Streets are storytellers — physical narratives on places. They inevitably reflect the today. But often they smack of the past — the immediate, the forgotten and the distant. A visitor to Kozhikode can scoop together tidbits about the place if he/she fixes the jigsaw puzzle that is its street names. There are streets that have lived long but bear no sign of their past. There are street names that pique curiosity, but lead to dead ends. There are those that grant trivia. A few are meant to be a tribute. And then some exist for no apparent reason.
For a city whose best days are still in its past, street names give enough historical clues. The beach was our front to prosperity and the lanes along it speak worthy tales. Silk Street now bears no sign of silk. Instead, it throws up restaurants old and new, carpet and antique shops and residences. It could well be the lull before the cacophony of Big Bazaar.
Historian M.G.S Narayanan talks about the futile search for Chinese inscriptions on Silk Street years ago. “Old Chinese documents talk of Chinese inscriptions at three places; one in Sri Lanka and the other two in Tutticorin and Kozhikode in southern India. The other two inscriptions were found. I was part of the team who along with Chinese experts searched for the inscription. We searched around Silk Street but found nothing,” says Narayanan. Silk and China strike a connect and Narayanan says, “It is an assumption that some kind of silk trade happened here.”
Busy bazaar The Big Bazaar, a few metres down Silk Street, though leaves nothing to assumption. It is among the sturdy survivors of time; an artery in the commercial life of the city then as it is now. Narayanan in his book Calicut: The City of Truth , published by the University of Calicut, mentions Gunny Street, a bylane near Big Bazaar. As neighbour to the street that stood for trade and goods, Gunny Street stands true to its name. To this day, the narrow road is flanked by godowns largely in white and blue and one can still spot gunny bags lying in piles on the street as well as within the godowns. Of course, new businesses are mushrooming here too.
Further north to Silk Street is the Customs Road — a stretch that speaks of past maritime glory and commercial significance in British times. The street, now a quaint mix of the old Buddha Vihar and new enterprises, opens to the Beach Road. Narayanan says in his book, “The signal station, port office and the customs office were stationed near the lighthouse.”
However, for an outsider, the street that is our token to fame is always the S.M. Street, shortened and robbed of its sweetness, but immortalised in S.K. Pottekkat’s Oru Theruvinte Katha . The Sweet Meat Street dates back to the time of the Zamorin when the ruler invited Gujarati sweet meat makers to the city and accommodated their shops just outside the palace walls, says Narayanan. “The Zamorin’s kovilakom was in the Kottaparamba area and its walls were close to where the Government Women and Children Hospital now stands. The sweet makers were allowed space outside the wall,” says Narayanan. A few shops at the Halwa Street, at the fag end of S.M. Street, and a couple of stray bakeries on the main street are the only link to the sweet meat of yore now.
Sporty link A golf course in the city may appear a luxury today. But it was not so for the British. A road name that gives a hint of the British life in Kozhikode is the Golf Link Road stretching from Malaparamba to Chevayur.
“The British had a golf course near what is the Government Medical College today and what was then called Mayaparamba. The Golf Link Road was the way to it,” says P. Damodaran, senior journalist who is now compiling a book on street names.
The city has enough streets meant to honour enduring landmarks. Annie Hall road is a reminder to Annie Besant’s Theosophical Society on the street while Francis Road is a reference to the Franciscan Church on it. The Bank Road points to one of the oldest banks in the city, now the State Bank of India. A similar search of the “kottaram” that led to Kottaram Road sends one in knots . “It is believed that an erstwhile, influential family had their palace there. But the present bears no sign of it,” says Narayanan. Red Cross Road, a rather recent addition, Damodaran believes, is a salutation to the Society’s work in the city. Some streets are dedicated to communities; sample Gujarathi and Thangals Street. The quirky too has its place, Millennium Road for one.
Kozhikode has its share of streets and roads named after political icons, leaders and cultural representatives. M.G. Road may be ubiquitous to Indian cities. Kozhikode too has its Gandhi Road, but the road earned its name after Mahatma Gandhi visited the Sanmargadarshini Library situated on it in 1934. He is said to have proceeded to the beach from here. The library still has a Gandhi corner. Narayanan too makes a mention to the visit in his book. “Then the Evans Road was renamed as Gandhi Road, and opened for vehicles the same year,” he writes.
For the leaders
The city also has Indira Gandhi Road, though to its residents, it is always comfortingly the Mavoor Road. “We have the Manju Nath Rao Road, named after the first mayor of Kozhikode,” says Thottathil Raveendran, former mayor. Leaders and visionaries are presumably given their due with Rajaji Road, V.K. Krishna Menon Road and K.P. Kesava Menon Road; there are also streets for Vaikkom Mohammad Basheer, Balan K. Nair, P.M. Taj, P.T. Usha and others. Save a few and the personalities have nothing much to do with the roads they are named after.
Narayanan rues the political tones that street-naming has acquired in recent years. Raveendran agrees naming roads of late has become a reflection of political power. “It is the Corporation Council which has the power to name streets. Suggestions come in from diverse groups, the council verifies and then gives the go-ahead. The council also has the right to change a street’s name,” he says.
