DEGREE COFFEE BY THE YARD
Nirmala Lakshman
Aleph Book Company
158 pages; Rs 295
She was dismissed by Rudyard Kipling as a "withered beldame ... brooding on ancient fame''. It was a cruel verdict, considering that the gracious city of boulevards, garden houses and genteel folk, Chennai (formerly known as Madras), served the British well. Mrs Kindersley, an unknown English traveller in the 18th century, had left behind a record in which she described Madras as "without exception, the prettiest place I ever saw". We, to be sure, like this lady better.
Given such fondness and affinity, it's been a bur on the flesh that Chennai as a city has been unsung on the literary map in Indian writing in English, whether it is fiction or non-fiction. Perhaps Chennai's own denizens did not come forward, in their inimitable shy fashion, to sing the praises of their beloved metropolis. Nirmala Lakshman's Degree Coffee by the Yard seeks to rectify this reticence about giving Chennai its rightful place as one of India's great historic and cultural cities. The first in a series on Indian cities published by Aleph, the book seeks to tell Chennai's tale since its birth as Madras.
Ms Lakshman's book is a faithful gazette of the city's history. It begins when Chennai was a cluster of fishing villages, and pockets of it were famed for peacocks and lily ponds. There were churches of every faith and the city boasted a diligent local population of keen seafarers, merchants and maritime traders. Chennai also produced hard-to-imitate hand-woven cloth called "the Madras". The Greeks had been here as early as 140 AD and Arab merchants chalked out the Coromandel shoreline route in the 11th century. The British arrived last on the scene, by the 17th century, and stayed the longest.
The British turned this baking hot place into one of boulevards and garden houses. They also introduced the famous Indo-Saracenic architecture to the country. That's a bit hard to believe; today, Chennai has an ugly skyline, thanks to giant hoardings promoting cars, phones, jewellery, saris, underwear, cut-outs of larger-than-life politicians, and gaudy film hoardings.
To take in the beauty of Chennai's landscape, you need a keen eye to spot the many concealed elegant garden houses, the city's local architecture, the churches tucked away in many corners of the city, arresting temples and the splendid Marina beach, flanked by some fine architecture and vestiges of buildings whose character deserves a recall of their histories. For this reason, in kinder moments, Chennai was fondly called the Queen of the Coromandel, for being the British Empire's gateway to India. After the division of states on a linguistic basis, it became the capital city of Tamil Nadu and India's fourth-largest metropolis. To soften the historical recollection, Ms Lakshman peppers the narrative with personal anecdotes, which allow for authorial warmth towards her subject.
Not only does she trace Chennai's history, she also makes cultural connections, such as the elegant dots and swirls, or kolams, that Chennai's women draw outside their doorsteps. Of course, you can't resist a chuckle if as a south Chennai Saivite you find Triplicane gets special mention from someone who is associated with the MahaVishnu of Mount Road. But then, life in Triplicane revolves around two venerable institutions: the Parthasarathy temple and the Chepauk cricket ground. It was from Triplicane that the famous line of Iyengar cricketers emerged. Notable among these are M J Gopalan, C R Rangachari, W V Raman and S Venkataraghavan. Ms Lakshman captures the Chennaivasi's weakness for cricket.
Often called an overgrown village, Chennai remains a metropolis with modern amenities, impressive malls and swish restaurants; but it sits on a bedrock of orthodoxy, tradition and culture. It prides itself on its cultured and educated people, but there's room for plenty of nativity in Chennai. Here, slums reverberate with their own backstreet music, or gaana, and the "Madras Tamil" lingo is a hybrid of English and twisted Tamil words, and bits of Hindi too. If its classical music and dance remain elitist, its kitschy film world and political firmament have thrown up some of the most unique and unorthodox personalities. Ms Lakshman, through her well-researched and detailed descriptions, evokes these variegated aspects of Chennai's history and culture. Chennai sometimes seems an anachronism of a metropolis.
While Kolkata rests on its cultural pride, Delhi on its historical importance and Mumbai on its cosmopolitanism, Chennai, like a well-endowed and worldly queen, remains steadfast, following a pace of its own, allowing a quality of life according to individual taste. Ms Lakshman's book is a testimony to Chennai's past, its contemporary quirks, and political and cultural attributes.
For Chennai loyalists, this is a tome to cherish over a tiffin of sweet, kaaram and kaapi.
The reviewer is commissioning editor, Lonely Planet
Nirmala Lakshman
Aleph Book Company
158 pages; Rs 295
She was dismissed by Rudyard Kipling as a "withered beldame ... brooding on ancient fame''. It was a cruel verdict, considering that the gracious city of boulevards, garden houses and genteel folk, Chennai (formerly known as Madras), served the British well. Mrs Kindersley, an unknown English traveller in the 18th century, had left behind a record in which she described Madras as "without exception, the prettiest place I ever saw". We, to be sure, like this lady better.
Given such fondness and affinity, it's been a bur on the flesh that Chennai as a city has been unsung on the literary map in Indian writing in English, whether it is fiction or non-fiction. Perhaps Chennai's own denizens did not come forward, in their inimitable shy fashion, to sing the praises of their beloved metropolis. Nirmala Lakshman's Degree Coffee by the Yard seeks to rectify this reticence about giving Chennai its rightful place as one of India's great historic and cultural cities. The first in a series on Indian cities published by Aleph, the book seeks to tell Chennai's tale since its birth as Madras.
Ms Lakshman's book is a faithful gazette of the city's history. It begins when Chennai was a cluster of fishing villages, and pockets of it were famed for peacocks and lily ponds. There were churches of every faith and the city boasted a diligent local population of keen seafarers, merchants and maritime traders. Chennai also produced hard-to-imitate hand-woven cloth called "the Madras". The Greeks had been here as early as 140 AD and Arab merchants chalked out the Coromandel shoreline route in the 11th century. The British arrived last on the scene, by the 17th century, and stayed the longest.
The British turned this baking hot place into one of boulevards and garden houses. They also introduced the famous Indo-Saracenic architecture to the country. That's a bit hard to believe; today, Chennai has an ugly skyline, thanks to giant hoardings promoting cars, phones, jewellery, saris, underwear, cut-outs of larger-than-life politicians, and gaudy film hoardings.
To take in the beauty of Chennai's landscape, you need a keen eye to spot the many concealed elegant garden houses, the city's local architecture, the churches tucked away in many corners of the city, arresting temples and the splendid Marina beach, flanked by some fine architecture and vestiges of buildings whose character deserves a recall of their histories. For this reason, in kinder moments, Chennai was fondly called the Queen of the Coromandel, for being the British Empire's gateway to India. After the division of states on a linguistic basis, it became the capital city of Tamil Nadu and India's fourth-largest metropolis. To soften the historical recollection, Ms Lakshman peppers the narrative with personal anecdotes, which allow for authorial warmth towards her subject.
Not only does she trace Chennai's history, she also makes cultural connections, such as the elegant dots and swirls, or kolams, that Chennai's women draw outside their doorsteps. Of course, you can't resist a chuckle if as a south Chennai Saivite you find Triplicane gets special mention from someone who is associated with the MahaVishnu of Mount Road. But then, life in Triplicane revolves around two venerable institutions: the Parthasarathy temple and the Chepauk cricket ground. It was from Triplicane that the famous line of Iyengar cricketers emerged. Notable among these are M J Gopalan, C R Rangachari, W V Raman and S Venkataraghavan. Ms Lakshman captures the Chennaivasi's weakness for cricket.
Often called an overgrown village, Chennai remains a metropolis with modern amenities, impressive malls and swish restaurants; but it sits on a bedrock of orthodoxy, tradition and culture. It prides itself on its cultured and educated people, but there's room for plenty of nativity in Chennai. Here, slums reverberate with their own backstreet music, or gaana, and the "Madras Tamil" lingo is a hybrid of English and twisted Tamil words, and bits of Hindi too. If its classical music and dance remain elitist, its kitschy film world and political firmament have thrown up some of the most unique and unorthodox personalities. Ms Lakshman, through her well-researched and detailed descriptions, evokes these variegated aspects of Chennai's history and culture. Chennai sometimes seems an anachronism of a metropolis.
While Kolkata rests on its cultural pride, Delhi on its historical importance and Mumbai on its cosmopolitanism, Chennai, like a well-endowed and worldly queen, remains steadfast, following a pace of its own, allowing a quality of life according to individual taste. Ms Lakshman's book is a testimony to Chennai's past, its contemporary quirks, and political and cultural attributes.
For Chennai loyalists, this is a tome to cherish over a tiffin of sweet, kaaram and kaapi.
The reviewer is commissioning editor, Lonely Planet