Because of Chennai’s ripe age and chequered history, the city is a great hunting ground for vestiges of its past. Its monuments, statues, buildings, street-names — each has a story to tell. For a thrill-spike, all you need to do is track the plaques strewn across the city’s walls, below monuments. I did, and came away with gems.
Ask for directions to My Fortune Chennai, (formerly Chola Sheraton), and the response you’ll get is: “Oh, the hotel on Cathedral Road with the stone outside.” The “stone” is a well-maintained structure that narrates an important slice of national history. In the compound stood the beautiful house of Kasturiranga Iyengar, who later bought The Hindu , and became its editor. “Rajaji had rented this house,” says historian Vakula S. Varadarajan. “Gandhiji visited Madras while gathering support for his anti-Rowlatt bill, and the idea of hartal flashed in his mind while staying here as Rajaji’s guest.”
Subramania Bharathi came here to request Gandhiji to speak at his meeting at Marina. Gandhiji declined, citing another appointment. Bharathi blessed Gandhiji’s movement and left in a hurry. Gandhiji asked Rajaji who he was, and Rajaji said, “Desiya Kavi.” “Take good care of him,” said the Mahatma, smiling. The day was March 23, 1919.” The house where Gandhi spent time is now a hotel.”
The plaque below U.V. Swaminatha Iyer’s statue outside Presidency College carries Bharathi’s verse, praising the Tamil scholar. “Bharathi used to attend Tamil Sangam meetings in Presidency,” says archaeologist T. Satyamurthy. “Once, he recited a poem on U-Ve-Sa. The original, handwritten copy is with us in the library.” Bharathi called him Kumbha Muni, the sage of Kumbakonam. In 1936, unveiling Bharathi’s picture at the Congress Bhavan, U-Ve-Sa spoke movingly of the linguistic beauty and nationalistic fervour in Bharathi’s compositions. Their admiration was mutual.
The round plaque on the western wall of Chepauk palace (near Buckingham canal) is tough to capture on camera. No thanks to the buildings around, you get only glimpses of the Indo-Saracenic handsomeness of this magnificent edifice. Its history, however, remains unerased. Briefly, Lord Clive sent his soldiers to occupy the palace in 1801, reduced the Nawab to a titular head. The last Nawab died in 1855, the British moved everyone out, and Amir Mahal became the home of the Princes of Arcot. In 1859, the Madras government put the property up for sale and bought the palace, Marine Villa and 117 acres for Rs. 5.8 lakhs, by paying the minimum asking-price. In the next 30 years, a chunk of the northern half of Chepauk Park was added to the grounds. Government offices came in. While all the newly-built offices faded, the Palace and two additions by Chisholm presented a splendorous sight from across the beach. More buildings effectively hid the Benfield-Chisholm complex from the Marina and denied people even a rear view. There is no entry to the plaque from the inside, but it’s high above the wall for a decent photograph. Significantly, it says, “These buildings formerly formed part of the palace of the Nawab of Carnatic.”
We notice the construction debris and rush into the large 180-year-old house adjacent to the Parthasarathy temple. The interior is unrecognisable. The antique wooden structures are missing, the walls have been knocked down. The plaque on the front wall engraved with the names of Bharathi, V.O. Chidambaram Pillai and Bal Gangadhar Tilak has been “bull-dozed”. “On his nation-wide yatra with his wife, Gandhi came to the house after worshipping at the temple,” said 93-year-old S. Parthasarathy, son of Mandyam Srinivasa Iyengar, the first owner of the house. Nationalists of the time often met in this house. Bharathi would sing, sitting here. When he was attacked by an elephant, we took him to Royapettah hospital. In 1919, we held the first Hindi class in Madras in these rooms, Gandhi’s son Devdas gave lessons. Sarojini Naidu spoke to the Hindi learners. Srinivasachari ran the weekly paper India (1906) from this house. Actor/dancer Vyjayanthimala was born here.”
At Fort St. George, a plaque marks Admiralty House, the place where Robert Clive lived. The one on the Maraimalai Adigal Bridge, Saidapet, is in three languages (find out what the languages are!). At the Senate House, the bush-hidden pedestal of Queen Victoria’s statue tells its story. At the National Art Gallery, Pantheon Road, a corner stone proclaims it was laid by King George V. Step into Mayday Park to read the plaque below the statue of Tudor Bedda (1866), the British judge. The plaque at the Police Photography Department says it was inaugurated in 1882. At St. Andrew’s Kirk, Egmore, the Hebrew letters at the façade say “I am what I am”. And don’t miss the obelisk indicating the boundary of Esplanade at Parry’s Corner.
Join the hunt. Guess where this corner stone is?
