Today is Guruvayur Ekadasi, a very auspicious day at the Sri Krishna Temple, Guruvayur, Kerala. Ekadasi is the 11th phase of the moon and the Guruvayur Ekadasi falls in the Malayalam month of Vrichikkam which coincides with November 15th to December 15th of the English Calendar. Being devout bhakthas of Lord Guruvayurappa, it is but natural that all of us observe the Ekadasi rituals and abstain from consuming those articles considered taboo. Since a trip to Guruvayur is impractical, the best that I could do was to go to the local Guruvayurappan temple and offer prayers. I am not sure of the reason for the celebration of this Ekadasi or the legend behind it, however from the time I can remember, it has been the norm in my household for the ladies to observe this day.
The reason why I write this article is because; the day has become synonymous in Guruvayur with the memorial day of Gajarajan Guruvayur Kesavan. Guruvayur Kesavan as most Malayalis would know is an elephant that belonged to the temple for sixty years from 1916-1976 and he breathed his last on Guruvayur Ekadasi day. It is said that he fasted the whole day and towards the evening just collapsed with his tusk held high and facing the deity. A death any Bhaktha of the Lord would yearn for. To commemorate the life of this greatest of Bhakthas of the Lord, a life size replica of Kesavan stands at a vantage point in Guruvayur and his tusks encase his photo at the entrance to the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Kerala is the land of coconut palms, backwaters, beautiful temples and wonderful temple festivals. If there is one animal that plays a significant part in the day to day functioning of the temples, it is of course the mighty pachyderms. It is the pride of the temple to own a Pachyderm and there are those temples which own more than one. Sri Krishna Temple being one of the oldest and most revered temples of Kerala; it is but natural that the temple has been gifted with elephants right through its history. At present the temple has over 100 elephants. These elephants are sheltered in a sprawling venue called Punathur Kotta situated about 3kms from the temple. With the temple having enough funds, the elephants are cared for very well and every year they are given a month’s rest when they undergo ayurvedic treatment.
Kesavan the pachyderm belonged to the Nilambur royal family and was donated to the Guruvayur temple in the year 1916 when he was about 12 years of age. His majestic appearance and his fine temperament must have earned him that extra edge for very soon he was brought into the temple for the daily activities. It was just a matter of time before he replaced the erstwhile head Pachyderm Padmanabhan. In his 60 long years of service to the Lord, he has had the privilege of heading all the temple processions and of taking part in the innumerable Sribalis (circumambulation of the sanctum sanctorum) with the Utsava Deity on his back. I don’t think there has been any elephant in the history of the temple or for that matter in the State of Kerala that was as popular as Kesavan. Since he was almost always present in the temple courtyard, a visit to the temple ensured an interaction with Kesavan too. Those were the days when the temple was not as crowded as what it is today and we as kids would place some banana or few coins on the tip of his trunk and he would in turn bless us by placing his trunk on our head. A trip to Guruvayur always seemed incomplete without seeing Kesavan and most devotees would make it a point to go and see him in the grounds adjacent to the temple where he would be tied. Thus Kesavan had become an integral part of the temple and by being so had also become a legend in his life time.
How often does this kind of reverence happen? I am yet to hear of an animal gaining in stature to such dizzying heights so as to be considered as someone next to the Lord. The Hindu puranas have always worshipped animals and all the Gods have had as their vahanas/ vehicles an animal. This is the greatness of the religion which sees all living things in the same light. Thus if Siva has a bull, then it is a mouse for Vinayaka, a peacock for Muruga, a garuda for Vishnu and thus the list goes on. If our ancient scriptures can extol the virtues of these animals and if our religious beliefs can make us accept them as being holy, I see no reason as to why Kesavan the pachyderm cannot be considered in league with the other revered animals which are the vahanas of specific Gods. If in future the historians consider writing once again the history of The Sri Krishna Temple and that of Lord Guruvayurappan, I am sure they would refer to Kesavan as the vahana of the Lord. Sixty years is not a small duration and I am sure there will not be another elephant that will be get this opportunity.
If the 16th and 17th Centuries produced two of the greatest devotees of the Lord, namely Poonthanam who wrote the Njanappaana and Melpathur Narayana Bhattathiri who wrote the Narayaneeyam, it is my strong opinion that the 20th century has had only one undisputed devotee and that is none other than Guruvayur Kesavan. The two above mentioned poets have been honoured with their statues inside the courtyard of the temple and in case of Melpathur; the Narayaneeyam is played every day in the morning. Kesavan is omnipresent in Guruvayur and from every nook and corner his picture on wall hangings calls for our attention. Kesavan’s picture adorns the walls of so many Malayali homes and his story is something that every school going child knows. If the talk is about elephants, (which is a common topic of conversation in Kerala) it is sure to steer towards Kesavan for all Pachyderms are always compared to the mighty Kesavan.
It is 33 years since his death, but his legend lives stronger than ever before. He is definitely the Gajarajan (King among elephants) a title endowed on him for his fifty years of service to the Lord. His life was special and the grandest finale to life which is death was even more stupendous. The multitudes of true bhakthas who live on this planet cannot even dream of a mukthi like the one given to Kesavan.
It is very rare for someone to be earmarked for something special and in keeping with the Hindu belief, it just shows that that someone need not always be a homo sapien, the so called highest of creation. I consider myself blessed to have lived in the era of this Blessed Bhaktha.
Posted by Usha Kumar at 2:15 AM
4 comments:
Mohan Kumar said...
Very Enlightening even for some for some of living in Kerala. Incidentally, we will be going to Guruvayur next week and will certainly this perspective in mind.
December 3, 2009 12:38 AM
Sankaran said...
I am aware that elephant is considered as a holy animal and it is a common sight in Tamilnadu and Kerala to find one or more elephants in all big temples. I never thought that Guruvayur elephant had gained stature to such dizzying heights so as to be considered as someone next to the Lord.
December 5, 2009 12:31 PM
Geeta said...
Another thorough research, Usha. Great info!
December 8, 2009 5:35 AM
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
A Rip Off that Ripped Off.
Just yesterday, I was trying to update the phone book on my mobile as there were far too many numbers which were either defunct or belonging to people whose specific purpose is over. Thus I came across the only celebrity number in my list and pondered as to the need the number will have for me in future. I was sure there will not arise any need for that number, but then one can never say for if that be the case, how did the number find a place in my scheme of things? Anyway I have retained it for the time being and will consider deleting it after having a word with my niece for it was she who was responsible for the number finding a place in my mobile phone.
The number belongs to a so called top designer of Chennai and the story of how I found myself in his studio makes interesting reading. I may sound over enthusiastic when I write about my niece Preetha. But then I have to be because she is one over enthusiastic person. The summer of 2008 saw her spend two months with me in India. This was something she wanted to do and so she made the journey by herself and gave us the pleasure of her company. She is a vivacious youngster so interested in all that happens around. She loves Chennai and she loves all the people who frequent the house. She enjoys meeting people and she loves getting to know them. She totally involves herself in all the happenings and to put it in a nut shell, it was a wonderful treat having her here with us.
Most of her needs were simple and things I could fulfill. However there was this one thing she wanted and for that I was at a total loss, not knowing whom to turn to. She wanted to make a party dress for her upcoming Junior Prom party and since she was in India, she thought it a good idea to have one tailor made with an Indian touch. Now the tailors I know are my blouse and salwar suit tailors and both of them have no clue of anything beyond their expertise. I tried asking a couple of friends and they too were very vague of how to go about the same. Preetha felt that for the money she would spend in the US for an off the rack dress, she could get something personal and one of a kind from here. Finally we nailed the person whom we felt would have an idea of such matters. Our guess was correct and the said person had the names of a list of designers. Since it meant Greek and Latin to me, I told the friend that I would leave the choice to her. Thus on a Friday afternoon after fixing an appointment, the three of us went to the exclusive studio of the designer.
The studio was a three storey building and it was done up in a way that I did not think much about. It reminded me of pictures of boudoirs that I had seen in movies. The colours too were garish to go along with the boudoir theme. There were pictures of his star clients dressed in his creations and thus I came to know as to whom among the glitterati of Chennai turned to him to look their “best”. On the first floor was his office and we were ushered in by an assistant and there perched on the table was the designer. To me he seemed more a model for other designer products, what with a Gucci eyeglasses resting on his head and a designer belt to hold his designer jeans around his 24inches waist. The white shirt that he wore I would like to presume was his own creation, for isn’t it right to assume that a top designer will sport at least one piece of his own creation?
Had I been given a choice, I would have walked out of that studio at that point. But the only reason I stayed on was because I trusted my friend in these matters. Preetha at that point was so excited and thus without giving scope for looking around or making a decision, the dress was ordered. Measurements were taken and a date was given for the trial. I was happy, because by then my sister Latha would be in town and thus the responsibility would not be mine any more. Although we had set a limit on the cost, no questions were asked and thus we came out not knowing what we were in for.
On the trial day Latha too came along. The dress looked gorgeous, however it was not fitting and hence some alteration was called for. The designer was in a haste to catch a flight and thus we were left with his Mom to take care of our needs. The mother as advised by the son handed over a bill which exceeded our budget by more than a couple of thousands. Since the designer had left, there was no one we could question and thus came out paying the amount. At that point I felt like the prey in the spider’s web. The sweet talk and enthusiasm that was in plenty during our first trip had dissipated. One reason for this could be the fact that we were one time customers.
Preetha got over her initial shock at the cost and fortunately seemed happy at the outfit. She promised herself that she would lose some weight before her Prom date. The Prom was more than 6 months away and every now and then when we spoke the talk of the dress would come up. Thus the date of the Prom arrived and Preetha’s excitement knew no bounds. When the zip had to be fastened, it refused to budge and on using force the fastener just gave way. It seemed for a few minutes that total chaos reigned. Preetha was shattered and she had to in the eleventh hour look for an alternative. Latha who is very deft with her hands, saved the day and thus the evening went off without any wardrobe malfunction. I really wish that they would send the dress back, for then I could go and meet the designer. Although I have met him twice, I never had a conversation, for he may have thought me not worthy of his time. This would definitely be my chance to pin him down.
Preetha’s senior Prom is fast approaching; however she is dead sure about not ordering another outfit. The prêt a porter dresses though not personal are surely dependable. In the meantime I see pictures of the designer regularly in the papers and the latest one was of his birthday bash were he along with his famous clientele were posing in Victorian/Tudorian outfits. They looked ridiculous and I had a hearty laugh recollecting the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes.
PS. The number will be retained in order for me to have the last word.
The number belongs to a so called top designer of Chennai and the story of how I found myself in his studio makes interesting reading. I may sound over enthusiastic when I write about my niece Preetha. But then I have to be because she is one over enthusiastic person. The summer of 2008 saw her spend two months with me in India. This was something she wanted to do and so she made the journey by herself and gave us the pleasure of her company. She is a vivacious youngster so interested in all that happens around. She loves Chennai and she loves all the people who frequent the house. She enjoys meeting people and she loves getting to know them. She totally involves herself in all the happenings and to put it in a nut shell, it was a wonderful treat having her here with us.
Most of her needs were simple and things I could fulfill. However there was this one thing she wanted and for that I was at a total loss, not knowing whom to turn to. She wanted to make a party dress for her upcoming Junior Prom party and since she was in India, she thought it a good idea to have one tailor made with an Indian touch. Now the tailors I know are my blouse and salwar suit tailors and both of them have no clue of anything beyond their expertise. I tried asking a couple of friends and they too were very vague of how to go about the same. Preetha felt that for the money she would spend in the US for an off the rack dress, she could get something personal and one of a kind from here. Finally we nailed the person whom we felt would have an idea of such matters. Our guess was correct and the said person had the names of a list of designers. Since it meant Greek and Latin to me, I told the friend that I would leave the choice to her. Thus on a Friday afternoon after fixing an appointment, the three of us went to the exclusive studio of the designer.
The studio was a three storey building and it was done up in a way that I did not think much about. It reminded me of pictures of boudoirs that I had seen in movies. The colours too were garish to go along with the boudoir theme. There were pictures of his star clients dressed in his creations and thus I came to know as to whom among the glitterati of Chennai turned to him to look their “best”. On the first floor was his office and we were ushered in by an assistant and there perched on the table was the designer. To me he seemed more a model for other designer products, what with a Gucci eyeglasses resting on his head and a designer belt to hold his designer jeans around his 24inches waist. The white shirt that he wore I would like to presume was his own creation, for isn’t it right to assume that a top designer will sport at least one piece of his own creation?
Had I been given a choice, I would have walked out of that studio at that point. But the only reason I stayed on was because I trusted my friend in these matters. Preetha at that point was so excited and thus without giving scope for looking around or making a decision, the dress was ordered. Measurements were taken and a date was given for the trial. I was happy, because by then my sister Latha would be in town and thus the responsibility would not be mine any more. Although we had set a limit on the cost, no questions were asked and thus we came out not knowing what we were in for.
On the trial day Latha too came along. The dress looked gorgeous, however it was not fitting and hence some alteration was called for. The designer was in a haste to catch a flight and thus we were left with his Mom to take care of our needs. The mother as advised by the son handed over a bill which exceeded our budget by more than a couple of thousands. Since the designer had left, there was no one we could question and thus came out paying the amount. At that point I felt like the prey in the spider’s web. The sweet talk and enthusiasm that was in plenty during our first trip had dissipated. One reason for this could be the fact that we were one time customers.
Preetha got over her initial shock at the cost and fortunately seemed happy at the outfit. She promised herself that she would lose some weight before her Prom date. The Prom was more than 6 months away and every now and then when we spoke the talk of the dress would come up. Thus the date of the Prom arrived and Preetha’s excitement knew no bounds. When the zip had to be fastened, it refused to budge and on using force the fastener just gave way. It seemed for a few minutes that total chaos reigned. Preetha was shattered and she had to in the eleventh hour look for an alternative. Latha who is very deft with her hands, saved the day and thus the evening went off without any wardrobe malfunction. I really wish that they would send the dress back, for then I could go and meet the designer. Although I have met him twice, I never had a conversation, for he may have thought me not worthy of his time. This would definitely be my chance to pin him down.
Preetha’s senior Prom is fast approaching; however she is dead sure about not ordering another outfit. The prêt a porter dresses though not personal are surely dependable. In the meantime I see pictures of the designer regularly in the papers and the latest one was of his birthday bash were he along with his famous clientele were posing in Victorian/Tudorian outfits. They looked ridiculous and I had a hearty laugh recollecting the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes.
PS. The number will be retained in order for me to have the last word.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Phenomenon
As an Indian I could as well have committed hara-kiri than make the statement that I am about to make. But then each human being is entitled to his or her say and thus I continue to make my statement, which is that “I am not a fan of Sachin Tendulkar.” You can for instance not be a fan of so many things which are patriotic and yet go scot free but to not to be a fan of Sachin and still be a true Indian may be something unheard off or practically impossible. That is the sweep this 36 year old Indian cricketer has on the 1.1 billion cricket crazy Indians living in India and on most of the diaspora spread all over the world. This phenomenal rise of a middle class Mumbaiiker is unmatched and beyond any comparison.
India has been a cricketing nation for over a hundred years and the country has in the due course produced astounding batsmen and bowlers. However there have been limits to their reach and accordingly to their popularity. Sachin Tendulkar’s rise in the world of cricket can be compared to mythological phoenix which soars high and lives for over 1000 years. To hold centre stage in the competitive world of today’s cricket for 20 years is no mean task. The form in which he is now definitely ensures many more years of mesmerizing cricket. I am not here to write about the records created by Sachin, for he has broken all the previous records held by various batsmen in the different cricketing countries and is now the holder of all records put together. Ask a ten year boy in India as to how many centuries Sachin has scored in tests and pat would come the reply. Or ask another 10 year old of his ODI centuries and without batting an eyelid, they are out with the answer.
The youth of today are in so much of awe of the one and only Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, who they have seen right from their infancy to their adulthood. I am sure his must be one of the faces they would even associate with the television. Some of his present day team mates come from this generation and from what we hear, he shares an excellent rapport with them. It is said that he is a TEAM MATE. He has won all the cricketing awards many times over and as far as his career goes there is only so much more he can achieve. The back breaking T-20 format would definitely be a bit hard on him; however there is nothing to stop this cricketer from pursuing excellence. The fire that started burning very early in his life continues to do so and I wont be wrong if I say that that fire is at its brightest now. Does that mean we will have Sachin playing for another twenty years? Much as many big names like Lata Mangeshkar and Amitabh Bachan would want that to happen, the truth is that it will not be so for like in all things in life, changes are inevitable.
I too must have heard the name Sachin Tendulkar during the year 1988 when two 15 year old school friends took the cricketing world by storm with their histrionic performance of scoring a mammoth unbeaten 664 run partnership. The other friend was Vinod Kambli who also wore the India cap. I did not get to watch his first series in Pakistan nor his second one in New Zealand. Both these series as far as the player went, were nothing great to write home about, however the third series he played was in England in the year 1990 and as luck would have it, I was there that summer holidaying with my sister and brother in law and thus got to watch most of the matches on television. What made the experience worthwhile was the fact that my brother in law is an ace cricketer. There was this one point in his life when he was contemplating between a career in medicine and cricket. I don’t know if cricket’s loss turned out to be the medical world’s gain; however what I can say is that he is a great doctor and has been judged as the best teacher in MUSC, US for a record number of times. Now coming back to the game of cricket at Old Trafford in August 1990 - the two of us would watch it together; I had to remain a mute spectator, for he did not like any distraction while watching. However during the breaks, he made sure he explained the nuances to me. I grabbed in a lot from him during the few summers I spent with them in the UK. He was keen on watching Sachin, for he too was seeing him in action for the first time. Another player whom he was interested in was Anil Kumble. Two reasons for the interest were, one the fact that he was a spinner (which my brother in law too was) and second he came from the state of Karnataka (my brother in law’s home state)
Thus that summer via the small screen I imbibed a lot of cricket, I also learnt the social ethics of the crowd, the enthusiasm of the Indian supporters, and so on and so forth. Although the match ended in a draw, the feather in the cap was the Man of the Match being awarded to Sachin Tendulkar. This did not come as a surprise for he had scored a half and full century and had also taken a couple of catches. It was indeed a moment of pride for us Indians to see the cherubic teenager come over and collect his award. What left us feeling sad was the fact that he was too young for the big bottle of Champagne that went with the award. I am sure he must received hundreds of awards later, but what makes me happy is that fact that I witnessed live his first test century and clapped till my palms pained when he received his first International Award.
Among the many things he holds precious which I am sure will include his various cricketing memorabilia, the innumerable awards, the raciest cars that are his passion, the thirteen one rupee coins given to him by his mentor Ramakant Achrekar, and the heartfelt good wishes of his country men, I wonder whether that unopened bottle of “Bubbly’ finds a place.
God Bless this great man, God Bless his parents who brought him to this world and God bless all those who were instrumental for the cricketing world to have a Sachin Tendulkar. One thing I hope I have made myself clear, by not being his fan, I was not trying to say that he is not good enough. I don’t care for the fan concept and to me unnecessary adulation only results in a person’s downfall.
I wonder how much longer we will have to wait before a similar phenomenon to the one that occurred on 24th April 1973 will recur.
India has been a cricketing nation for over a hundred years and the country has in the due course produced astounding batsmen and bowlers. However there have been limits to their reach and accordingly to their popularity. Sachin Tendulkar’s rise in the world of cricket can be compared to mythological phoenix which soars high and lives for over 1000 years. To hold centre stage in the competitive world of today’s cricket for 20 years is no mean task. The form in which he is now definitely ensures many more years of mesmerizing cricket. I am not here to write about the records created by Sachin, for he has broken all the previous records held by various batsmen in the different cricketing countries and is now the holder of all records put together. Ask a ten year boy in India as to how many centuries Sachin has scored in tests and pat would come the reply. Or ask another 10 year old of his ODI centuries and without batting an eyelid, they are out with the answer.
The youth of today are in so much of awe of the one and only Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, who they have seen right from their infancy to their adulthood. I am sure his must be one of the faces they would even associate with the television. Some of his present day team mates come from this generation and from what we hear, he shares an excellent rapport with them. It is said that he is a TEAM MATE. He has won all the cricketing awards many times over and as far as his career goes there is only so much more he can achieve. The back breaking T-20 format would definitely be a bit hard on him; however there is nothing to stop this cricketer from pursuing excellence. The fire that started burning very early in his life continues to do so and I wont be wrong if I say that that fire is at its brightest now. Does that mean we will have Sachin playing for another twenty years? Much as many big names like Lata Mangeshkar and Amitabh Bachan would want that to happen, the truth is that it will not be so for like in all things in life, changes are inevitable.
I too must have heard the name Sachin Tendulkar during the year 1988 when two 15 year old school friends took the cricketing world by storm with their histrionic performance of scoring a mammoth unbeaten 664 run partnership. The other friend was Vinod Kambli who also wore the India cap. I did not get to watch his first series in Pakistan nor his second one in New Zealand. Both these series as far as the player went, were nothing great to write home about, however the third series he played was in England in the year 1990 and as luck would have it, I was there that summer holidaying with my sister and brother in law and thus got to watch most of the matches on television. What made the experience worthwhile was the fact that my brother in law is an ace cricketer. There was this one point in his life when he was contemplating between a career in medicine and cricket. I don’t know if cricket’s loss turned out to be the medical world’s gain; however what I can say is that he is a great doctor and has been judged as the best teacher in MUSC, US for a record number of times. Now coming back to the game of cricket at Old Trafford in August 1990 - the two of us would watch it together; I had to remain a mute spectator, for he did not like any distraction while watching. However during the breaks, he made sure he explained the nuances to me. I grabbed in a lot from him during the few summers I spent with them in the UK. He was keen on watching Sachin, for he too was seeing him in action for the first time. Another player whom he was interested in was Anil Kumble. Two reasons for the interest were, one the fact that he was a spinner (which my brother in law too was) and second he came from the state of Karnataka (my brother in law’s home state)
Thus that summer via the small screen I imbibed a lot of cricket, I also learnt the social ethics of the crowd, the enthusiasm of the Indian supporters, and so on and so forth. Although the match ended in a draw, the feather in the cap was the Man of the Match being awarded to Sachin Tendulkar. This did not come as a surprise for he had scored a half and full century and had also taken a couple of catches. It was indeed a moment of pride for us Indians to see the cherubic teenager come over and collect his award. What left us feeling sad was the fact that he was too young for the big bottle of Champagne that went with the award. I am sure he must received hundreds of awards later, but what makes me happy is that fact that I witnessed live his first test century and clapped till my palms pained when he received his first International Award.
Among the many things he holds precious which I am sure will include his various cricketing memorabilia, the innumerable awards, the raciest cars that are his passion, the thirteen one rupee coins given to him by his mentor Ramakant Achrekar, and the heartfelt good wishes of his country men, I wonder whether that unopened bottle of “Bubbly’ finds a place.
God Bless this great man, God Bless his parents who brought him to this world and God bless all those who were instrumental for the cricketing world to have a Sachin Tendulkar. One thing I hope I have made myself clear, by not being his fan, I was not trying to say that he is not good enough. I don’t care for the fan concept and to me unnecessary adulation only results in a person’s downfall.
I wonder how much longer we will have to wait before a similar phenomenon to the one that occurred on 24th April 1973 will recur.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
A Joyful Duty
I am tired. Yes, I am tired; tired of doing all the things I enjoy doing. This statement in itself seems so contradictory and almost impossible. People may want to know as to what I did that has made me so tired. Well, I did the following, I chatted up with innumerable number of people, went around the city doing things I love to do, dressed far too many times in whatever finery I possess and finally dined and feasted to my heart’s content. Perfectly pleasant tasks which I enjoy utmost and hence should never ever complain. However when they come in overdose, it definitely makes one tired. The reason for this overdose which just concluded last night was the wedding of my good friend’s daughter. My involvement began right from the word go which was about 15 months ago and lasted till the very last dinner connected with the marriage which happened last night. I know for sure the celebration as far as this wedding goes is over for the boy and girl are now air borne and by the time they come back, they will no more be the newly married couple.
I have heard of the Big Indian Weddings; however t his was the first time that I was closely connected to one. Much as we claim to be modern and our generation even boasts of doing away with stereotyping, one thing that has not changed is the urge of the parents to see their little girls married. The marriage age may have pushed upwards from the 18-20 years bracket to the 23-25 year bracket, but nevertheless it is very much there and the concept is as strong as what it was from time immemorial. I have seen mothers whose daughters have crossed the imaginary 25 years deadline remain remorse and depressed. I don’t blame them a wee bit for I am sure I would be in the same boat when my time comes. Thus my friend had started the spade work a couple of years ago and by God’s grace she could find the suitable boy for her daughter before the imaginary deadline loomed large. It must be said that her daughter who was well placed in a career outside India was willing to relocate when made to understand the importance of matrimony. There is nothing that the children of today are unaware off and the fact that she did lend an ear to her parents advise in itself calls for a celebration. It could also be that the boy had swept her off her feet and thus made her want to spend the rest of her life with him. I doubt very much as to any sweeping happening, for one thing that I have realized about modern day marriages is that there is no room for unnecessary ROMANCE. There may be plenty of courtship, but as far as romance and chivalry goes, it takes a big backseat.” He came, he saw and he conquered” kind of marriages seem to totally be a thing of the past. Girls these days are so practical and know exactly how they want their lives to be. So if they agree for a marriage, they make sure that at least 75% of what they have in mind is met in the groom.
Thus the wedding was fixed and the planning began. My friend is a great planner and an even greater executor. Since she had a 15 month period to go about her meticulous execution, I must say that she made full use of the time and as a result did a wonderful job of it. The first thing on her itinerary was to fix the marriage hall, for if getting a groom is a difficult proposition, getting a good wedding hall in Chennai is something even more difficult. With the hall in hand she began going around looking for caterers, the back drop, the marriage card, the never ending guest list and so many nitty gritty things of which I was not aware. Slowly the silver was purchased and then the gold and then the give away saris and other mementos to go with the wedding card. Trips were made to “TOWN’ (areas in and around Parry’s Corner is still referred thus) to procure things in bulk. I was amazed at all the happenings for I had not witnessed anything thus in close quarter. In my community weddings are a simple 10 minute affair which does not call for anything so elaborate. The only weddings I was involved were that of my sisters and since my parents were still in the midst of things, they took care of all the arrangements. My job was to take part in the shopping which was nominal and the invitation distribution. Thus I would keep asking her as to why she was in a hurry to get so many things done and she would say, well you don’t know as to how much of a rush there would be at the last minute.
How true her words turned out to be. Prior to the wedding there were four functions (in total six) and then the big wedding which was attended by about 1800 people. Venues had to be decided for the smaller functions and caterers had to be arranged, invitations had to be distributed and so on and so forth. My physical presence in all these activities were minimal however I was kept in the know how during our daily phone calls. Most of you may not be aware that my friend and I go back a long way. We have known each other for more than four decades. We meet at least once a week and talk to each other for a minimum period of thirty minutes daily. I was indeed proud of my friend when on the day before the first function when the silver and other things had to kept in the respective trunks, she had them all ready. She had also designated specific jobs to the close circle of relatives and friends and thus had covered all avenues. There was absolutely no confusion on the day of the marriage; everybody went about the work they were entrusted with. The whole ceremony went off so beautifully and I really wonder even if the presence of a much hyped wedding planner would have brought about so much of efficiency.
Now I realize the meaning of the age old saying which goes thus, “Try building a house, try getting your daughter married”. I have in a decent manner finished the first task. I think age was with me for it happened 27 years ago. It almost seems like child’s play when compared to the second one. I truly wonder as to how I will go about orchestrating so many people and before things reach that stage, I wonder as to how I will convince my little one of the importance of matrimony or of having found the perfect match. I still have at least a decade to go and in the meantime let me get tutored from my friend a second time around for she is planning to have her son’s marriage in a year’s time.
I will leave her in peace for a couple of days for I am certain that she needs that rest to pull herself together for a repeat performance.
I have heard of the Big Indian Weddings; however t his was the first time that I was closely connected to one. Much as we claim to be modern and our generation even boasts of doing away with stereotyping, one thing that has not changed is the urge of the parents to see their little girls married. The marriage age may have pushed upwards from the 18-20 years bracket to the 23-25 year bracket, but nevertheless it is very much there and the concept is as strong as what it was from time immemorial. I have seen mothers whose daughters have crossed the imaginary 25 years deadline remain remorse and depressed. I don’t blame them a wee bit for I am sure I would be in the same boat when my time comes. Thus my friend had started the spade work a couple of years ago and by God’s grace she could find the suitable boy for her daughter before the imaginary deadline loomed large. It must be said that her daughter who was well placed in a career outside India was willing to relocate when made to understand the importance of matrimony. There is nothing that the children of today are unaware off and the fact that she did lend an ear to her parents advise in itself calls for a celebration. It could also be that the boy had swept her off her feet and thus made her want to spend the rest of her life with him. I doubt very much as to any sweeping happening, for one thing that I have realized about modern day marriages is that there is no room for unnecessary ROMANCE. There may be plenty of courtship, but as far as romance and chivalry goes, it takes a big backseat.” He came, he saw and he conquered” kind of marriages seem to totally be a thing of the past. Girls these days are so practical and know exactly how they want their lives to be. So if they agree for a marriage, they make sure that at least 75% of what they have in mind is met in the groom.
Thus the wedding was fixed and the planning began. My friend is a great planner and an even greater executor. Since she had a 15 month period to go about her meticulous execution, I must say that she made full use of the time and as a result did a wonderful job of it. The first thing on her itinerary was to fix the marriage hall, for if getting a groom is a difficult proposition, getting a good wedding hall in Chennai is something even more difficult. With the hall in hand she began going around looking for caterers, the back drop, the marriage card, the never ending guest list and so many nitty gritty things of which I was not aware. Slowly the silver was purchased and then the gold and then the give away saris and other mementos to go with the wedding card. Trips were made to “TOWN’ (areas in and around Parry’s Corner is still referred thus) to procure things in bulk. I was amazed at all the happenings for I had not witnessed anything thus in close quarter. In my community weddings are a simple 10 minute affair which does not call for anything so elaborate. The only weddings I was involved were that of my sisters and since my parents were still in the midst of things, they took care of all the arrangements. My job was to take part in the shopping which was nominal and the invitation distribution. Thus I would keep asking her as to why she was in a hurry to get so many things done and she would say, well you don’t know as to how much of a rush there would be at the last minute.
How true her words turned out to be. Prior to the wedding there were four functions (in total six) and then the big wedding which was attended by about 1800 people. Venues had to be decided for the smaller functions and caterers had to be arranged, invitations had to be distributed and so on and so forth. My physical presence in all these activities were minimal however I was kept in the know how during our daily phone calls. Most of you may not be aware that my friend and I go back a long way. We have known each other for more than four decades. We meet at least once a week and talk to each other for a minimum period of thirty minutes daily. I was indeed proud of my friend when on the day before the first function when the silver and other things had to kept in the respective trunks, she had them all ready. She had also designated specific jobs to the close circle of relatives and friends and thus had covered all avenues. There was absolutely no confusion on the day of the marriage; everybody went about the work they were entrusted with. The whole ceremony went off so beautifully and I really wonder even if the presence of a much hyped wedding planner would have brought about so much of efficiency.
Now I realize the meaning of the age old saying which goes thus, “Try building a house, try getting your daughter married”. I have in a decent manner finished the first task. I think age was with me for it happened 27 years ago. It almost seems like child’s play when compared to the second one. I truly wonder as to how I will go about orchestrating so many people and before things reach that stage, I wonder as to how I will convince my little one of the importance of matrimony or of having found the perfect match. I still have at least a decade to go and in the meantime let me get tutored from my friend a second time around for she is planning to have her son’s marriage in a year’s time.
I will leave her in peace for a couple of days for I am certain that she needs that rest to pull herself together for a repeat performance.
Monday, November 2, 2009
An Averse Acceptance
Ever since it was advertised that KFC-the American fast food restaurant was opening shop on Nungambakkam High Road at a short distance from my house, my daughter’s joy has seen no bounds. She is a great fan of the KFC chicken and not a day would pass without her peeping in to see if the shop had opened. The shop did finally open and Sridevi may be one of the initial customers to make a purchase. I did not accompany her on that day; however I went in a couple of days ago to order a meal for her. As I was coming out of the shop, I started thinking of the metamorphosis the road had undergone. Here was KFC at what used to be the house of one of our school mates. It had long ceased to be their house and was sold to other establishments before the latest occupant moved in.
With these thoughts in my mind, I tried to remember the glorious era of Nungambakkam High Road (NHR) during the 60’s and 70’s when I was a student of the Good Shepherd Convent. This road which takes off from the arterial Mount Road is less than two kilometers in length and ends at the Village Road (Now Valluvar Kottam High Road) junction. It was then a truly majestic road, with beautiful houses which boasted of well manicured gardens. It had a serene atmosphere and during the evenings when the sea breeze set in, both the sidewalks were perfect promenades. We as children would have criss-crossed that road a thousand times. It would either be to Sudha’s house to finish a project or to Lalitha’s house to pick up some things for a dance practice or to Meera’s house just to spend the day or to Madhulika’s house to clear a doubt. All these houses cease to exist now. For that matter there are no more independent houses on NHR. It has now become a hub of commercial activities what with the latest branded arrivals to the city making a beeline for it or to it’s off shoot the Khader Nawaz Khan Road. Between these two roads there is everything that the rich and the elite need.
The only commercial establishments on NHR of the 70’s were Gift Land and Shastri Enterprises. Two Mom and Pop stores whose mainstay was the students of Good Shepherd. It had all the stationary we ever needed and also innumerable comics and story books of the times. All our gift requirements were met in these two establishments and a birthday meant that we would dive in and after some negotiations come out with a perfect bargain. Gift Land closed shop a couple of years ago, however Shastri Enterprises still exists without much change to its old avatar. It is now a haunt frequented by Sridevi and her generation. To me it feels as if Shastri Enterprises is something personal which I bequeathed to my daughter. The first time something big came to NHR was when the Taj Group of Hotels decided to open their first property and thus was born Taj Coromandel. It was something Madras had not seen. Its more regal cousin (much later) the Connemara was the only elite hotel in the city and thus the new arrival was seen with awe. Its stately façade still gives it all the respect it deserves.
Gemini studios which occupied one of the corners of NHR and Mount Road was a leader when it came to the Indian Film industry. However with location shooting gaining popularity, they too had to shut down and in its place sprung a few hundred commercial establishments and residential apartments. Now the compound boasts of a series of Parsn Buildings. The latest to be included to this conglomerate is the Park Hotel – the most happening place for the hip hop crowd of Chennai. Another institution to have burgeoned on NHR is the MOP Vaishnava College for Women - a new entrant in women’s education. The fact that it is on NHR gives the girls that not so needed uppity attitude.
The road is now studded with far too many commercial establishments and with a new mall all set to make its appearance, a hundred high end stores can be expected. All the international sportswear brands have an outlet on this road and this includes Reebok, Adidas, Puma and Nike. Then there are the Marks and Spencers, United Colors of Benetton to name a few of the international brands. As for the made in India variety, there are far too many, what with Raymonds, Park Avenue & Louis Phillipe, Wills Lifestyle, Auroville and Cotton World all having their flagship stores. As for the trendy traditional wear, all the happening stores are situated in this stretch starting with Evoluzione to Rehane to Erum Ali to Satya Paul and ending with the much hyped Man Mandir and Signoraa. With so many stores one would think that all the clothing needs of the family would be met, but that is not to be. For to find a matching blouse fabric or a child’s daily wear clothes or a simple home wear outfit, the residents have to burn the precious fossil fuel and travel a few kilometers to the neighbouring T. Nagar. Even the Cottage Industries Exposition situated on NHR can only be frequented by the crème de la crème thanks to its exorbitant price tags. Of all the stores on the road, the one I walk in the most is the Landmark Book store, (although a bit pricey) which made its entry in 1987. It is ultimate to any book lover. When I talk of NHR, I do have to mention the pride of place which the Government Offices occupy. Like the affluent shops that are situated on the road, the two Central Government Offices which function here are also rich with income for they are the Income Tax and Central Excise offices.
The road has had a complete makeover and is now devoid of any past vestiges. The break from the past is total, for officially too its name has changed. It is no more NHR, but instead on a patriotic note, it has been renamed as UTTAMAR GANDHI SALAI which when translated loosely means Flawless Gandhi Road. It is really ironical that this High End Road should have been christened thus for the name seems to be in total contrast to all the establishments present here. But then who am I to complain on such a matter, for if MONT BLANC can have their most expensive pen named after one of the most simplest men of our times, it seems just fine to have this up market Chennai road named in honour of the same simple man. The fallout of this christening may take a positive turn when the future generations while in the midst of their shopping and other activities take a second off to ponder on the origin of the name. Until then my generation has no choice but to put up with this incongruity.
With these thoughts in my mind, I tried to remember the glorious era of Nungambakkam High Road (NHR) during the 60’s and 70’s when I was a student of the Good Shepherd Convent. This road which takes off from the arterial Mount Road is less than two kilometers in length and ends at the Village Road (Now Valluvar Kottam High Road) junction. It was then a truly majestic road, with beautiful houses which boasted of well manicured gardens. It had a serene atmosphere and during the evenings when the sea breeze set in, both the sidewalks were perfect promenades. We as children would have criss-crossed that road a thousand times. It would either be to Sudha’s house to finish a project or to Lalitha’s house to pick up some things for a dance practice or to Meera’s house just to spend the day or to Madhulika’s house to clear a doubt. All these houses cease to exist now. For that matter there are no more independent houses on NHR. It has now become a hub of commercial activities what with the latest branded arrivals to the city making a beeline for it or to it’s off shoot the Khader Nawaz Khan Road. Between these two roads there is everything that the rich and the elite need.
The only commercial establishments on NHR of the 70’s were Gift Land and Shastri Enterprises. Two Mom and Pop stores whose mainstay was the students of Good Shepherd. It had all the stationary we ever needed and also innumerable comics and story books of the times. All our gift requirements were met in these two establishments and a birthday meant that we would dive in and after some negotiations come out with a perfect bargain. Gift Land closed shop a couple of years ago, however Shastri Enterprises still exists without much change to its old avatar. It is now a haunt frequented by Sridevi and her generation. To me it feels as if Shastri Enterprises is something personal which I bequeathed to my daughter. The first time something big came to NHR was when the Taj Group of Hotels decided to open their first property and thus was born Taj Coromandel. It was something Madras had not seen. Its more regal cousin (much later) the Connemara was the only elite hotel in the city and thus the new arrival was seen with awe. Its stately façade still gives it all the respect it deserves.
Gemini studios which occupied one of the corners of NHR and Mount Road was a leader when it came to the Indian Film industry. However with location shooting gaining popularity, they too had to shut down and in its place sprung a few hundred commercial establishments and residential apartments. Now the compound boasts of a series of Parsn Buildings. The latest to be included to this conglomerate is the Park Hotel – the most happening place for the hip hop crowd of Chennai. Another institution to have burgeoned on NHR is the MOP Vaishnava College for Women - a new entrant in women’s education. The fact that it is on NHR gives the girls that not so needed uppity attitude.
The road is now studded with far too many commercial establishments and with a new mall all set to make its appearance, a hundred high end stores can be expected. All the international sportswear brands have an outlet on this road and this includes Reebok, Adidas, Puma and Nike. Then there are the Marks and Spencers, United Colors of Benetton to name a few of the international brands. As for the made in India variety, there are far too many, what with Raymonds, Park Avenue & Louis Phillipe, Wills Lifestyle, Auroville and Cotton World all having their flagship stores. As for the trendy traditional wear, all the happening stores are situated in this stretch starting with Evoluzione to Rehane to Erum Ali to Satya Paul and ending with the much hyped Man Mandir and Signoraa. With so many stores one would think that all the clothing needs of the family would be met, but that is not to be. For to find a matching blouse fabric or a child’s daily wear clothes or a simple home wear outfit, the residents have to burn the precious fossil fuel and travel a few kilometers to the neighbouring T. Nagar. Even the Cottage Industries Exposition situated on NHR can only be frequented by the crème de la crème thanks to its exorbitant price tags. Of all the stores on the road, the one I walk in the most is the Landmark Book store, (although a bit pricey) which made its entry in 1987. It is ultimate to any book lover. When I talk of NHR, I do have to mention the pride of place which the Government Offices occupy. Like the affluent shops that are situated on the road, the two Central Government Offices which function here are also rich with income for they are the Income Tax and Central Excise offices.
The road has had a complete makeover and is now devoid of any past vestiges. The break from the past is total, for officially too its name has changed. It is no more NHR, but instead on a patriotic note, it has been renamed as UTTAMAR GANDHI SALAI which when translated loosely means Flawless Gandhi Road. It is really ironical that this High End Road should have been christened thus for the name seems to be in total contrast to all the establishments present here. But then who am I to complain on such a matter, for if MONT BLANC can have their most expensive pen named after one of the most simplest men of our times, it seems just fine to have this up market Chennai road named in honour of the same simple man. The fallout of this christening may take a positive turn when the future generations while in the midst of their shopping and other activities take a second off to ponder on the origin of the name. Until then my generation has no choice but to put up with this incongruity.
Monday, October 26, 2009
An Inspiring Story
I am at a loss for words when it comes to writing about our one and only Dominic. I can only say that he is so pivotal to our being and thus is an integral part of us. Although we had no role in his initial appearance, now we cannot imagine our lives without him. I always knew that when we plan something, it never works to plan, but on the other hand when things happen by accident, they become the perfect foil. A look at Dominic’s association with our family will make the latter seem so true.
When we began the construction of our house in 1983, Dominic was brought in by the contractor as a watch man. He was a young lad then and his job was to take care of all the building material stored in the venue. Since there was an existing building half demolished, he spent the nights there and managed his meals in the most rudimentary fashion. I would like to elaborate on his background. He has schooled only till the 5th standard and came from the village of Vedanthangal. This was his first exposure to the city and he had no clue of how to tackle life in Nungambakkam. While he was a watchman, I vividly remember him falling ill and his coming to see us with his head and body covered in fine red dust from the bricks stacked in the premises. He just seemed like the thousands of migrant workers who dot the various construction sites. At that point I never ever dreamt that he would have a future worthwhile. It seemed to me then that his life would also take the same uneventful course of the millions in India who come from similar background. How wrong I was to be proved and how glad I am about that.
Once the house was completed and his tenure with us over, he was asked to go to another site by the contractor. It was at that point that Dominic asserted himself and told the contractor that he would like to stay back. My parents were willing to have him, but they were not in need of a watchman. Thus my mother found him a job at a friend’s nursing home just a stone’s throw from the house and Dominic was retained. The association between the family and Dominic was symbiotic. He found a home in our house and we found a help, a watchman and a gardener in him. In short all I could say was that he became indispensable. Another relationship which nurtured at that point was between Dominic and my cousin Raju. Although Raju is a few years younger, they became good friends. This friendship almost took Dominic to another plane. He must have when he took the decision to stay behind with us decided to change his life style. Nungambakkam must have had its effect and he wanted to see himself in better light. Raju taught him all that he needed and thus Dominic learnt to speak and read basic English. He also began to follow sports including Cricket, Football and Tennis on television. During each of my trips to India, I could literally see the blossoming of Dominic.
In 1993 his marriage was fixed and after the same he moved to a place two streets from our house. However his association with us continued in the same manner and he made sure that he came over thrice a day, at morning, evening and night and anytime in between when he was needed. Just a phone call and Dominic was with us. His professional skill by then had gone up in leaps and bounds. He had started of as an errand boy at the Nursing Home, but his initiative and hard work saw him climb the ladder and in a few years time he had become an accomplished technician. Thus Dominic was the assistant at the Pathology Lab, as well as the X-Ray and ECG technician and a theatre assistant whenever required. He could perform these various roles with precision and panache. His knowledge too improved and he was up to date on all world happenings. He could decently carry out a conversation in English and it seemed as if nothing would miss his senses. When we heard good comments about him from our friends, we were indeed so proud. It was as if the accomplishments of one in the family were being praised. Coming to think of it, we cannot think of him as not being one of us.
Now Dominic is the father of two adorable daughters – Monica and Martina (I don’t have to tell you as to how those names came about) who are studying in the 11th and 7th grade respectively. In the mean time he continues in his role as a competent technician not in one but in two nursing homes. He has an additional responsibility in our house and that is taking care of our Prince. His day starts at 5 in the morning and ends at 10.30-11pm. He works hard and he strives to give his family a good living. Although he could have at any time asked us for help to make ends meet, he has never ever done so. He carries his responsibilities as if they were gifts from the Almighty and he carries them well. There is many a lesson for all of us to learn from him. I admire the way he runs his household. He meets the needs of his wife and children to the best of his abilities and he also makes the lives of those in his family comfortable. He is source of solace to many and is able to carry on in his grinding cycle with the most pleasant temperament. Our children are so fond of him and he plays with them as a youngster would do absolutely without any inhibition. Even in the most crucial moments of his life, he has been able to remain stoic. I wonder how he can do so, it could be his faith in his Gods, or it could be the respect for his elders or it could be the dedication to his work or it could be his gratefulness for what he has been blessed with.
Dominic continues his routine on his cycle and is a very popular figure in the Nungambakkam area. Much as we offered to get him a motor bike, he was against it for he feared he may not be able to afford the prohibitive fuel cost. There is many a thing that the youngsters of today have to learn from him. To me he is perfect role model to emulate and much more than that he is truly a blessing to Sowparnika (our home) - a place he has been associated with for the last 27 years.
When we began the construction of our house in 1983, Dominic was brought in by the contractor as a watch man. He was a young lad then and his job was to take care of all the building material stored in the venue. Since there was an existing building half demolished, he spent the nights there and managed his meals in the most rudimentary fashion. I would like to elaborate on his background. He has schooled only till the 5th standard and came from the village of Vedanthangal. This was his first exposure to the city and he had no clue of how to tackle life in Nungambakkam. While he was a watchman, I vividly remember him falling ill and his coming to see us with his head and body covered in fine red dust from the bricks stacked in the premises. He just seemed like the thousands of migrant workers who dot the various construction sites. At that point I never ever dreamt that he would have a future worthwhile. It seemed to me then that his life would also take the same uneventful course of the millions in India who come from similar background. How wrong I was to be proved and how glad I am about that.
Once the house was completed and his tenure with us over, he was asked to go to another site by the contractor. It was at that point that Dominic asserted himself and told the contractor that he would like to stay back. My parents were willing to have him, but they were not in need of a watchman. Thus my mother found him a job at a friend’s nursing home just a stone’s throw from the house and Dominic was retained. The association between the family and Dominic was symbiotic. He found a home in our house and we found a help, a watchman and a gardener in him. In short all I could say was that he became indispensable. Another relationship which nurtured at that point was between Dominic and my cousin Raju. Although Raju is a few years younger, they became good friends. This friendship almost took Dominic to another plane. He must have when he took the decision to stay behind with us decided to change his life style. Nungambakkam must have had its effect and he wanted to see himself in better light. Raju taught him all that he needed and thus Dominic learnt to speak and read basic English. He also began to follow sports including Cricket, Football and Tennis on television. During each of my trips to India, I could literally see the blossoming of Dominic.
In 1993 his marriage was fixed and after the same he moved to a place two streets from our house. However his association with us continued in the same manner and he made sure that he came over thrice a day, at morning, evening and night and anytime in between when he was needed. Just a phone call and Dominic was with us. His professional skill by then had gone up in leaps and bounds. He had started of as an errand boy at the Nursing Home, but his initiative and hard work saw him climb the ladder and in a few years time he had become an accomplished technician. Thus Dominic was the assistant at the Pathology Lab, as well as the X-Ray and ECG technician and a theatre assistant whenever required. He could perform these various roles with precision and panache. His knowledge too improved and he was up to date on all world happenings. He could decently carry out a conversation in English and it seemed as if nothing would miss his senses. When we heard good comments about him from our friends, we were indeed so proud. It was as if the accomplishments of one in the family were being praised. Coming to think of it, we cannot think of him as not being one of us.
Now Dominic is the father of two adorable daughters – Monica and Martina (I don’t have to tell you as to how those names came about) who are studying in the 11th and 7th grade respectively. In the mean time he continues in his role as a competent technician not in one but in two nursing homes. He has an additional responsibility in our house and that is taking care of our Prince. His day starts at 5 in the morning and ends at 10.30-11pm. He works hard and he strives to give his family a good living. Although he could have at any time asked us for help to make ends meet, he has never ever done so. He carries his responsibilities as if they were gifts from the Almighty and he carries them well. There is many a lesson for all of us to learn from him. I admire the way he runs his household. He meets the needs of his wife and children to the best of his abilities and he also makes the lives of those in his family comfortable. He is source of solace to many and is able to carry on in his grinding cycle with the most pleasant temperament. Our children are so fond of him and he plays with them as a youngster would do absolutely without any inhibition. Even in the most crucial moments of his life, he has been able to remain stoic. I wonder how he can do so, it could be his faith in his Gods, or it could be the respect for his elders or it could be the dedication to his work or it could be his gratefulness for what he has been blessed with.
Dominic continues his routine on his cycle and is a very popular figure in the Nungambakkam area. Much as we offered to get him a motor bike, he was against it for he feared he may not be able to afford the prohibitive fuel cost. There is many a thing that the youngsters of today have to learn from him. To me he is perfect role model to emulate and much more than that he is truly a blessing to Sowparnika (our home) - a place he has been associated with for the last 27 years.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Fly On The Wall
It goes without saying that I am a history buff. My trip to any place remains incomplete, if I have not seen sights that pertain to its history. This being the case, most of my holidays are planned to include places of historical importance. Of all the places I have visited, the one that has made me gawk and look up in awe is definitely Rome – The Eternal City. Almost every building had a story to tell and most of them have stood the test of time. The Roman Forum, Coliseum, Pantheon and of course the Vatican, were mind boggling. As for the catacombs which have been in existence for more than two thousand years, the feel was one of being spell bound. It was during that trip that I first felt as to how nice it would be if I could go back in time. Rome made me want to go back in time by two thousand years whereas each time I read the history of the city of my birth; it brings in me the urge to go back by a few hundred years. Chennai or Madras is a city founded by the British in the year 1639. Prior to the arrival of the British, Madras was a group of villages which were ruled by the kings of the Vijayanagar Kingdoms. I have never passed Fort St. George and the stretch of beach in front of it, without wondering as to how it must have been on August 22nd 1639 when Francis Day landed at that spot. The Luz Church which has been in existence from the year 1516 is another monument that always excites me. I have read and re read the tombstones which date back to that time frame. I have wondered as to how it must have been to those Portuguese sailors who landed at Mylapore on a stormy night and who were led by a divine light to the spot and where they deemed it fit to build a church. The latest in a long list of instances when I wanted to ride the time machine was on a holiday to the south of Tamilnadu namely Tranquebar or Tharangambadi in local lingo.
The name Tranquebar does have in it a sense of tranquility. Definitely the name must have been derived from the local name Tharangambadi which means the “singing waves”. It must be these singing waves that would have lured the Danes to lay anchor there. Tranquebar situated on the East Coast of India about 300kms south of Chennai was a Danish Settlement from the year 1620-1845. It was one among the half a dozen Danish settlements in India but it was also the most prominent. When India was the treasure trove and all the nations were plundering it, the Danes did not want to be left behind and thus Captain Ove Gjedde along with his men set foot on our soil at this very place. The King of Thanjavur was magnanimous and thus handed over the land for the settlement. The Captain set out on the first task which was to build a fort and thus Fort Dansborg was built as the Governor’s residence. The fort still stands good and can be seen from far. In fact the yellow colour of the fort shines like a golden structure on a bright sunny day and cannot be missed. Being away from the British and the French colonies on the East Coast, the Danes were not involved in the bickering that always took place between the English and the French. Tharangambadi has the distinction of being the centre for the Lutheran Movement in India. The first Protestant missionaries to set foot in India were two Lutherans from Germany, Bartholomäus Ziegenbalg and Heinrich Pluetschau, who began work in 1705 in this settlement. They translated the Bible into the local Tamil language, and afterwards into Hindustani. Tranquebar also has the distinction of having one of the earliest printing presses in India. It was from here that the Bibles were printed and sent to the rest of the country. Thus this miniscule place on the map of the country has played a very significant role in its history.
Most of this I had read prior to my visit to Tranquebar. I was keen to remember as to when I first heard about Tranquebar and realized that it was in the early 80’s when we had bought the plot of land to build our present house. Two houses down the road was a Boys’ Home and this was run by the Danish Lutheran Mission. I was curious to see the name Danish and on reading the board, I came to know that the mission was head quartered in Tranquebar. This came as a real revelation for me. The only colony to my knowledge which the Danes possessed was Greenland. I had not known of them as sea farers who came as far as the East Coast of India to colonize. The information was immediately stored in my grey matter. Recently, I met a gentleman who works for the Lutheran Church and is in India to oversee the fund distribution to their various projects. He told me in detail the importance of Tranquebar as far as the Lutheran church went. He also mentioned that most of the help provided by the mission was for work in and around Tranquebar. This information helped to resurface the little I knew about the place and thus when an opportunity came my way, I decided to include Tranquebar as part of the trip.
Tharangambadi cannot boast of a European design or architecture. It is a small town with a reasonably broad road which is flanked by buildings most of which are churches or other religious buildings. Some of the old buildings that have survived have an imprint of the colonial era. The main attraction is the fort. It is considerably smaller than the various other forts that I have come across. However it is very well preserved and is definitely a beauty. Sitting on its rampart and looking at the sea would turn anyone into a litterateur. I must say that I thoroughly enjoyed the walk of the fort and of the storehouses on the ground floor. The fort also houses a small museum which showcased coins and other articles of that period. We had our lunch at the restaurant called Bungalow on the Beach, which I learnt was the living quarters of the British Governor. In 1845 after the Napoleanic War in Europe, the Danes sold all their holdings in India to the British and thus from 1845 – 1947, the place was ruled by the British. The Bungalow has been tastefully restored to its old glory. The Danish governor’s Bungalow which is older is being renovated now.
I enjoyed the couple of hours I spent there and I relished the exotic sea food that I had for lunch. However I had a hundred questions which I wanted answered. First and foremost I was keen to know as to why the Danes did not expand their territorial hold. Since they had a lead over the British in terms of their arrival to India, why did they not utilize this advantage? Were they keen on respecting the agreement with the local rulers? Were their intentions only to get a foothold in the country for purposes of trade or was there a religious connotation to it? At that moment, I really wished I could go back in time and thus get the answers to all my queries. Oh how I wish I could have in these instances at least been the FLY ON THE WALL.
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