortfilm on Rajesh by Big Short Films
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society / by Akila Kannadasan / February 27th, 2017
Inimitable cornices
Avudaiyar Kovil in Pudukottai holds magnificent sculptures
‘There is no happiness for him who does not travel, Rohita!… The feet of the wanderer are like the flower, his soul is growing and reaping fruit; and all his sins are destroyed by his fatigues in wandering. Therefore, wander!/The fortune of him who is sitting, sits; it rises when he rises; it sleeps when he sleeps; it moves when he moves. Therefore, wander!’
– Indra in Aitareya Brahmana
About ten years ago, I made a trip to Avudaiyar Kovil, also known as Tirupperunthurai (near Aranthangi in the Pudukottai district of Tamil Nadu), simply because I had booked for the whole family on the only convenient train to Karaikkudi from Chennai, but everyone else dropped out for one reason or other. So I decided to go on my own, a first for a trip that wasn’t related to work. Mainly, I did not want to pass up the chance to see the never-before-or-since stone cornices at the Athmanathaswamy Temple.
I spent most of my day on the road, checking into a modest hotel in Karaikkudi for just long enough to freshen up, bussing my way to the hamlet that takes its name from the temple. Avudaiyar Kovil turned out to be little besides its legendary temple, set in the middle of pretty agrarian vistas, the priests given to calm diffidence.
A chattering guide introduced me to the wonders of the shrine to Siva in which there is no lingam, only the avudaiyar (the base to it), with the deity imagined in the steam that rises from offerings of freshly cooked rice, greens and bitter gourd.
I hung around till well after the mid-day ritual (Uchchi Kaala Seva), the quietude of the temple seeping into me as I walked around undisturbed. The adjacent Tyagaraja and Oonjal mandapams in the third prakaram, to the east, hold the most magnificent sculptural riches. Cavalrymen set off to battle, their horses so life-like that flared nostrils and taut sinews rear to gallop beneath enormous stone chains hanging from the ceiling. The famous cornices, their beams, rods and bolts crafted entirely and unfathomably in stone, are here.
Elsewhere in the temple, the immaculately preserved detail in stone is breathtaking — whether in the musical pillars or the royals and nobility bearing swords, bows and spears, each of them rendered uniquely in their facial features, build and attire, . Motes of dust float surreally in the rays of light that enter the cool darkness from holes in the roof, falling upon a fabulously embellished pillar or the regal figure fronting it. I would reach for my camera but never get a picture that came close to what I was seeing. I have returned to Avudaiyar Kovil twice and its preternatural aesthetic never failed to hold me in thrall.
I took the night train back, rather quieter than I was when I had arrived, stilled not so much by lassitude as the wonders of what I had seen and the cordiality of the people I had met.
A montly column on places of religious interest
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society> History & Culture / by Lalitha Sridhar / February 23rd, 2017
Udder delight
Meet the man who has devoted his life to saving some of those now-famous native cattle breeds in his farm in the heart of Tamil Nadu.
A dappled calf saunters up. I offer it my hand. It nuzzles and then proceeds to lick it. Another joins it, and yet another. I am enjoying the attention — until a sudden tug distracts me. A tiny mouth has just begun nibbling the tassels of my cotton dupatta. I beat a hasty retreat, almost landing ankle-deep in a mound of steaming dung.
Ganesan laughs and pats the head of the calf that has just tried to eat up my dupatta. “This calf belongs to the Gir breed,” he says, drawing my attention to the convex forehead and pendulous ears distinctive to the breed whose origins lie, as the name suggests, in the Gir forest region of Gujarat.
C. Ganesan is a slender, bespectacled man, wearing a dhoti, blue shirt and ready smile. He runs what he calls an “experimental farm” in P. Chellandipalayam in Karur district of Tamil Nadu, the state that exploded with the jallikattu protests some weeks ago. Among the arguments extended by the fans of this rather cruel bull race was that native breeds of cattle could be protected through the sport. Experts spoke of how Indian cattle had vanished and of the higher nutrient content in the milk of these cows.
Despite the argument, the truth is that most cattle raised for dairy farming in India is imported from abroad. Since these breeds are reported to yield much higher quantities of milk, they are found more suitable for commercial use.
There is merit in wanting to protect the hardier native breeds from extinction, but clearly the solution lies in efforts that are far more effective, committed and enduring than jallikattu. The 69-year-old Ganesan is among a handful of cattle breeders in India making that effort.
The road that leads to Ganesan’s farm is a kaccha, vertigo-inducing path flanked by arid, patchy coconut groves, rust-coloured rocks, and acres of barren paddy fields. Thorny scrub give way to worn fences but they offer scant protection from the marauding peacocks, complains Ganesan, “I really need to fence these fields properly,” he says with a shrug.
Ganesan set up his farm some 13 years ago to prove that Indian breeds can give high yields of milk, more than 15 litres a day: “My cows produce copious quantities of milk and like all other local breeds have excellent immunity.” His farm has only indigenous breeds. Besides Gir, there is Sahiwal and Tharparkar (named after the Pakistani towns of their origin), a few buffaloes, the local Kangayam breed, and a few head of Thalacherry goat.
Ganesan’s family also owns a textile business but farming is in their blood. “Agriculture is our ancestral occupation and we have been keeping cattle for a long time,” he says. Earlier, the genial farmer’s animals were Jersey cross-breeds. “The government recommends a mix of 65% Jersey with 35% native breed of cattle, but this is hard for farmers to maintain,” he explains. “Proper breeding management doesn’t happen in India.”
Then, in 2003, he lost five Jersey cross-bred cows very suddenly, “They have poor immunity and one had to keep replacing them,” he says. That’s when he began to convert exotic cross-breeds into desi. “I purchased a few desi animals — around 10 Tharparkar cows. Also, I began inseminating my Jersey cross-bred cows with semen samples taken from pure Indian breeds.”
There are over 50 heads of pure Indian cattle on his farm now — of various colours, shapes and sizes. A newly born calf totters up as we approach while its mother fixes us with a steely gaze and lowers her horns. Pitch-black buffaloes swill down water and bellow; red and white cows stick their heads into feeding troughs; gambolling calves behind wire-netting peer curiously at us.
“The easiest way to identify a desi breed is by the hump,” says Ganesan. And yes, all humped cattle produce milk rich in the much-touted A2 milk protein. A2 milk is excellent for children, he says, adding that it helps brain function and promotes growth. The fodder, culled from the fields around him, does not have pesticide and unlike commercial establishments he does not inject his cows with oxytocin injections to induce lactation, “My grandchildren refuse to drink any other milk or curd,” he laughs, as he leads me into his sparse office where a hot cup of tea made with freshly-drawn milk awaits.
Milk, however, is only a by-product of Ganesan’s experiment, “This is not a commercial farm — it is only a model one,” he says, explaining that he sells his milk at the ridiculously low rate of ₹30 per litre, “It must be the lowest rate in Tamil Nadu,” he grins. But the milk reaches his customers within two hours of milking.
What Ganesan really wants to prove is that native Indian breeds are more than capable of producing milk on a commercial scale. “The government doesn’t work at improving their milk capacity. Even breeds like Kangayam, which are not traditionally bred for milk, can produce up to six litres a day if the breeding is done properly.”
According to him, the best sort of cattle comes from artificial insemination done right. Getting high quality semen samples can be challenging. Ganesan currently gets his frozen samples from the National Dairy Development Board. “Once we get good animals, the milk is automatically better.”
And what role can jallikattu play in preserving desi breeds, I ask. “Those bulls are not really used for breeding — they are trained to be ferocious,” he says, and adds, “Anyway, jallikattu is not about preserving local breeds, it is about men proving themselves.”
preeti.z@thehindu.co.in
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society> History & Culture> Cattle Class / by Preeti Zachariah / February 04th, 2017
The dark secret of Elihu Yale
Believe it or not, there are a few who want to change the name of Yale University! It was initially named Yale College after Elihu Yale, Governor of Madras (1687-1692), who had, in 1715 and 1721, gifted about £800 worth of textiles and books to what was the Collegiate School of Connecticut. Their reason: The donor had not only kept slaves in Madras but had also encouraged slave exports.
These liberals of the anti-Trump brigade cite precedent. Yale in February re-named its Calhoun College, Hopper College because John Calhoun, a Vice President of America, had been “a white supremacist and a national leader who passionately supported slavery”, according to Yale’s President who amplified, “He was fundamentally in conflict with Yale’s mission and values.” So was Yale, say the liberals pointing to Yale’s Madras record of dubiously enriching himself and supporting slavery.
Writing about the last year of Yale’s Governorship, historian HD Love says, “The use of slaves for domestic purposes in Madras had always been recognised and sales and purchases were invariably registered at the Choultry (a Government office). The iniquitous practice of stealing children for export was, of course, illegal… (In 1683 there was) absolute prohibition against the exportation of slaves of any age. In 1687 (Yale’s first year as Governor), however, the trade was sanctioned under regulation, a duty of one pagoda being exacted for each slave sent from Madras by sea.” In September that year, 665 slaves were exported, giving an idea of the trade. The next year, the export of slaves was prohibited. The Council’s policy kept chopping and changing till, in 1790, the Council “resolved that any Traffic in the sale or purchase of Slaves be prohibited by public Proclamation”.
Yale, whether involved in the trade or not, was, as Governor, permissive about it, it would appear. The records state he permitted 10 slaves to be sent on every ship to England. Citing Yale’s own involvement, the pro-changers refer to three paintings of Yale in the Yale Library collection showing a dark-skinned boy in them. But, the picture seen in all sources and which I found in the first authoritative biography of Yale (by Hiram Bingham) says the boy is the “page boy of the Duke of Devonshire” whose brother Yale’s daughter Anne was to marry.
As for slavery in the Madras Presidency, a 19th Century report says it was commonplace, affecting about 20 per cent of the population (the figure in 1930 was still 12 per cent!). But this slavery was what continues to this day as ‘bonded labour’. The poor borrowed from the landowners and when they could not pay back they entered into a bond to work for the lender for so many years. Laws against such practices were enacted in 1811, 1812, 1823 and 1843, when total abolition was decreed. Selling of slaves became a criminal offence under the Indian Penal Code of 1862.
But to get back to the Yale issue; it’s been said that virtually every old private college in the US was endowed by men from slave-owning families.
Last ‘great white hunter’?
Joshua Mathew from Bengaluru, an IT professional and history buff, tells me that he has the rights for all the books by Kenneth Anderson, the Jim Corbett of the South, who tracked and killed man-eating leopards and tigers and then wrote about them and the southern terrain they flourished in. Anderson, of five-generation British lineage, and his wife Blossom, of Australian and Ceylon Burgher parentage, called Bangalore home. Their son Donald, whom Mathew calls “the last great white hunter-author”, is the subject of a book by Mathew awaiting publication.
Many Andersons married in St Andrew’s Kirk in Madras, says Mathew, but Kenneth Anderson’s greater connection with Madras was his friendship with Wiele the photographer. They hunted and, later, photographed in the wild together, leading Anderson to spend his post-hunting years ‘shooting’ with the camera. His pictures of the Nilgiris in the early 20th Century brought Mathew to my door after reading of Albert Penn, the photographer of the Nilgiris, in this paper.
Wiele, of German origin but who may have been British — I’ve found no mention of his being interned during the First World War — opened a photographic studio in Madras in the 1880s. Around 1890, Theodor Klein, also German, joined him. Their Wiele and Klein photographic studio was at 11, Mount Road, facing Round Tana (later the G Venkatapathi Naidu building). Branches in Ooty and Coonoor were added. Wiele later sold his share to Klein, moved to Bangalore and successfully ran a studio there in the early 1900s (Mathew tells me Wiele’s daughter visits Bangalore every year). In Madras, Klein hired young Michael Peyerl, another German, as assistant, then took him as partner.
Klein died during the Second World War internment. His widow Valeska inherited his share and ran the business with Peyerl till after Independence when they sold it to Indian interests and moved together to Europe. Klein and Peyerl remained a well-known name in Madras till 1987 when a fire wrote finis to it.
The chronicler of Madras that is Chennai tells stories of people, places and events from the years gone by and, sometimes, from today
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society> History & Culture> Madras Miscellany / by S. Muthiah / February 27th, 2017