Talk of the Town

by Jerry Pinto

  Many empires ruled over the Coromandel Coast and the neighbouring regions. Of them, the Pallavas were great builders of large temples—like the Kapaleeshwarar at Mylapore and the Shore temple at Mahabalipuram. Trade also brought in communities from all over the world. The Muslim population in this part of the world emerged much earlier than elsewhere on the subcontinent. Besides, there is a widespread belief that Jesus’ apostle Saint Thomas, came to India in AD 52 to spread his teachings in Asia. He is said to have preached from a hillock in the southwest region of the city before being assassinated in AD 70. Sites linked to Saint Thomas have been enshrined through many centuries, first by ancient local Christians and then by the Portuguese, who arrived in the 1500s. They were surprised and exhilarated and built the Sao Tome port in honour of the apostle. Some decades later, the Dutch established themselves near the region of Pulicat at the northern part of the city. It was in the seventeenth century that the great battleship of colonialism—the British East India Company—appeared on the horizon to change things irrevocably.

  At first, the Company only set up a small factory there. They chose a village called Durgarazpatnam (which of course they could not pronounce and referred to as Armagaon), about thirty-five miles north of the Dutch settlement.

  At that time, factories were not large buildings housing machines, but small compounds where traders kept records, organized manufacturing workshops with artisans and established local markets. The Company wanted to get involved in the trade and production of calico cloth, which had by then become extraordinarily popular in Europe. The British soon realized that Armagaon was not an ideal port and went looking for a better location. In the 1630s a Company officer, Francis Day, sailed down the Coromandel Coast looking for suitable alternatives. In those days, a king called Chandragiri ruled the coast. His kingdom comprised a number of districts governed by chiefs, referred to as Nayaks. Francis Day’s interpreter, a local man called Beri Thimmanna Chetti Dubash, happened to know one of these Nayaks—Damarla Venkatadri Nayakadu, through his (the Nayak’s) brother—Ayyappa. Ayyappa managed to convince his brother to lease a strip of beach to Francis Day. In return, he would get trade benefits, horses from Persia and army protection.

  On 22 August 1639, Francis Day signed an agreement with the Nayak. The British East India Company would be given a strip of land three miles or 4.82 km in length and a fishing village called Madraspatnam. Andrew Cogan, an official of the Company, endorsed the grant of land and a year later, the Company opened a factory there. Some historians consider the three main actors in the drama, Francis Day, Beri Thimmanna Chetti and Andrew Cogan to be the founders of contemporary Chennai.

  Soon after, a number of British officers settled in large colonial homes. Their neighbourhood was referred to as the ‘White town’. When Indians came to live close by, their locality was, predictably, called the ‘Black town’. The grant between the Nayak and the Company was renewed in 1645 with some added benefits for the Company. It allowed the Company control of an additional piece of land called Narimedu (the ‘jackal ground’) that lay west of the settlement. It also allowed them to set up a court and mete out justice.

  The question of justice was important since the ‘Black town’ was full of artisans, workers and craftspersons. The Company was constantly looking for ways to ‘discipline’ them into becoming better workers. The natives were, after all, the weavers and painters of the precious cloth that the Company exported to Europe. By appointing themselves as mediators in local conflicts—usually sectarian—the Company asserted its authority in the region in insidious ways. As the population of the natives increased, so did the desire of the Company to consolidate its power. The growth of the settlements was caused by the prosperity that came with a profitable trade in cotton and opium—the chief investments of the Company.

  In those early years, three officials governed the Indian town: the adhikari (who dispensed justice), the kanakkupillai (his assistant) and the padda naick, the chief watchman (who kept order in the streets, arrested thieves and brought them to trial). There were many Indian merchants in the Company as well as those who lived in the ‘Black town’. The seniors among them were termed the Company’s Chief Merchants, while the agents and brokers of individual English merchants were called the Dubashes.

  In 1687, the Corporation of Madras was established, the very first municipal organization to be set up in India. It was the brainchild of Sir Josiah Child, then the chairman of the East India Company. Child was also responsible for the inauguration of the first hospital in the country, the General Hospital at Fort St. George. It moved to its present location in 1772 but opened its doors to Indians only seven decades later!

  In the third decade of the eighteenth century, the Company added a new area to the town that specialized in weaving. It permitted only spinners, weavers, washers, painters and the necessary attendants of temples to settle in it. The logic of setting up such a town was based strictly on the economic needs of the Company. It reflected little knowledge of the intricacies of the social life of the natives. No wonder, for decades after, officials found themselves investing a huge amount of energy just managing the conflicts that inevitably erupted there. Sometimes the conflicts were caused by quarrels over routes for marriage and funeral processions and sometimes over the choice of symbols and trappings that adorned their processions and pandals. It was an exciting but volatile place, which certainly did not allow for political stability.

  No wonder that in the year 1746, the French, under General La Bourdonnais (who also happened to be the governor of Mauritius) captured the fort and the city. According to some historians, the French army plundered a village in the region and demolished the ‘Black town’.

  The British regained control of the city in 1749 after signing the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. They rebuilt the ‘Black town’ and re-christened it George Town. Subsequently, the fort grew stronger and withstood several attacks, though it was destroyed rather savagely once again and was rebuilt from scratch. It is the 1783 version of the fort that exists today.

  Those years were bloody, with frequent battles being fought with the French at Vandavasi (Wandiwash) and the Danish at Tharangambadi (Tranquebar). They also fought Haider Ali and Tipu Sultan in their attempts at expanding their territory in the hinterland. Eventually the British triumphed. They made sure that the French dominions were reduced to a handful of small coastal enclaves. The city soon expanded to include the neighbouring villages of Triplicane, Egmore, Purasawalkam and Chetput. Together this township was called Chennapatnam.

  In 1785, the city’s first newspaper, the Madras Courier came out. This year marked an important transition point in the city’s history. Madras emerged as a major naval base and eventually the administrative centre of the British Empire in southern India. The city of Madras became the capital of what came to be referred to as the Madras Province. The city’s harbour, with a busy port connecting Europe to India became the economic engine of the province. It was around this time that the Government Survey School was started in Fort St. George. This was the first school of engineering outside Europe.

  The early decades of the nineteenth century witnessed the setting up of a major textile company by John Binny; an unusual mosque—Wallajah in Triplicane—which was constructed entirely of grey granite with no iron or wood; and the completion of the St. George’s Cathedral, with its 140-foot-high spire. These three very different buildings added their distinctive shapes to the temple-dotted landscape of the city, and made visible its rich cosmopolitan spirit. It was a spirit that had evolved over two centuries through the intermingling of many castes and ancient Christian and Muslim communities.

  In the nineteenth century, Madras was a leading business city in the Indian peninsula. It continued to attract traders from different parts of the country and some even from Europe. It had an excellent educational centre—the Presidency College—and a rich intellectual life symbolized by the establishment of Higginbothams, a chain of bookshops (which grew i
nto a large network of bookshops across the country).

  The Spencers (of Marks and Spencer fame) started a small business here in 1864 and went on to become one of the biggest department stores in Asia of that time. Other companies to set up shop in the city include Gordon Woodroffe, Best and Crompton, Hoe and Co. and P. Orr & Sons. The same century saw the establishment of the Madras Museum, Madras University, a teachers training college, and the first railway line in the south that linked the city (from the new railway station, Royapuram) to Arcot.

  In 1878, the newspaper The Hindu commenced publication and about a decade later, Helena Petrovna Blavatsky and Colonel Henry S. Olcott established the Theosophical Society—fountainhead of diverse and intense spiritual traditions. The society was instrumental in getting Swami Vivekananda to deliver seven historic lectures in the city.

  The early twentieth century saw the setting up of a suburban electric train service and helped make Madras one of the most modern cities in Asia, giving Bombay and Calcutta some stiff competition.

  During those years, the élite of the city could enjoy their weekends in diverse ways. They could go to the Electric Theatre or Gaiety to watch a silent film, enjoy a play at the Lyric Theatre on Mount Road, appreciate a Western music concert, dance a waltz or a foxtrot, visit the National Art Gallery, attend a Carnatic music recital at the music Academy or enjoy a Bharatanatyam performance at the famous Kalakshetra.

  Madras stepped early into the world of movie making. Samikannu Vincent, an employee of the South Indian Railway, was one of its first eminent film personalities. He started by purchasing a film projector and spools of silent films from a Frenchman called Du Pont, to set up a business as a film exhibitor and then went on to become an important producer.

  In 1916, R. Nataraja Mudaliar, an automobile spare parts merchant, launched the India Film Company Limited. He built a film studio on Miller’s Road, Purasawalakam. His first film was Keechaka Vadam (1917), the story of how Bhima slew King Keechaka in the Mahabharata. Madras got its first talkie studio in 1934. It was set up by A. Narayanan, who produced the first Tamil talkie, Srinivasa Kalyanam that very year. Menka (1935), based on a popular Tamil stage play, was one of the earliest Tamil films with a contemporary theme and story.

  The city’s radical politics shaped many of its movies. Madras was centre for a vibrant cultural-political movement from the late nineteenth century. It was led by Periyar E.V. Ramaswamy. Periyar was initially a follower of Gandhi but developed a strong anti-brahminical, rationalist and atheistic ideology that shaped the city’s political imagination. He established the Dravidar Kazhagam, a forum that brought together radical and modern ideas, which stridently questioned caste, theism and gender inequalities.

  Not surprisingly, the world of politics, culture and cinema fused effortlessly in the city, evident clearly in the emergence of C.N. Annadurai, one of the most charismatic personalities of south India, who made his entry into cinema in the late 1940s. He was also a writer and an influential speaker and went on to become a major political figure.

  In recent times, Madras has had its name changed to Chennai, though locals still use the old name. The city built on its strong mercantile base and quickly developed into an industrial city. It came to be referred to as the automobile capital of India (or the Detroit of south Asia). Besides cars, it produces petrochemicals, textiles and clothes, and is home to the software services, hardware manufacturing and financial services industries. Since the late 1990s, software development and outsourcing of business processes have emerged as major contributors to the city’s economy.

  Of course, it also continues to produce movie stars with strong political inclinations!

  Growing up with Lemon

  C.S. Lakshmi

  Growing up in Bangalore, Chennai was always associated with the Tamil magazines that came home. The Diwali issues were a special treat. We saved up our money for them and on Diwali morning after we had had our fill of idlis, chatni, molagappodi, murkku, jilebi and other snacks, we headed to the magazine shop in the market to buy the Diwali issues. Most magazines had a children’s section but there were also magazines meant especially for children and young people. There were few children’s magazines till 1947 although the first children’s magazine in Tamil called Bala Deepikai was published in 1840. In 1947, Chandamama with its mythological stories and classical and folk stories was born. It was called Ambulimama (Uncle Moon) in Tamil. However, between 1947 and 1952 many periodicals for children were started. One of them was Kannan published from the Kalaimagal group of magazines. Kannan, of course, was named after the child Krishna who was fondly called Kannan in Tamil. The butter-stealing Kannan has always represented naughty and lovable children in Tamil Nadu just like elsewhere in India. If Ambulimama told us about mythological heroes, about demons and demonesses and tales of Arabian nights, Kannan was more contemporary. It had regular stories, fortunately with no morals, and some wonderful poems. We did not grow up with nursery rhymes but with Bharati’s songs for children. With magazines like Kannan came poets for children like Al Valliappa and Lemon whose real name was Lakshmanan. Al Valliappa was everybody’s favourite but Lemon, who worked with the Kalaimagal group, was an unusual poet who could turn anything into a poem for a child. He wore soda-water-bottle-thick glasses and did not look as if he could make a child laugh but we roared at his poems.

  Under her pen name Ambai, C.S. Lakshmi is one of the best-known writers in contemporary Tamil literature.

  Kannan also held regular competitions in which it selected interesting novels for children and young people. Those of us who wanted to write often began by writing in Kannan for we felt as if the magazine belonged to us. There was also Kalkandu (Rock Sugar) which was brought out by Tamizhvanan and was considered more adventurous and youthful. In hat and dark glasses, Tamizhvanan was the symbol of Kalkandu. His ‘Question and Answer’ section was famous for its sarcastic, humorous, irreverent and upfront replies. A young girl who was an avid reader of Kalkandu once wrote and told him that she needed Rs 20 to buy a sari for her sister whose clothes were torn. She told him she would return him the money when she got a job and her first salary. Tamizhvanan sent the sum by money order. Much later, she returned the money but even when she became a well-known writer, she never forgot that he had taken the request of a young girl seriously.

  Compared to Kalkandu, Kannan was a more serious magazine, which treated story writing and poetry for children as an important matter to be carefully dealt with. So there were Bharati’s songs for Pappa (a girl child) telling her to run about and play and not be slack, the fun-filled poem-songs of Al Valliappa about everything around us, and the poems of Lemon with unusual rhymes and turns, taking us on a roller-coaster ride to different worlds. Very soon, the word Lemon got associated with Kannan, childhood and growing up. It was good to be a young girl then.

  Delhi

  Power city

  Delhi’s story begins with a touch of mythology—a time when history and legend meet and mingle and only the very brave or the very foolish will say that they know which is which. According to legend, the city was the site of Indraprastha, the capital of the Pandavas, the five brothers whose war with their cousins the Kauravas forms an important part of the Mahabharata. Indraprastha was a magical city constructed by Vishwakarma, the Hindu god of architecture. This theory has many takers who believe that there was a village called Indraprastha and that it still existed until around 200 years ago.

  When the famous hotelier Conrad Hilton was asked what were the three most important factors that contributed to making a hotel successful, he said, ‘Location, location, location’. As with hotels, so with cities. Delhi became an important city because of its location. As it was at the heart of the subcontinent, it became the centre of many political upheavals. Its landscape consisted of fields, forests and hundreds of villages connected through elaborate systems of taxation by the different kingdoms and empires that ruled the region.

  Since it also fell on various trade r
outes that connected the sea on the west to the rich kingdoms of the Gangetic plains in the east, it was full of trading townships. These gained in importance under the rule of some prosperous king or the other and eventually became the foundations of a large sprawling city. Some ancient routes also connected it to west Asia and through that to central Asia and parts of Europe. Therefore, it was not surprising to find it attracting the attention of a Rajput king on one hand and a Turkish chieftain on the other.

  If you read the verifiable records, you find a succession of rulers. Around 300 BC, we know that there were many settlements in the area and that it was part of the Mauryan Empire. Next, the Tomara Rajputs ruled the area in the seventh century AD. This was followed by the reign of the Chauhan Rajput kings of Ajmer in the twelfth century. Soon after, the Afghan Muhammad Ghori conquered the region. It was in the thirteenth century AD that Qutb-ud-din Aibak—the first ruler of the Slave dynasty—established the Delhi Sultanate. He is credited with starting the construction of the Qutb Minar and the Quwwat-Al-Islam, the earliest mosque in north India.

  The Slave dynasty was followed by a series of Turkish and central Asian dynasties like the Khiljis, Tughlaqs, Sayyids and Lodhis, all of whom built numerous forts and townships—gradually making up the seven distinct urban precincts of Delhi.