Madras of the 1890's

The Library of Congress' World's Transportation Commission photography collection has come rather interesting snap-shots of the World as it was in the mid-1890's. The entire itinerary that the commission followed is available here.

Below are two snapshots of my native city - Chennai (formerly Madras) in South India.

Madras High Court 1890s


Madras Central 1890s

In memoriam - M.S.Subbulakshmi, 1916 - 2004

Bharat Ratna and noted Carnatic music exponent M.S.Subbulakshmi (Madurai Shanmukhavadivu Subbulakshmi) passed away on Saturday, December 11, 2004 in Chennai India, at the age of 88.

Blessed with subliminal and possibly unparalleled talent for song, this "Nightingale of India" helped popularize the classical art form in India and elsewhere. And being born into a family of music lovers, I got lucky at an early age and grew up listening to M.S.S's songs on tape and radio.

The haunting and mesmerizing soulfulness of her voice is perhaps best illustrated in that equally haunting song "Kaatrinilae Varum Geetham" from the movie Meera. Her fluid voice, combined with an incredible vocal range and delivery served to remind me of the waters of a brook gliding ever-so-gently over rocks, lolling the listener into a peaceful frame of mind.

Like I mentioned above, my family is a musically-oriented family with spiritualism thrown in for a good measure. As a result, we were exposed to the great bhajans and hymns and chants that are part of a practising Hindu's culture. Chief among them is the ode to the rising light of the morning.. the Suprabhatam. And MSS wove her way into countless peoples morning experiences just by the sheer strength of her vocal delivery reciting.."Kausalya Supraja Rama Poorva Sandhya...". You could argue that if you had listened to someone else recite the Suprabhatam, and listened to it with the regularity that was paid to the MSS version, that would have the same appeal to it too. But, this is one of the unusual cases where the message matters, and so does the messenger.

Essentially, I guess it was the reassurance of hearing that soothing voice reciting that sloka with resonance, that put to rest any apprehension that I may have of facing the upcoming day. Similarly, her recital of Bhaja Govindam, Vishnu Sahasranaamam and Hanuman Chalisa, and her ability to be crystal-clear in pronunciation and enunciation of the Sanskrit words of these verses, has me enthralled in a way, that I will forever struggle to put that into words.

MSS' contribution to this world, if measured by the sheer number of peoples hearts she touched through her song alone, would be as close to a Herculean task as there can be. But she did not stop there, and strove to donate to charity at all available opportunities.

It is said that she rarely ever sings with her eyes opened. And for whatever the reason maybe, traditional prayers as taught to us by our parents meant that we closed our eyes and tried to concentrate on God. Hence this practise of hers was one of those implicit actions that appealed to the heart and spoke volumes of her sincerity of recitals. I do hope many of the current crop of singers would take up on similar traditions and keep the torch of classical Indian music burning high and bright.

But, her appeal was not restricted to just carnatic or classical music alone. Her famous rendition of that pan-Indian song - Vaishnava Janato, is easily one moving experience. And that song devoted to Lord Krishna - Kurai Ondrum Illai, which apparently was her signature ending to inevitably all concerts..well it is an apt encore to any concert.

My appreciation of her unique talent and ability is despite the fact that I am, you could say, musically as talented as a braying donkey. But her singing has always managed to ensnare my senses and thrown me into raptures of emotion. Thank god for the excellent invention that is the magnetic tape, and the compact-disc digitized music.

Now, even though the original beacon has attained samadhi at the feet of the Lord, we will get to hear her in unadulterated purity and sincerity through discs and tapes.

She believed that with her talents she was just relaying Gods message to the listening public. If that is indeed the case, one could easily make the argument that she did what was charted out for her, with a flourish and in a manner that far exceeded what was probably expected of her.

And we, the public - that got the magnificent opportunity to listen to her up-close and personal, either in live concert in one of the many excellent concert venues in Chennai or through the medium of TV or radio - are truly blessed to have had that opportunity.

I pray that her soul rests in peace, after having provided so much peace to her listeners.

M.G.Emu's of Chennai...

(Thanks Pradeep for reminding me that I've not written about trains yet...)

Those of you in the know (and by that I mean, who have lived a significant amount of time in Chennai, especially the central and southern parts) must have come across the stock of the M.G. Electric Multiple Unit trains rolling and yawing and gently lolling along the iron tracks doing their regular runs between suburban Tambaram and Chennai (Madras) Beach Jn.

M.G.Emus...erstwhile lifeline of south Madras, now relegated to the scrap heap...(photo courtesy IRFCA,photo copyright "Poochi Venkat"

The venerable old trains are no longer in service though, removed from service when the clock struck midnight and turned onto July 1, 2004.

The moon only serves to enhance the nightfall on the life and times of the M.G. Emu in Chennai. This long exposure night shot in the wee early hours of July 1, 2004 just after the last commercial MG Emu service had been run, serves as a poignant reminder to something we will not see again in Chennai..the gently rocking and rolling pitter-patter of these trains....photo courtesy IRFCA,photo copyright "Jason Antony"

Ever since the humble beginnings as a direct current driven three-car rake in April 1931, these trains evolved into the conscience of people who grew up along the route served by the trains. So much, that they became part of the social life. It was not uncommon to see people fraternizing amongst fellow-travellers. Many a life-long friendships were born in the often-crowded, usually-cramped, but always rolling and rocking and lolling cars of the local trains (as they came to be called in the parlance that is uniquely desi). And this affection extended to the trains as well..so much so that people sent the train off in variously unique and not-so-unique ways. And the venerable Southern Railway, bless their souls, even accepted to run a special on July 1 just to honor the sentiment of the hundreds of thousands of riders.

Who says machines cannot evoke emotions from people? These people, apparently regular users of the services, were distributing candies and sweets as parting gift to the riders of the last train....(photo courtesy IRFCA,photo copyright "Poochi Venkat"

Yours truly fell in love with them sometime during the early 80s, when the rapidly burgeoning population of suburban southern Madras began to rely more on these to get to their destinations. Through the years, it evolved into more avatars than the average Bollywood movie star changes clothing during one song. But unlike the movie stars though, the avatars were never garish, and always beneficial..

My earliest recollection of these cutesy trains were when they were in off-white or silvery painted livery. They then went Gang Green....as in, Southern Railway went ahead and re-painted them rakes in a deep green, which, IMO was the best livery that these trains have ever had. Though they never made a comeback on the venerable MG rakes, they are now widely prevalent in their successor - the wide-bodied BG rakes.

The Green Monster...not the one in Boston's Fenway...but the massive one that runs now in place of the MG Emus in Chennai...these trains provide enhanced capacity and increased rider comfort, but they are so plastic and do not have half the charm of the trundly MG trains. And they are BIG.. photo courtesy IRFCA,photo copyright "Poochi Venkat"

But the livery that has been the most prevalent is the ones you see in the first photo above. In between undergoing cosmetic changes though, the trains underwent functional changes as well. Reflecting increased ridership, 8-car rakes were made into 9-car rakes. Improved signalling and increased coordination with the city government led to reduction of number of grade-crossings (level-crossings in Indian parlance) which then improved the punctuality.

Ultimately, what stands out for me is the fact that these little trains, restricted to operative speeds of 55kmph could still give you the impression of speed, what with the way it would huff and puff and trundle merrily, rolling and weaving its way through the city. And during those times when Chennai gets lashed by rains and roads are akin to navigating an obstacle course, it is these venerable trains that gave the safe way of passage to many commuters.

And now that these trains are out of service, it is time to move on and establish bonds with the beasts that have replaced them..the huge and impersonal looking widebody EMUs. But hey, isnt it only a matter of time before people fall in love with the BG emus as well?

Nanganallur, Chennai

I am a red-blooded Madrasi (Chennaiite, for the PC folks) - I was born in Hyderabad but my family moved down to Nanganallur when I was just 8 months old...and thats where I grew up. And unlike many of the younger generation, I grew up appreciating the benefits of an independent home. No messy community living for me...no flats, no apartments, no sir. Hey, how can I appreciate apartment-style living, when I grew up in a house, that was in the midst of lush green paddy fields, which provided so much open space.

When I was growing up, Nanganallur was that TamBram (Tamil Brahmin) suburb, and people who could afford to commute to the city, would move here for the fact that the local municipality had bothered tapping the waters of the River Palar, to provide drinking water supply. But what was left unsaid, was that it was then, the perfect suburb. Peace and quiet, away from the city, and literally an oasis of green - what with agricultural lands and coconut palms everywhere the eye can sweep. And oh, before I forget to tell ya, it is also a mini-Kancheepuram. A mini temple town. Famous for as long as I can remember for its Raja Rajeswari Temple and the Dakshina Mantralayam (Shri Raghavendra Mutt) and the Ardha Nareeshwara Temple, it provided peace and tranquility, relief away from the stresses of everyday life.

Anyways, the point of this post is that, this morning I received a message from my friend in Madras (Chennai). She had gone to visit the Shri Viswaroopa Adi Vyadihara Bhakta Anjaneya Temple, in Nanganallur. To the uninitiated, this is the big temple that has come up in Nanganallur in the past decade, and now ranks as possibly the most popular temple in the metropolitan Madras area. And it is also a prime example of commercialization that has hit Nanganallur quickly and in huge waves. People who would not have otherwise given one second of their thought to Nanganallur, now go about thinking..hey...lets go visit the Anjaneya temple there.

If you go visit Nanganallur now, it is almost unrecognizable as a town of peace and quiet. Heck even the Metropolitan Transport Corporation went ahead and established a bus stand for the town - something that the residents had been clamoring for, for over a decade and half. People are everywhere, it is crowded quite like Ranganathan Street in T.Nagar. And, the Alandur Municipality, with its weird decision making abilities, decided to re-route the Palar water supply to Tambaram, and left Nanganallur at the mercy of Chennai's famed Metrowater.

Development has not left Nanganallur as what it used to be..an oasis of peace. Instead, it is now just another overcrowded suburb of that great urban sprawl that Chennai has become.

I have seen the town grow in front of me. I have seen the rock being brought in to Nanganallur - that same rock which was later exquisitely carved into what is the current Bhakta Anjaneya. I have seen the unborn idol soaking up in the pit that was specially designed for the carving. I have been part of a time when it was served by just one measly bus service - the 18D. When the Pazhavanthangal suburban railway station was not even in existence. And boy, most all things that we wished for when we were the earlier residents of that town, are slowly coming to fruition. Proof that you gotta be careful of what you wish for, eh?

For all that it maybe, it is still one place that no one can change it - my hometown, the little village that became a town, while making a man out of me.

From Talakanancheri Village of the taluk of Meenambakkam to the current day avatar of Nanganallur...its been a long journey. Vive Nanganallur!