What is happening at Victoria Public Hall?

Work is beginning to happen at the Victoria Public Hall, the stately edifice that the Government has promised to restore to its old glory. But the great secrecy and stealth with which the entire restoration has been planned is causing anxiety to those with the welfare of the building in mind.

 

The renovation has been planned at a cost of Rs 9.75 Crores and the Government has already ordered the eviction of shops fronting the building. The South Indian Athletic Association which was occupying a part of the hall has also moved out. Earlier, the Trust that administered the hall had given returned the premises to the Corporation on the assurance that the building will be restored faithfully and put to good use. The Corporation also identified a firm of architects from Hyderabad who have had extensive experience in renovating heritage structures to scope the work. This was completed in December 2008 and the tendering process was to be completed by the Corporation for identifying contractors by June 2009. The work it was announced would begin in September.

 

What has happened subsequently is shrouded in secrecy. The plans for restoration have not been made public. The work has already begun on the compound wall which the Corporation claims will be a see-through one and will cost Rs 10.00 Lakh. Landscaping work will follow.

 

What is not clear is what the Corporation plans to do with the building itself by way of restoration and also by way of use later. The architects who surveyed the work had according to reliable sources pointed out several aspects of the immediate environment of the hall which needed attention. This included neighbouring buildings which have been built on the compound wall of the hall and which also drain their toilets into the hall’s garden. This matter will have to be addressed before any restoration as such defects need to be corrected before any further work is taken up. According to those in the know, the southern side of the building needs immediate attention as water from drains is collecting here due to improper connections to the main drain and this is causing damp to rise in the walls. This will ultimately affect the stability of the structure any restoration that does not address these issues will prove useless in the long run.

 

Within the building, three out of four staircases leading to the first floor are completely unusable and the stair that leads to the tower has completely collapsed making that part of the building inaccessible. The toilets in the building are completely useless and makeshift toilets and overhead tanks constructed by previous occupants are adding to the dampness and seepage.

 

In all such cases, the site restoration and development, roof restoration and exterior work are to be taken up before such superficial elements as landscaping and compound walls are worked upon. The selection of contractors for the work would also have to be based on a scientific evaluation and materials that need to be used will also have to be tested on site before they are used extensively. The overall area in which the building is located will have to be studied before a conclusion is arrived at on what purpose the building will be used for after restoration. The Corporation has unfortunately not paid attention to any of these aspects and even if it has, it has not made the findings of its study public. So will this effort at restoration be a hotpotch affair in the best Government tradition?

 

Chennai already has the examples of two splendid restorations – the Senate House and the Connemara Public Library, both of which were declared out-of-bounds after the restoration work was completed. This is hardly the way heritage buildings can survive. Will Victoria Public Hall follow suit or will it fare better?

Music and Dance during the Kapaliswarar Temple festivals

Music and dance during the festivals

 

Going by the Gregorian calendar, the first festival of the year at the Mayilai temple is the float or teppotsavam. It is usually held in January. The richly decorated and illuminated float goes around the tank on three successive nights. On the first evening Kapaliswara and Karpagamba represented by Chandrashekhara and His Consort go on the float. On the second and third evenings it is Singaravela. Till a year ago an enormous number of devotees would wait patiently in a queue to board the float and go around the tank in turns. But this was stopped last year following security concerns. Now the Lord goes on His float in solitary splendour while the crowds watch from the banks. Nagaswaram artistes perform on the float on all three evenings.

 

The float festival may have become out of bounds, but the ten day annual brahmotsavam in the month of Panguni (Mar/Apr) is all about participation. On all the days, five deities, Ganesa, Kapaliswara, Karpagamba, Singaravela with consorts and Chandikeswara are brought out in procession twice, once in the morning and again at night in different alankarams and on various mounts. And each day’s procession is accompanied by nagaswaram and tavil ensembles which walk along with the procession and perform at specified spots. A western band also accompanies the deities.

 

During the golden years of nagaswaram, almost every great vidwan has come and performed for the brahmotsavam. The performing of the Mallari when the deities leave the temple is a tradition here. And who better than the famed Semponnarkoil Brothers for this? Ellarvi in his Enge Anna Enge (Amuda Nilayam Publications, 1958) writes of the performance of the brothers during the vrishabha vahanam procession of 1940. As MD Kitta Iyer, a local luminary walked along enjoying the music, he espied Chintadripet Muniswami, a well-known nagaswaram artiste doing the same. Muniswami was not well-to-do and Kitta Iyer had heard that he had been invited to perform that day at a venue outside the city and that he was to get a high fee for it. He had been happy for Muniswami and was shocked to find him in the procession when he should have been performing elsewhere. He therefore asked Muniswami as to what had happened to his concert engagement. Pat came the reply that he had cancelled it for how else could he enjoy the performance of the Semponnarkoil Brothers? Kitta Iyer remarked that the Semponnarkoil Brothers had exacted double their fee. The first was their remuneration and the second was this tribute from a fellow artiste who had preferred to forego an opportunity to earn money.

 

Ellarvi also writes of the festival of 1927 when the Keeranur Brothers Kannappa Pillai and Chinnathambi Pillai who were experts in pallavi rendition performed. Accompanying them on the tavil was Tiruchengattangudi Rudrapathi Pillai. As the pallavi was being performed, Rudrapathi Pillai was energetically playing on the tavil, his body and soul enraptured in the beat. One of his diamond kadukkans worked loose in all the movement and like a shooting star vanished into the darkness. Several saw this and so did Pillai himself. But while they all embarked on a spirited search for the kadukkan, Pillai continued playing without a pause. Such was his dedication. The earring was eventually found and returned to its owner but Pillai’s devotion to his profession was what was on everybody’s lips. There are several colourful tales about TN Rajarathinam Pillai. As is usual, the Mayilai temple claims the credit along with several others for being the first shrine where the maestro made his demand for being taken in procession on a vehicle and refused to accompany the deity on foot. Platforms were constructed at various locations according to old-timers for TNR to dismount from the vehicle and perform. On one occasion TNR demanded complete silence during the procession. How this was achieved with the teeming crowds is not clear today and all went well till the deities reached the first halt. When the time came for the procession to resume, the man-in-charge blew a shrill whistle giving the signal for the bearers to lift the deity. That was enough. TNR announced pack-up and went away.

 

Certain days are more important than others during the ten day festival. The third morning has Kapaliswara borne aloft on the silver Adhikara Nandi. Karpagambal and Singaravelar are borne by veena wielding Gandharva stree and purusha respectively. The whole atmosphere is filled with musical associations for Nandi is considered a master on the maddala. The bearers sway from side to side as they carry Adhikara Nandi and this gives the impression that the Lord is dancing. It is an awe-inspiring spectacle. It is no wonder that this procession inspired Sivan to compose Kaana Kann Kodi Vendum in raga Kamboji. In the word picture it paints of the Adhikara Nandi sevai, this song is unsurpassed. Legend has it that Rukmini Devi and Sankara Menon heard Sivan sing it himself during the procession and it was after this that he was appointed in 1934 as music teacher at what would later become Kalakshetra.

 

On the fifth day the vrishabha vahanam procession takes place late at night. Kapaliswara rides a silver vrishabham or bull while Karpagambal is on a golden vrishabham and Singaravela on a golden peacock. The procession takes the whole night to wend its way around the four Mada Streets and it is early morning and still dark when the five deities are brought to the sixteen-pillared hall on Sannidhi Street. Here, in complete darkness with illumination only by means of gas-lights, camphor is lit and waved for all the deities simultaneously. Then Ganesa circumambulates Kapaliswara and moves into the temple followed by Karpagambal and Singaravela. All is silent for a few moments. The bearers who carry Kapaliswara gird themselves for the grand finale. The deity is borne aloft throughout the procession on thick wooden poles worn smooth by many years of use and carried by hefty and muscular bearers. The men on each side grip the shoulders of the men on the opposite side. Then the band strikes up the English Note composed by Muthiah Bhagavatar and popularised by Madurai Mani Iyer. The men sway from side to side and the awesome mount and its deity dance to the music. As the band picks up momentum so do the men. They throw up the mount and catch it several times, they jump with it and they swoop and straighten themselves. And Kapaliswara comes alive. The priests hold on to the supports to prevent themselves from falling into the crowds below. Flowers and tinsel decorations fall from Kapaliswara as though in benediction on his devotees below. As His Consort and He sway to the music, we are reminded of the song “Maan Ada mazhu aada mangai Sivagami aada”. To the devotees watching it is an enactment of the primordial movement that caused all creation. Each time I see it, I get a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. Then as the band moves over to “He’s a jolly good fellow” (an apt description of Siva), the bearers dance their way to the entrance where there is a step to be negotiated. There is an infinitesimal pause and then the bearers roar in unison, the sound giving them the energy to cross the step, all the while dancing. In a flash Kapaliswara has been carried into the temple and is out of sight. But not out of mind. We wend our way home filled with energy and hope and the confidence that a year from that date we will keep our tryst once more with the Lord and He will dance for us.

 

The seventh day has the car festival when thousands throng the temple and the four streets to witness the procession of five chariots. The eighth day is the most important. Even in Sambandar’s listing of the festivals connected with the temple in his Poompavai Padikam, the eighth day of the Panguni Utthiram festival (the present day brahmotsavam) is the only one among the ten days to merit a mention. In Sambandar’s time it was evidently the day when Siva came out in procession with his eighteen bhoota ganas or ghostly attendants. In time it metamorphosed into something which included Sambandar. Perhaps he was responsible for the change. For this is the day when Siva comes out in procession with his 63 devotees, the Arupattu Moovar, all of them preceding him in palanquins, with their faces turned towards him; their palms pressed together in adoration. The morning witnesses a re-enactment of the Poompavai episode and in the afternoon the procession begins. Deities from other temples join the procession and lakhs of devotees throng the area. Pandals are put up at all locations and water, cold drinks and food are distributed to the throng by devotees. Some of the tanneer pandals as they are called, have a hoary history themselves, going back as they do by many years. Watching the response to this festival in 1928, S Satyamurty hit upon the bright idea of selling khadi to the public during the procession in the subsequent year. And selling it were none other than SG Kittappa and KB Sundarambal. Later KBS would recall that she bore bundles of khadi on her back and sang songs to attract the public. Not that they would have needed anything more to attract them than the mere star presence of the duo. A unique song associated with the Arupathu Moovar festival is the Vazhinadai Chindu, written by an anonymous poet in the early years of the 20^th century. It describes in Chindu format, the route taken by a beau and beloved of George Town to attend the Arupathu Moovar festival. The song describes several landmarks of Chennai.

 

On the ninth day, Siva comes as Bhikshatana, the handsome beggar who seduced the wives of the sages of Darukavana. In the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries, Doraikannu, the Devadasi of the temple would lead this procession dressed as Bhikshatana herself and her dance would thrill the audience. Papanasam Sivan came to Madras the year Doraikannu died and so the two perhaps never met. But he too was greatly inspired by the Bhikshatana procession to compose songs for the occasion. There are three songs Saundarya Vellantanil (raga Mohanam), Tiruvalar Mayilayin (raga Khamas) and Picchaikku Vandiro (raga Surutti) describing this event. The last song is in the form of a ninda stuti. In addition, one more song Kapali Karunainidhi (raga Hamsadhvani) sings of both the Adhikara Nandi and the Bhikshatana processions. Sivan’s famed Kapali (raga Mohanam) too deals largely with Siva as Bhikshatana. At a particular point in the Bhikshatana procession, Kapaliswara is met by Karpagambal decked out as Mohini. It is now the turn of the Goddess to dance and she performs most spiritedly and finally enchants him.

 

The tenth day witnesses the wedding of Kapaliswara and Karpagamba and late at night after the ceremony, the deities are brought out on the Ravana Vahana. On this occasion, musical accompaniment is provided by the mukha veena, a variety of clarionet.

 

A unique feature of the ten day festival is the dolls exhibition at the Vyasarpadi Vinayaka Mudaliar Chattram often referred to as Bommai Chattram on South Mada Street. This building which functions as a marriage hall for the rest of the year transforms itself into a dolls-house for the ten days and on display are age-old leather puppets and clay dolls all of which are locked up for the rest of the year.

 

The vidayatri festival begins immediately after the brahmotsavam and continues for ten days. The Lord and His consort are entertained each evening by music and kalakshepam performances. It was during this festival in 1928 that GN Balasubramaniam made his debut as a singer when he was asked to step in by AK Ramachandra Iyer as a last minute replacement for an indisposed Musiri Subramania Iyer. The concerts were earlier broadcast over the public address system and devotees could listen to the performance relaxing on the steps of the temple tank. This is where Madurai Mani Iyer wove his spells over the audience which even had rickshaw-pullers refusing savaris so that they could listen to him singing. In the days when ambient noise was low, the concerts must have created a divine atmosphere.

 

The festival of nine nights or Navaratri is celebrated with gusto at the Kapaliswarar temple and on each evening, the Goddess gives darshan in different alankarams and on different mounts to her devotees at the Navaratri Mandapam. Music is offered to her on this occasion also.

 

Tiruvadirai, the day sacred to Nataraja is also celebrated here. The icons of Nataraja and Sivakami are brought out in procession and here again, Nataraja is carried by bearers who adopt a special gait thereby giving the impression that the deity is dancing.

 

(This article was originally published in Sruti magazine as a companion to the main piece on Music in the Kapaliswarar Temple)

Music in the Mylapore Kapaliswarar Temple

Mylapore is synonymous with Carnatic music. Long considered to be the heartland of culture as far as Madras that is Chennai is concerned, its residents can be pardoned for taking undue pride in their artistic and scholastic achievements. Once it was an area known to house rich and famous lawyers. Today, all this may have faded considerably, with the palatial residences now either empty or having made way for high-rise, but Mylapore still exudes a charm all of its own. To speak or write about Mylapore and the contribution of its residents to Carnatic music requires considerable courage, for after Tanjavur, it must rank second highest in per capita creation of artistes, patrons and composers. It is a vast sangeetha sthalam, housing many important sangeetha sthalams within it. And the greatest sthalam of them all is the Kapaliswarar Temple which by its legend gives the area its name.

 

Perhaps once the area was a grove full of peacocks, but the bird has a strong link to local legend. Goddess Parvati is said to taken the form of a peahen (mayil or mayuram) and worshipped Siva here. Lakshmi at the neighbouring Kesava Perumal temple is referred to as Mayuravalli Thayar. The area has been referred to as Mylapore or Mylai or Mylappu along with other variants since time immemorial. It is one of the oldest settlements that later became a part of Madras, the city that was founded in 1639. Among the various temples that dot this locality, the Kapaliswarar or Tirumayilai temple is the largest. Situated on an east-west axis and fronting a large teppakulam or tank with streets running on all four sides, this shrine is the heart of Mylapore.

 

Though it is agreed that the temple is ancient, there is considerable debate as to whether the temple has always been in its present location. Some believe that it originally stood by the sea-shore and was later shifted inwards following either encroachment by the sea or demolition by the Portugese who later built the San Thome basilica in its place. Certainly, many stone inscriptions relating to the temple have been found near the beach and were later removed to museums in the city. Early works according to scholars state that Kapaliswara faces the sea while today he faces West. This they say indicates that the temple was relocated. Agama sastras according to them prescribe that the deities in a relocated temple should face exactly the opposite direction to the one they faced in the earlier shrine.

 

The present structure is not more than four centuries old. It was probably built with stones from the original temple and in design has many Vijayanagara elements. Credit for the present temple is given to Muthiappa (or Muthiah) Mudaliar, the son of Nainiappa Mudaliar. Theirs was a prominent clan – the Nattu Mudaliars of Mylapore. There are streets commemorating members of the family in the area even now. Nattu Subbaraya Mudali Street was where Musiri Subramania Iyer, Madurai Mani Iyer and Palghat Mani Iyer once lived.

 

The Mayilai temple is not a large one by Dravidian standards. There is only one main tower or Rajagopuram and there is also only one circumambulatory passage. The main shrines are dedicated to Siva-Kapaliswara, the Goddess Karpagambal, Subrahmanya as the six-faced Singaravela along with his consorts Valli and Devasena, and Nartana Ganapati or the dancing Ganesa. There are besides, many sub-shrines to other deities.

 

Mylai appears to have been an important shrine in ancient times for some of the Nayanmars visited it. As per the Periya Puranam of Sekkizhar, Appar, Sambandar and Sundarar (7^th and 8^th centuries AD) came to Mylapore and sang of the deities there. Appar in his Tirutandakam and Tiruvirattanam calls the place Mayilappil. Sundarar in his Tirutondar Togai pays tribute to Vayila Nayanar, one of the 63 Shaivaite saints and who belonged to Mayilai. He sings of being servitor to Vayilaan of ancient Mayilai where the darkness of night is dispelled by pink corals that are brought in by the ocean.

 

Sambandar in his Poompavai Padikam calls it Mayilai. Legend has it that Sambandar sang this set of ten verses to resurrect the dead Poompavai, the daughter of a Mayilai based businessman, Sivanesan Chettiar. Each verse describes at least one festival of the Mayilai temple – the Shravanam festival in the month of Aippasi (Oct/Nov), Tirukarthikai in Nov/Dec, Tiruvadirai in Margazhi (Dec/Jan), Poosam in Thai (Jan/Feb), the ritual bath in the ocean in Masi (Feb/Mar) and the annual temple festival during the month of Panguni (Mar/Apr). It is clear from the verses that these festivals, which are celebrated even today, were well established even then. The Padikam also describes Mayilai to be a prosperous settlement with groves, splendid buildings and occupied by good and pious people. Sambandar also mentions that the area was filled with fragrance of the Punnai tree, which is the sthala vrksham of the temple.

 

In the 11^th century, Nambi Andar Nambi mentions Mayilai in connection with Vayila Nayanar in his Tirutondar Antadi. The 12^th century Periya Puranam also mentions yet another Nayanmar – Ayyadigal Kadavarkon, a king who having ruled for long realised that worship of Siva mattered more and so gave his kingdom to his son and spent his time visiting many shrines including Mayilai.

 

In the 15^th century, Arunagirinathar came to Mayilai and sang in praise of Subrahmanya or Singaravelar here. He does not mention the presence of a Siva temple and there is an opinion that the Kapaliswarar temple still stood by the sea while the Singaravelar temple existed where the shrine complex is today. It is believed by this school of thought that the Kapaliswarar temple was later amalgamated into the Singaravelar temple and the fact that the vimana over Singaravelar is taller than that over Kapaliswarar is taken as proof of this. Arunagirinathar however, in his Tirupugazh on Singaravelar states that the shrine stood on the sea shore. Singaravelar here is six-faced and is seated on a peacock. Interestingly, the two consorts, Valli and Devasena are seated on elephants, an unusual depiction not seen anywhere else.

 

After the temple was reconstructed at its present location, it acquired a large tank on its western side in the 18^th century. The land where this was dug was in the possession of the Nawabs of Arcot and was given to the temple on the condition that Muslims would be allowed to use the tank on Muharram day each year, a tradition that continues till date. The present Prince of Arcot is also an honoured invitee during the float festival or Teppotsavam.

 

During the 17^th and 18^th centuries Mylapore appears to have dimmed in importance with most of the famed composers of Carnatic music avoiding the place and singing in praise of shrines in Tiruvallikeni and areas further north such as Tiruvottriyur. The area was occupied by the Portugese and the Golconda forces. Between 1672 and 1674 the temple, wherever it was, was occupied by French troops. In 1746 the French returned, attacked and looted the temple taking away a million pagodas worth of treasure. Obviously Mylapore was not a place for music lovers then. Even the 19^th century work Sarva Deva Vilasa is silent on Mylai while it waxes eloquent on areas such as Nungambakkam, Choolai and Town as hubs of cultural activity. With Mylapore becoming a part of Madras it quickly re-established its position and by the turn of the 20^th century, it was a flourishing centre for the arts. A kumbhabhishekam or consecration of the Kapaliswarar temple was conduced in 1902 amidst fanfare. The rajagopuram or main tower was in place in 1906. Steps around the temple tank were built in the 20^th century, paid for by public subscription.

 

In the early 20^th century Umayalpuram Swami Bhagavatar, a nephew and disciple of Umayalpuram Krishna and Sundara Bhagavatars, the last disciples of Tyagaraja, conducted bhajan sessions around the temple’s four mada streets every day during the month of Margazhi. Judges of the High Court such as Sir T Muttuswami Iyer and Sir S Subramania Iyer would be in attendance. Prof. P Sambamurthy writes that the bhajan sessions would begin while it was still dark and would conclude just as the sun’s rays fell on the gopuram.

 

The Kapali temple’s three festivals- the annual brahmotsavam, the float festival and the Navaratri utsavam became events during which the arts were encouraged. By the 1920s the brahmotsavam had become important enough for artistes to be invited from all over South India to participate. This included nagaswaram ensembles, singers and instrumentalists, Harikatha exponents and bhajanai ghoshtis. During this time, AK Ramachandra Iyer, a resident of North Mada Street and an entrepreneur and patron of the arts, was in charge of organising the musical entertainments during the brahmotsavam. On the recommendations of his friends, he invited Polagam Ramaiya or Papanasam Sivan during the festivities in 1922. From then on Sivan became a fixture during the temple events – leading bhajan ghoshtis during the month of Margazhi, Mahasivaratri and the brahmotsavam especially on the 8^th and 9^th days.

 

Interestingly, Sivan writes in his incomplete memoirs (published as Enadu Ninaivukkadal) that his leading the bhajans was not met with universal acclaim. A resident of Mylapore, A Krishnaswami Iyer expressed the view that only those properly trained in Tevara Pathashalas could conduct bhajans around the temple. Sivan felt that if this was true savants such as Ramalinga Swamigal and Neelakanta Dasa could not have become great composers. Prominent citizens of Madras such as the leading lawyer TR Venkatarama Sastry, A Rangaswami Iyengar (of The Hindu) and S Satyamurti concurred with Sivan and his sessions continued. Krishnaswami Iyer was to later lament that none of the ghoshtis managed to attract the kind of crowds that Sivan could.

 

By 1930 Sivan had moved permanently to Madras and settled in a shared tenement off Mattala Narayanan Street in Mylapore. He became tutor to S Rajam at the invitation of Rajam’s father, Mylapore Sundaram Iyer. The rest is history. Sivan states that Karpagam and Kapali exercised a great attraction over him and this is proven by the fact that a significant number of his compositions are dedicated to the two deities. A friend of mine once remarked that Sivan was created by the Lord to correct the imbalance of the Trinity not composing any songs on Kapaliswara and this is no exaggeration.

 

It was also in 1929/30 that Ambi Dikshitar, son of Subbarama Dikshitar and therefore the repository of the great Muttuswami Dikshitar tradition, moved to Madras. He lived in Ponnambala Vadyar Street of Mylapore and taught music to TL Venkatarama Iyer, then living on Sannidhi Street, just opposite the four-pillared hall that fronts the Kapaliswarar temple. He also taught music to S Rajam. Later he was to be so impressed with DK Pattammal’s performance at a competition in music for which he was one of the judges, that he also offered to teach her. It was therefore in the shadow of the Kapaliswarar temple that Pattammal learnt Kanjadalayatakshi (raga Manohari) and Balagopala (raga Bhairavi) from him. The tutelage was brief for Ambi Dikshitar returned to Ettayapuram and passed away shortly thereafter but Pattammal continued her training under TL Venkataraman Iyer. Ambi Dikshitar composed two songs, the varnam Kapaliswaram in raga Mohanam and the kriti Kalpakambike in raga Todi in praise of deities in the Mayilai temple.

 

During the years when Sivan was making a name for himself, another composer was active in the Mylapore area. This was Koteeswara Iyer. He had worked in two of Mylapore’s famous institutions- the Venkataramana Ayurveda Dispensary and the Sanskrit College before taking employment with the High Court as a translator. A resident of the Vadagur Selva Vinayakar Koil Street which leads off South Mada Street, he had in 1916 begun work on composing songs in each of the 72 melakartas. All these songs are on Subrahmanya and were published in two volumes titled Kanda Ganamudam in 1932 and 1938 respectively. Apart from these, Koteeswara Iyer composed kritis, varnams and venbas on other deities. One of these songs is Appane Kapali in raga Todi.

 

Harikesanallur Muthiah Bhagavatar was a resident of Mylapore too. He shared accommodation with his cousin TL Venkatarama Iyer at Sannidhi Street in the 1930s when he was Principal of the Teachers College of Music set up by the Music Academy. One of his songs, Muruganukkoru Seedan, a ninda stuti on Siva in raga Kalyani describes the Lord as Kapali.

 

The deities at the temple have inspired latter day composers too. Lakshman Ragade’s Alphabetical Index of Karnatak Songs lists songs such as Kapalishane in Todi by NS Ramachandran, Karpagame enai kann parai in Ranjani by Cuddalore Subramaniam, Karpagame in Bhairavi by KS Krishnamurthi and Karpakavalli in Bhairavi by Lalitadasar. The last composer, whose real name was TG Krishna Iyer, was another resident of Mylapore. He and Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavatar were neighbours at Lalitha Nagar in the San Thome area. He was encouraged to compose by Chembai who sang his creations and made them famous.

 

Over the years the compositions of Papanasam Sivan on the Mayilai temple deities have been frequently rendered on the concert platform. DK Pattammal and DK Jayaraman sang them frequently and they brought a wealth of emotion to their renditions of these songs, having moved closely with Sivan and learnt the songs from him. Madurai Mani Iyer was known his singing of several songs of Sivan on Kapali and Karpagambal. He was a direct disciple too and he made Kaana Kann Kodi a big hit. Present day artistes too render several kritis on the Mayilai temple. The concert debut of GNB took place during the vidayatri festival of 1928 at this temple. He stood in for an indisposed Musiri.

 

Music continues to play an important role in the daily temple rituals. While the abhishekam and alankaram of the principal deities are done Tevaram, Tiruvachakam and Tiruppugazh are rendered by Oduvars in the employment of the temple. Nagaswaram and Tavil ensembles perform during the principal hours of worship. And, plenty of music is offered by the devotees who throng the temple at all times of the day. It is this living tradition of music perhaps that makes this shrine a perfect Sangeetha Sthalam.

 

(This article was originally published in Sruti magazine)

Some old Sabhas of George Town

This article appeared in The Hindu: http://www.thehindu.com/fr/2009/08/28/stories/2009082851190400.htm

Pattinathar Samadhi in Tiruvottriyur

At a time when senior civil servants have met up and discussed the possibility of a heritage act to save Chennai’s historic buildings, a private initiative at restoration appears to have been successful going by results. This is the Pattinathar Samadhi which stands by the sea-shore near Tiruvottiyur. I visited the place a couple of weeks ago was amazed at the cleanliness with which it is being maintained.

 

The Samadhi is the burial spot of the mortal remains of Pattinathar, the 15^th century saint. While a superstructure appears to have existed even in early times, the present structure over the sepulchre cannot be more than a 100 years old. In recent years the building had become a den of vice with anti-social elements having the run of the place. But that appears to be a matter of the past and certainly today the shrine is well tended to and draws a stream of visitors. The access to the Samadhi however is not easy as it is now completely hemmed in by a vast slum colony

 

The superstructure over the Samadhi is a building of low height which has a flat ceiling comprising wooden planks above which is a vaulted roof. It is divided into three sections – a congregational hall in the front, a narrow vestibule in the middle and the sanctum at the rear. Flooring is of black slabs probably of the Cuddappah variety and the walls are of chunam. The building is fronted by a space covered by a sloping roof structure with Mangalore tiles. What is interesting is that the recent renovation has kept all these elements intact.

 

Too often, temple renovation in Madras has meant usage of red granite, marble, or even worse, glazed tiles, all of which are alien to temple architecture. None of these have been used here, probably owing to paucity of funds! After attending to minimum and essential structural repairs, the place has been given a coat of whitewash and the woodwork has been painted over. The wooden planks have been left as they are. Even records of recent donations have been inscribed on black stone slabs so that they blend harmoniously.

 

If only trusts that own similar buildings and structures would pay attention to what they possess and take some care of their maintenance, heritage would be a matter of every day life.

Dubash Walk

Madras Week has ended! Whew! A review of the Dubash Walk. Only there were 34 people and not 15 as is mentioned!

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/4900130.cms

Caldwell- Scholar and Missionary

On 8^th January 1838, the Mary Ann weighed anchor off Madras. On board was a young man filled “with a compound of anxiety, wonder and hope”. He had been preparing for a missionary career in India from four years previously when he joined the Congregational Church of Glasgow. In 1834 he had enlisted and made an offer of service to the London Missionary Society (LMS) which in turn had sponsored his education at the University of Glasgow. His missionary training had taken place simultaneously and he had boarded the Mary Ann on August 30^th 1837. When he did so, he would not have realised that this was the first step of a career that would last for half a century in one of the hottest parts of India – Tirunelveli. The young man, then 24 years of age, was Robert Caldwell.

 

In Madras Caldwell worked on the evangelisation of the lowest castes, the untouchables. He also spent his time learning Tamil. Later he was transferred to the English speaking churches in the city as there was a shortage of priests there. This, he felt was drawing him away from what he felt was his true calling and in 1841 he submitted his resignation to the LMS and decided to join the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel (SPG), one of the Church of England missions. In July that year he was admitted to the order of deacon at the St Stephen’s Church, Ootacamund and set off on foot a couple of months later to Idayangudi in Tirunelveli, which would be his headquarters for the remaining part of his life. He was fascinated by the name of the place, for it meant the dwelling of a shepherd and felt “that it was a very appropriate name for the residence of a Missionary Pastor and very suggestive of the duties which I had come there to discharge”. The state of the congregation, largely comprising Shanars was wretched in the extreme. Though Christianity was not new to Tirunelveli, having come to the place in 1771 or thereabouts, real success by way of conversions had been experienced only from the 1790s. This had resulted in clashes between the converts and Hindu revivalists leading to a tense atmosphere.

 

Arriving in such a scenario, Caldwell saw that his first task was to spread education among the masses and also create some sense of order in the village, which apart from the church buildings, was a complete mess. He concentrated on education for the children of the lower castes and the sarcastic remarks of School Inspectors on the futility of teaching to such children notwithstanding achieved success. He revived the boys’ schools and opened a school for girls as well. Caldwell also ensured retention of student interest by luring them on occasion with money and pori kadalai mixed with jaggery. Three days a week he travelled to the neighbouring villages and set up a church building in each of them. Once there were three converts in a village, he set them up as a separate congregation. He came into close contacts with the villages and by 1844, the original 300 members of his parish had expanded to 2000. A severe challenge to the stability of his congregation came about that year when there was an outbreak of cholera. In the past such epidemics resulted in mass reversals to the original faith. This time, Caldwell, by keeping up his regular visits, ensured that his flock remained intact. It was also in 1841 that he married Eliza, the daughter the Rev. Charles Mault of the LMS, Travancore and in her he found the ideal wife. Immediately after the marriage, she began a boarding school for girls, an unthinkable concept for the times. She introduced lace making as a vocation for women which ensured that they had a steady income.

 

Though from 1844 Caldwell did not achieve the kind of success in conversions as he had seen earlier, he focused his attentions on consolidating the faithful. Believing that any congregation ought to be self sufficient, he encouraged them to form the Church Building Society to which each member was to contribute the equivalent of one day’s labour. The Tinnevelly Tract Society was established to ensure availability of bibles in the entire district. A Poor Fund was set up to help the poor among Christians. By 1851, the efforts of Caldwell had borne fruit. There was a surge in conversions with once as many as 64 baptisms in a single day. The SPG in its summary of missions in South India in 1851 singled out Idayangudi for the progress it had made.

 

Caldwell was keen that locals take on the task of building churches in their villages. He hoped that “the Churches of India may at length rival, as the heathen temples do already, the Churches of Europe”. The crowning glory of his work was the construction of the Holy Trinity Church of Idayangudi for which he was the fund-raiser, architect and manager. Begun in 1847, it was completed in 1880 when over 8000 people attended the dedication ceremony. By then it had attained the status of a mother church for over 40 churches. Basing his ideas on the panchayat system in Indian villages, Caldwell established Christian Municipalities which followed Christian laws, governed by a Nyaya Sabha on the lines of the panchayats. He also developed a chain of native agents comprising missionaries, pastors, lay-helpers, catechists and schoolmasters who helped European missionaries in their work. These were trained to carry out routine activities and they were also asked to mingle with the locals in a way that European missionaries could not and thereby encourage greater adherence to Christianity.

 

Caldwell’s greatest successes in conversion were in the Shanar community. As he turned his attention to other castes, he was faced with two problems. The first concerned the tendency among the converts to carry their caste prejudices with them into Christianity, in which of course there was no place for such ideas. He took several steps such as organising common feasts and counselling and as a final extreme, suspension from communion and dismissal from mission employment. All these had limited impact for caste ideas had taken firm root by then among the Christians. His moves however had the positive impact of the Shanars banding together in their villages which became symbols of resistance against oppression from higher castes. Ironically, Caldwell’s monograph The Tinnevelly Shanars, which portrayed the community as a backward one, resulted in vehement protests from Shanars themselves. This resulted in a schism of sorts with the emergence of Sattampillai who broke away and formed the Hindu Christian Church of Lord Jesus in 1857. Sattampillai fashioned his own version of the history of the Shanars and protests over Caldwell’s monograph were to become a regular feature for very many years. It also heralded the tradition of various communities and castes creating their own romantic versions of their histories, a trend that still continues.

 

In 1877, Caldwell was made Coadjutor Bishop of Madras with his jurisdiction being the SPG churches in Tirunelveli. His attempts to convert Hindus of the higher castes became stronger after this, though it must be said that he had been systematically working on this from earlier times. To him as to other missionaries on similar work, higher caste converts were prize catches. It is ironic that Caldwell, who held the Brahmins responsible for most evils of caste should aspire to convert them the most and when he eventually succeeded in 1870 in converting a Hindu couple he wrote that he felt “such a thrill pass through (his) old heart that he had to put some force on (his) feelings to go through with the service”. His efforts in conversion of higher castes met with very limited success and though he considered that the “conversion of India to Christ is one of the greatest works to which the Church and the nation of England are called” he did not succeed in realising his dream to the fullest.

 

Caldwell today is however remembered more for his writings than for his missionary activities and his achievements here are really astounding. He viewed India with its multiple languages as the best place to study comparative philology. In this he was carrying forward a tradition of several European missionaries and several English officers who had made a serious study of Indian languages. Tamil had received great attention from them, and even in the immediate vicinity of where Caldwell functioned, there were at least three scholars- the well-known GU Pope of Sawyerpuram, John Thomas of Meganapuram and Edward Sargent of Suviseshapuram. Caldwell enjoyed a relationship of mutual respect and admiration with all three and this undoubtedly helped in his work. At least three decades earlier, the establishment of the College of Fort St. George (1812) had spurred an interest among civil servants on matters oriental and this saw the establishment of what was called the Madras School of Orientalism with FW Ellis (1777-1819) and AD Campbell (1798-1857) and later CP Brown (1794-1884) being important figures associated with it. The College funded research into Indian languages and it was Campbell’s works, a Telugu grammar published in 1816 and a Telugu English dictionary in 1821 that first posited the thesis that Telugu, Tamil and other South Indian languages were not of Sanskrit origin but belonged to a unique Dravidian family. In his preface to the Telugu grammar, Ellis offered substantial evidence on this. Caldwell, who had interacted with CP Brown during his voyage out to India in 1837, was to follow this school of thought.

 

He began his work on South Indian languages in 1853 when he went to England on a furlough, which lasted for four years giving him an opportunity to recoup his health and also share his experiences with congregations in England. In 1856, while still in England, Caldwell completed the Comparative Grammar of Dravidian Languages, a ground breaking philological work on the history and structure of Dravidian languages. In the words of Thomas Trautmann, “the real significance of what Caldwell accomplished was not the first conception of the Dravidian family but the consolidation of the proof”. It was for the first time that the term Dravidian was used, albeit for philological reasons, to describe the region of South India and its languages. Later this was to become a political identity that still holds sway. Caldwell argued that Tamil in particular, “was the most cultivated of the all Dravidian idioms. (It) can dispense with Sanskrit if need be and not only stand alone but flourish without its aid.” In addition, the work dealt with a number of ethnological issues. It criticised Brahmin domination over religion and social customs and questioned the “undeserving prominence” gained by Brahmins in the socio-cultural order of Tamil speaking regions. The Brahmin according to Caldwell may have imparted a “few higher forms of civilisation” but these had been “more than counterbalanced by the fossilising caste rules, the practical pantheistic philosophy and the cumbersome routine of inane ceremonies”. He blamed Brahmins for introducing idol worship and also for their negative contribution to Tamil. He dismissed them by saying that few Brahmins “have written anything (in Tamil) worthy of preservation. The highest rank of Tamil literature which has been reached by a Brahmin is that of a commentator.” It is ironic that even as this work was being written, U Ve Swaminatha Iyer was born in Utthamadanapuram.

 

Caldwell’s work was received with great acclaim. The University of Madras which was set up the next year approved the work as a text book for higher examinations. Caldwell’s alma mater, the University of Glasgow bestowed its LLD on him for the work. He also became a Fellow of the University of Madras and delivered its convocation address in 1879. His reputation as a philologist soared all over Europe.

 

While in England, Caldwell wrote a series of articles for the Colonial Church Chronicle and Missionary Journal. This was to inform the English of the work done by the Missions in Tirunelveli and dispel the commonly held notion that missionary work in India was not of much benefit to anyone. These articles were compiled and published as Lectures on the Tinnevelly Missions in 1857. In these he propounded the theory that Hinduism was the culmination of an evolution from a series of cults, beliefs and rituals under the aegis of Brahmins and for the benefit of Brahmins. He argued that Hinduism was never a monolithic religion as it was made out to be.

 

In 1881, Caldwell published his Political and General History of the District of Tinnevelly in The Madras Presidency, from the Earliest Period to its Cession to the English Governmeny in AD 1801. He spent years researching this book and his efforts were rewarded when the publishing of the work was undertaken by the Madras Government which also, unasked for, gave him an honorarium of Rs 1000. The work, governed by Utilitarian and Evangelical thinking, held the British Government to be the best thing that happened to areas such as Tirunelveli. He disagreed with the early Orientalist view that idealised India’s past. The work is significant in that it documented the history of a region that had not received much attention earlier. In the same year Caldwell also published his History of the Tinnevelly Mission. Throughout his life, he was to continue writing. His monograph on the Shanars is already dealt with. He also worked on translating the bible into Tamil and in creating a Prayer Book in Tamil. In collaboration with Sargent he revised the Tamil Hymn Book and rearranged it for use in the Anglican service. A number of booklets and pamphlets to encourage Christianity were brought out by him.

 

In 1882, Caldwell shifted the seat of his episcopate from Idayangudi to Tuticorin as the latter town had all the “establishments and institutions as should make it a strong, influential centre”. He then focused more on education, upgrading the Anglo Vernacular School, setting up a school suitable for Hindus and along with Eliza setting up infrastructure to encourage education among women. The College department of the Tirunelveli SPG was shifted from Sawyerpuram to Tuticorin and this was the seed of a new college for higher education in the latter town. In 1883 this was named the Caldwell College.

 

Caldwell’s last years were however his toughest with frequent arguments and disagreements with the Madras Diocesan Committee of the SPG. His friend Sargent passed away leaving him alone. There was friction in his own entourage, and one among these, the Rev Margoschis was to prove a major irritant. A much younger missionary, the latter came from England full of the new Oxford Movement ideas and with much greater energy. The MDC generally sided with Margoschis and several of Caldwell’s recommendations especially his desire for independence of the Tirunelveli Church were successfully negated. The Rev Sharrock, a Caldwell protégé, came in for targeted attacks and was finally dismissed from the MDC on grounds of ill-treating his subordinates. There were moves to cripple the Caldwell College by taking away its grants and scholarships, all of which Caldwell managed to stave off. But the MDC finally succeeded, with Margoschis in the years after Caldwell’s death, in closing the college in 1893. The efforts of Eliza in setting up further educational institutions were not encouraged and in 1890 Caldwell offered to step down citing his old age and requesting that he be paid a pension for his remaining years. The condition of a pension roused the SPG’s ire and this was the subject of much debate with the SPG London finally sanctioning it a year later. Caldwell retired to Kodaikanal in 1891 and passed away there the same year on 28^th August. His body was  brought back to Idayangudi and laid to rest in the church he built. Eliza joined him in eternal rest in 1899.

 

The life of Caldwell has been researched extensively and written as a book “Robert Caldwell: A Scholar-Missionary in Colonial South India” by Y Vincent Kumaradoss. It makes for fascinating reading and is a detailed account of a man who came to South India on missionary work and stayed on to make an impact on its political consciousness and in the spread of education. Caldwell is remembered today with a statue on the Marina Beach.

From Shorthand to Surukkezhuttu

From shorthand to surukkezhuttu

 

The shorthand technique in English developed in the 16^th century and was refined continuously subsequently, reaching a stage of advanced development with Sir Isaac Pitman launching his eponymous method in 1837. But how, when and why did shorthand come to be developed for the vernacular languages of India, and in particular Tamil? This was the subject of an interesting talk delivered recently by Bernard Bate, Associate Professor for Anthropology, University of Chicago, at the Roja Muthiah Research Library.

 

Dr Bate traced its development to the rise of Tamil as a political language of expression, which happens to be his present subject of study, the emergence of Tamil oratory – from the Protestant sermon to political speeches – and its relationship to the production of a Tamil public sphere.

 

The use of Tamil for political oratory began in the late 1800s perhaps with men such as G Subramania Iyer who embarked on a speaking tour of Madras Presidency in 1883 to promote the cause of the Congress. But it was the Swadeshi Movement, which took birth following the partition of Bengal in 1905 that made Tamil and other vernacular languages the chosen media for oration. In Madras city itself public meetings were conducted at the Marina Beach, the Moore Market and the maidan opposite the Pacchaiyappa’s College (then located at the Esplanade). While the beach meetings were headed largely by Subramania Bharati, the Moore Market meetings were in Telugu and featured E Surendranath Arya. In Tuticorin and Tirunelveli, speeches were given by VO Chidambaram Pillai and Subramania Siva. This was therefore a period of oratorical incandescence.

 

Swadeshi struck at the very foundation of commerce on which the Empire had been built. The Government was curious to know as to what was being said. Officials, largely English, did not understand what was being said. Taking it down in longhand was impossible and many of the words were lost. This was oratory that was free from the pre-written sheet of paper and spontaneous. If the speeches had to be taken down as they were spoken so that they could be analysed later for seditious content and the speaker subsequently arrested on that basis, a technique had to be evolved that would enable police inspectors to attend meetings in mufti and take down the speeches verbatim. In the words of Dr Bate, shorthand in vernacular (known as surukkezhuttu) was developed as a new political communicative technique to counter another new political communicative technique, namely the use of Tamil and other vernacular languages for oratory.

 

By 1907, while the Swadeshi Movement was being actively suppressed, the Government of Madras was considering the use of shorthand for reporting on political speeches. A technique of shorthand in vernacular had to be developed. Dewan Bahadur LD Swamikannu Pillai, considered an expert on languages, submitted a “memorandum on application of shorthand to South Indian vernacular”. At this time independent of the Government initiative, V Krishnamachari, a local scholar, developed a system based on the principles of phonography, namely the recording of words on paper as they sound and not as they are spelt, which formed the basis of the Pitman system as well. Krishnamachari decided not to publish his work and in 1907 submitted it to the Government for due consideration for being taken on as the official system of shorthand. There appears to have been some kind of rivalry between Krishnamachari and Swamikannu Pillai with the latter weighing in favour of another shorthand researcher M Srinivasa Rao, who was an employee of the Police Academy and had worked on an independent system. So while Krishnamachari received high praise for his work, it was Rao who was asked to conduct classes in shorthand for the police sub-inspectors of Madras. In 1908 examinations were conducted in shorthand and eleven candidates appeared. Nine passed and the two that failed had been trained by Krishnamachari. With that any possibility of using his techniques faded.

 

In 1910 the second examination was conducted and ten students appeared. Five were proficient in English shorthand and the results in Tamil showed that they could take down 80 to 90 words a minute which was considered excellent. Encouraged by this Srinivasa Rao went on to produce a Telugu manual for shorthand in 1912 and in 1914 the first examination for shorthand in Telugu was conducted. In 1915 shorthand became a part of the syllabus for the SSLC examination.

 

The benefit of the training received in the system became evident in 1919 when the Home Rule League and the Labour Movement reached their zenith. Usage of local languages for speeches had become very common by then and these were taken down rapidly by the trained police personnel. On the basis of his research Dr Bate concludes that the first person to be arrested based on the shorthand notes taken of his speech was EV Ramaswami Naicker, later to be known as Periyar. This was after his speech on 4^th February that year at Uttamapalayam near Coimbatore. A record sixty pages of notes in shorthand had been taken during the speech and this was produced as evidence. Shorthand had come of age.

 

From being a tool of surveillance it later became an integral aspect of commercial and government day-to-day activity. The Stenographers Guild was founded in Madras in 1937 by C Rajagopalachari. It flourishes even today.

Setting up Neyveli Lignite Corpn

The presence of “black clay” in the area surrounding Pondicherry was

known to workmen engaged in drilling wells as early as 1828. It was however only in 1935 that this was taken up for analysis. In 1941 Binny & Co made an attempt to check for lignite deposits in nearby Neyveli but soon gave it up for want of suitable equipment. In 1947, the Government of India sent its Geologist and Mining Engineer, HK Ghosh to sink bore holes and test the availability of lignite. Within four years Ghosh estimated that 2000 million tonnes of lignite was present in the area though the task of excavating it would be daunting owing to the presence of sub-soil water. In 1951, Paul Erryich, a mining engineer was deputed by the Bureau of Mines, Government of the United States to the Government of Madras under a technical assistance programme to study the possibility of mining the lignite. Based on the findings of Ghosh and Erryich, a high-powered committee of the Government of India recommended the setting up of a pilot quarry which was inaugurated in 1953 by Dr U Krishna Rau, Minister for Industries, Labour and Co-operation, Government of Madras. The Secretary to this department was TMS Mani ICS, the man who would make the lignite project a reality. He was designated Chief Executive, Lignite Investigations and the next year Pt. Nehru visited the quarry and in 1955 the Neyveli project was taken over by the centre.  

Neyveli Lignite Corporation was set up as a private limited company on 14th November 1956, by the Government of India with the mandate to undertake mining and  processing of lignite, generation and distribution of power,  manufacture of fertiliser, chemicals, etc. And selected to head the new venture was TMS Mani. Born in 1908 he had been named TM Subramaniam which he shortened to TMS Mani on qualifying for the Indian Civil Service (ICS). During his years in the Government he had served in various capacities in the Madras Presidency before being posted to the Finance Department in Delhi during the Second World War. Returning from there in 1946 he took over as Commissioner of Textiles in Madras before going on to become Secretary, Health and Secretary PWD. He was known to be an upright officer who brought in his characteristic intelligence and capacity for hard work into any and every assignment that he was given. Even when he was Chief Executive of the Lignite Investigations, he had worked hard in bringing together the various ministers and bureaucrats both in Centre and State levels and had put together a very accurate estimate of the financial outlay of the project.
 
But most of his friends felt that transforming NLC into reality was
something that was much more than he could handle. As his son was to
write later, “there were many who doubted whether the numerous
problems would ever be solved. Many advised him to get out early,
as the problems of nature, the artesian water under the lignite
seam, the political divisions between the Central and State
Governments, and petty jealousies, would doom it to failure”.
 
There was a shortage of foreign exchange which delayed the project.
In addition there was a widely held body of opinion that no lignite
existed in the area and that when the excavation would be completed
and the subterranean water removed, sea water from Cuddalore would
flood the mines and submerge the entire neighbourhood. And the task
was not just a question of mining. At a total outlay of
Rs 113 Crores (in 1956) it included creation of an open casting
mining division, constructing a township, setting up the power plant,
the urea plant for fertiliser and the domestic fuel lignite
briquetting plant. Work began in May 1957 after a formal
inauguration by Pt. Nehru.
 
TMS Mani in his capacity as Chairman rose to the occasion and as was
his habit in all his earlier assignments studied, learnt and
understood the various aspects of setting up the Corporation.
He acquired knowledge of “hydrology, open-cast mining, modern mining
machinery, town planning, personnel management and financial
management by interacting with experts in the respective fields”.
 
The Neyveli Township grew up, a planned layout, under his personal
supervision. His mother-in-law was to write admiringly, “they
transformed open, barren land into gardens, tanks and buildings,
as if it was child’s play.” Housing received special attention.
All housing units were to have a plot of garden space and enough
ventilation. Wanting to be a hands-on chief, TMS Mani, who had
earlier operated from Madras and managed at the Inspection Bungalow
in Neyveli during visits soon moved home to Neyveli. This meant l
eaving his enormous government bungalow, Cherwell on Greenways Road,
Madras and settling into the comparatively modest accommodation of
the Chairman’s residence or Emdis House as it was called in Neyveli,
in 1958. Having faith in the cooperative movement, TMS Mani ensured
that the township had cooperative stores, markets, milk dairies,
petrol pumps, hotels and even cinemas. The last he felt was an
absolute must for otherwise employees would keep going to
Chidambaram to watch films in the night and turn up to work
bleary-eyed the next day! His eye for detail even saw to the
creation of hair-dressing saloons. Besides these, schools,
hospitals, nursing homes and a telephone exchange came up.
At all these locations, discipline was paramount and even his wife
had to stand in queue to purchase what she wanted. Use of company
vehicles for personal use was frowned upon and he set the example
by driving to work in his personal car and then using the official
vehicle for all office related work before driving home again in
his own car.
 
There were enormous headaches in the project. Moving the mining
equipment proved a big challenge. The Adyar Bridge was found to be
too weak to bear the load of the equipment as they were transported
from the Port to Neyveli. The machinery was dismantled before the
bridge, carried across and then reassembled at the other end before
being loaded on to trucks for transport to Neyveli.
 
The special mining machinery proved to be incapable of handling the
local Cuddalore sandstone. The teeth kept breaking and had to be
replaced thereby reducing the quantum of mining. This problem was
later solved with suitable modifications to the teeth and by
introducing a systematic drilling and shatter blasting programme. The
huge reservoir of ground water below the lignite bed was another
problem as it would threaten to burst forth and flood the mines if
the pressure was not reduced prior to commencement of mining. This
was done by selectively forming bore wells and pumping out water to
reduce the pressure. The area was prone to flooding during monsoons
and this required constructing of pumping stations and suitable
storm water drains. All this required that equipment be in top
working order and TMS Mani devised a system of maintenance that
was followed religiously.
 
On a happy day in August 1961, the lignite seam in what is today
called Mine 1 was exposed. And what’s more, water did not rush in
from Cuddalore as the Cassandras had predicted. TMS Mani was in
raptures. His mother-in-law was to comment that he rejoiced as
though he had dug it out himself. “You do not understand,” was
the reply. “It was no surprise and no credit to me that lignite
lay underground. But in its absence, in other words, had we not
found any of it, the shame of just indulging in all this work of
excavating would have been my lot.” By May 1962 full-fledged mining
had begun with for the first time in India, the use of German
excavation technology and equipment. The same month, the first
Power Station at Neyveli, set up with Soviet collaboration was
commissioned. It was South Asia’s first and only plant to be
fuelled with lignite and was the first power plant in India to
be set up with Soviet technology. By 1962, the entire project
had seen Indians working with Germans, Russians, Englishmen and
Americans. A unique collaborative effort during the Cold War years.

 
TMS Mani, the superman who saw all this through, had one fatal
weakness. He suffered enormously from asthma. Even a whiff of
fragrance or a cold breeze was enough to bring it on. Being a
smoker did not help. But undeterred by it, despite several
sleepless nights of breathlessness which would leave him exhausted
even if he climbed a single stair, he laboured on and brought his
project to fruition. Assisting him in every way was his patient
wife, Rukmini. Not once did he come late for a meeting owing to
his malaise. The daily schedule never varied. It began with a tour
of every facility on the complex at 8.00 am followed by hours and
hours of office work, often ending at midnight.
 
TMS Mani celebrated the weddings of his daughter and son with the
greatest simplicity. The first had happened when he was Secretary
PWD and the second when he was Chairman NLC. He was of the view
that a civil servant should set an example in matters such as this.
Gifts were strictly discouraged and the list of invitees was pared
to a minimum. He did not even build a house of his own. When he
was Secretary PWD, he was of the view that this would cause comment
and after taking over at NLC, there was never any time.
 
By 1962 his family members felt that it was time for a break from
the NLC routine where matters had stabilised and work was going
smoothly. He decided to spend some time in Bombay with his daughter.
The humid weather of Bombay aggravated his asthma and on 13^th
November he had to be rushed to Madras for treatment. On boarding
the aircraft in a strong fragrance (about which theories vary from
a broken perfume bottle to the use of a disinfectant) brought about
a severe attack of breathlessness and he passed away before any
medical help could be brought in. He was only 54. In another year
he would have retired and then written the book he had planned on
his experiences at Neyveli.
 
The body was brought back to a stunned Neyveli for the last rites.
His legacy to his family included nothing beyond a fully paid up
insurance fund and a 15 year old Chevrolet. An ICS officer’s
income he opined was to be utilised in maintaining a certain
standard of living and he had lived up to that maxim. He had
given his children an excellent education and that was his
lasting legacy to them. It was left to Rukmini and her three
children, the last of whom was a physically challenged son,
to pick up the pieces. Later his elder son MK Mani, would
become and continues to be one of India’s leading nephrologists.
Rukmini would also make a mark- as Honorary Secretary of the Madras
branch of the Family Planning Association of India, she was to do
yeoman service till her passing in 1980.
 
On the lighter side, TMS Mani achieved what many felt was an
impossibility and that was the making of peace between his two
friends TT Krishnamachari and T Sadasivam (of MS Subbulakshmi fame).
The two had fallen out on the issue of Tamil Isai and it was at
his daughter Lakshmi’s wedding when MS sang, that the great thaw
happened between TTK and TS!
 
His legacy of Neyveli is of course monumental. Today, the plant,
much expanded continues to be one of India’s major thermal power
sources and perhaps every time a light bulb is switched on in Tamil
Nadu, someone is paying a tribute to TMS Mani. A road in the Neyveli
complex is named after him. In many ways his achievement and manner
of death would be similar to that of RS Krishnan, the first
Executive Director of BHEL and father of the Trichy unit and
township. He too was an asthmatic and smoked a pipe and he too
would die in harness after making his project a reality.
 
On the occasion of TMS Mani’s birth centenary in 2008, two books
were published and released by his family members. The first,
TMS Mani, Civil Servant Nonpareil, is a compilation of tributes
written by friends, relatives and admirers. The second, Waves of
Nostalgia from a Mother’s Memory is the English translation of the
Tamil biography of his wife Rukmini written by her mother
K Saraswathi Ammal who was unfortunate to witness the passing of
her only child during her lifetime. Saraswathi Ammal, one of the
daughters of the well-known lawyer of Madras, V Krishnaswami Iyer,
wields a descriptive pen and in her hands, life in Madras of the
1930s and 40s springs to life. It has been translated into English
by KV Seshadri, IAS (retd.), TMS Mani’s son-in-law.
 
The two volumes make for a great tribute to an upright and
dedicated civil servant and his supportive wife.

On Swami Silver and P Orr

On Swami Silver from P Orr

 

Did you know that Swami Silver was the name given during the British Raj to silverware from Madras and Bangalore that featured Hindu Gods and Goddesses? And that our own P Orr & Sons was a pioneer in this area? These, and other interesting facts emerged at a talk titled “Whose Taste? Madras and Indian Silver for the Raj” by Vidya Dahejia an America based expert in Indian art, hosted by the Prakriti Foundation on 8^th February. In a little less than an hour, the speaker took the small audience through the history of Swami Silver, illustrated through a power point presentation with some excellent photographs of silverware.

 

Madras calling card cases were famous even in the early 19^th century and these featured a god or two on the top thereby getting the name “Swami cases”. But the Georgian style featuring straight sides and less ornamentation popularised by Hamilton & Co of Calcutta was preferred over Swami patterns. However, the Great Empire Exhibition of 1851 at the Crystal Palace in London, the brainchild of Prince Albert, opened the eyes of the public to the beauty of Indian silver and soon Indian patterns were in demand for curry pots and marrow spoons. In Madras, Gordon & Co and later Peter Orr cashed in on this demand. The latter firm, later to become famous as P Orr & Sons, experimented with silver claret jugs that were plain all around except for a single band of swami work around the neck. The results must have been encouraging, for P Orr soon branched into silverware that featured elaborate swami work. There was the famous Madras Swami Tea Service. There were trays depicting the ten incarnations of Vishnu, sugar pots that had the child Krishna crawling out by way of handles, spoons that featured Nayak style animals on the handles and even whistles for syces, a sample of which was passed around for the audience to see.

 

The Prince of Wales’ visit to India in 1876 was yet another reason for swami silver to become popular. Maharajahs vied with one another to present the Prince with gifts and placed large orders on P Orr. The Gaekwar of Baroda and the Maharajah of Indore both gave P Orr tea services that featured swami work to the Prince. The Maharajah of Cochin gave a dessert service. Soon a line of swami jewellery also began doing the rounds.

 

It was not long before competition began catching up with P Orr. The first was Krishnaiah Chetty & Sons of Bangalore. That firm did swami work too. The most successful among the competitors was Omarsi Maoji of Kutch who too began swami work and first experimented with a claret jug. The firm slowly gave a new meaning to swami work by featuring less Gods and more animals and birds. Drawings used by the silversmiths of Omarsi Maoji have survived and these bear appreciative remarks by some buyers as well. Kutch work was highly prized and soon London shops began placing orders for silverware to cater to Yuletide demand. Soon other centres such as Kashmir (known for paisley designs), Alwar (for very delicate work), Calcutta (largely depicting rural scenes) and Bombay (urban scenes) began developing. Burma had its own silver styles too. These depicted scenes from the Jataka tales.

 

Ravi Varma was the source of inspiration from 1884 onwards when his oleographic press began churning out prints of his art works. P Orr produced silver articles such as tea caddies, milk jugs and tea pots with the Ravi Varma painting of Saraswathi depicted on them. Swami silver had come full circle. From brass and stone icons for inspiration, it had moved to paintings and prints which people of Madras preserve and worship even now. Interestingly, the speaker said, there is no trace of the Madras Swami Tea Service presented to the Prince of Wales. Her researches led her to the conclusion that the tea service may have made its way to one of the provincial museums of England and is perhaps awaiting rediscovery.