Madras miscellany

May 23, 2010 04:03 pm | Updated November 17, 2021 05:47 am IST

Chittoor V. Nagayya.

Chittoor V. Nagayya.

The ‘Paul Muni of South India'

An invitation out of the blue from the Chittoor V. Nagayya Memorial Trust to commemorate this singer, actor, writer and whatever else in the stage and screen business — though there was no commemorative occasion that I could find in the invitation or his legend — reminded me that this was the actor whom feisty Baburao Patel, Editor of Mother India , once called “the Paul Muni of South India”. Muni, for those unfamiliar with the name, was the winner of the Best Actor Oscar in 1936 for his role in the film The Life of LouisPasteur and considered one of the best character actors of his time; he had four other Best Actor nominations in the 25 films he made before deciding to stick to the stage. Nagayya (aka Nagaiah) was, from 1938 till the early 1950s, considered the best character actor in South Indian cinema.

Nagayya's career, however, did not take the traditional route followed by many South Indian male stars. After college and participation in the freedom movement, he began to sing for his livelihood — not to an audience, but for a gramophone record company. He became popular as a “gramophone plate artist”. By then he had moved from Chittoor to Bangalore — and then he decided to move again, to the capital of the Presidency, Madras, where all the action was. There, while acting in Chennaipuri Andhra Maha Sabha stage productions at the Victoria Public Hall, he was spotted by Bommireddi Narasimha Reddi, to be soon better known as B.N. Reddi. When B.N. Reddi teamed with H.M. Reddi to produce their first film, Grihalakshmi , Nagayya got his break. When, despite the success of the film, the partners decided to go their own ways, Nagayya followed B.N. Reddi to his new venture, Vauhini Pictures, and scored in its first film, Vande Mataram .There followed success after success in Telugu films. Nagayya was to act in 137 of them. It was to be 1941 before he made a Tamil film, playing the part of the Emperor Ashoka in the film Ashok Kumar , starring Thyagaraja Bhagavathar and Pasupuleti Kannamba. He was to make 92 more Tamil films, besides eight each in Kannada and Hindi. One of those Tamil films was the immortal Meera , starring M.S. Subbulakshmi and directed by Ellis Dungan.

Those who recall his work, however, think his two best films were Thyagaiah (Telugu) and Ézhai Padum Paadu (Tamil), based on Victor Hugo's Les Miserablés . As Thyagaraja the saintly composer in the former and a Tamil Jean Valjean in the latter he turned in performances described as “classic”, justifying Baburao Patel's assessment of him nearly a decade earlier.

But for all his success, his last years were hard ones, financially, his open house policy and generosity contributing no little to this. Being awarded the Padma Shri — the first South Indian star to be so recognised — was of no help. Film historian Randor Guy recounts a Nagayya remark made when they once met: “I have only padmam , no shri (only fame, no fortune)”! The fortune had vanished with several fair weather friends. The others ensured a statue of him was posthumously erected in Panagal Park, not far from where he spent most of his Madras years.

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The forgotten canal builder

The latest query I've received from those Corporation officials tracking road names in the city is about Cochrane of Cochrane Basin Road, the road running parallel to and between the Buckingham Canal and the main railway line into Madras in the Korukkupet area. Basil Cochrane, a civil servant who came out Madras in the 1770s, is the man who should be considered the ‘Father of the Buckingham Canal'.

His plan to connect Madras with Ennore and Durgarayapatnam (Armagon) near Nellore by excavating what was left of the North, or Ezhambore, River got underway in the late 18th Century and was completed in 1801-2.

The first stretch of the Canal was opened by Edward Clive, the second Lord Clive who was Governor of Madras, and who, having encouraged the work, gave it his own name. When the second stretch (to Armagon) was completed in 1806, the whole canal was re-named the Cochrane Canal. It was later extended to Pedda Ganjam in what is today Orissa.

The basin remembered in the road's name was part of the first stretch of the canal. A stretch south of Madras, to Markkanam, was excavated while the work on the third phase was going on in what is today Andhra.

When the Duke of Buckingham and Chandos, Governor in the 1870s, linked the two canals through a third one dug in the city as famine relief work, the entire canal became known as the Buckingham Canal, Cochrane ignored again. Mercifully, the road named after him retains his name.

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When the postman knocked….

* V. Theetharappan sends me postscripts to three of my recent items. Referring to the Agri-Horticultural Society (Miscellany, April 19), he says that a letter from its then President, V.L. Ethiraj, the famous lawyer, in January 1955 provides some indication of what a welcoming type of place the society used to be. Ethiraj begins his letter to members by stating that January is the month for the Annual Flower Show, and also when memberships needed to be renewed. He then goes on to write:

“For a long time Madras has been famous as a city of beautiful trees, homes and gardens. This fame has been due in no small measure to the abiding interest of the members of this Society over the past century. Their pride and enthusiasm has kept alive a Botanical Garden — the largest of its kind in South India — where experimental shrubs and trees have been tested in the Madras climate, and which is open the year round to the public as a free park. It has also sustained a nursery for the propagation of plant materials for its members and the general public.”

Going on to speak about the membership dues, Ethiraj points out that based on the paid-up membership “every March Government allocates a matching grant”. The Government grant, he enthuses, “permits members to enjoy the privilege, an unusual one indeed, of receiving back their entire membership fee in the form of seedlings and other plant materials for their own gardens. For an active gardener, therefore, membership costs nothing.”

Over the last decade or so, the Society has reflected little or any of this, but this column wonders whether the new Botanical Gardens, Government is developing in the major half of what used to be the Society's gardens will bring back to life the scenario sketched by Ethiraj and the privileges the public once had.

* Referring to J.V.P Rao (Miscellany, April 26), Theetharappan tells me that Rao's father was J. Venkatanarayana Naidu, and that this former Commissioner of the Corporation of Madras (1925-28) is remembered in a road name in T. Nagar. Venkatanarayana Road is the road that links Panagal Park with Mount Road at the Chamier's Road junction. In many ways, this is an object lesson in road-naming, for it commemorates not a house owner or a political figure, but an official who contributed much to the city. A much-honoured Government servant, Naidu retired in 1930 as Secretary to Government, Law and Education Departments, a position he had held from 1928. A law graduate, he was interested in the arts (music and theatre) as well as writing. A Students' Manual of theHistory of England and Chain Survey Manual for Karnams and Revenue Subordinates reflected the work of a couple of departments he had served in during his career. And, recalling his own Underwood typewriter (Miscellany, May 3) that he had bought second-hand in Moore Market for Rs. 220 in 1953, Theetharappan says he was able to use it till 1987 entirely due to a typewriter mechanic called Martin, whose base was Kodaikanal. Martin was a travelling mechanic, whose circuit covered on a BSA bicycle — with a box attached to it for his toolkit — was from Kodai to Nagercoil. It was a route where he had a host of regular customers to call on — and every one of them waited for his arrival to service their typewriters. In the case of Theetharappan's typewriter, Martin bought it from him in 1987 for Rs. 750, spent Rs. 600 on restoring it, and sold it to a European in Kodai for Rs. 2500. Obviously Martin was no slouch at business either.

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