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Changing cultural canvas
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Subtle tastes, fragrances, sights and sounds seem no longer part of the city's culture. Touched by the wand of globalisation, everything has become peppy, fun and trendy, writes LAKSHMI VISWANATHAN, describing the metamorphoses that Chennai has undergone over the years to become a modern metropolis.
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MADRAS REMAINED for many years a trading centre and port, without metamorphosing into a modern metropolis. Our relatives from Bombay came down for vacations and thought we were "country cousins" and ours was an overgrown village of sorts. All that has changed.
The culture of Chennai has changed as fast as the meaning of the word "culture". A few small pockets of the so-called "old world" culture, which has a distinct character still exist, but they generally look like faded sepia prints in an old family album... beautiful for those who understand it, precious for those who believe in it, but largely ignored by those who do not know anything about it.
Says writer and film maker Chetan Shah, "The city is losing its identity and character and is on the way to becoming another faceless metropolis. Every time I make a documentary, which involves using a backdrop of Chennai, I can't think of any images that capture the essence of the city and end up showing Mahabalipuram." Shopping malls and super-markets are the new recreation areas for families. That is, when they are not watching movies.
Take popular music in a broad sense. While the classical struggles to survive, popular music from cinema has even elders shaking a leg. A. R. Rahman unwittingly offered a platter that no one could refuse, a soulful "Vande Matharam", with a variety of "hammas" and "O lailas". His love of India redeemed him to such an extent that his success nationally and internationally, became "OUR" success. The old guard of uncompromising purists has drifted into oblivion in every sphere of culture. Even in cinema, no "classics" have been produced for ages.
We have a season of music in December and January, which has become so obese in size that no diet will re-vitalise it to make meaning. Changes are there, but nobody knows whether they are worthy of the true depth and beauty of the classical tradition. Musicians are out to impress, but rarely do they improve the intrinsic quality of the art.
Bharatanatyam has never been more democratic than it is today. Everybody is learning, everybody is teaching... well, almost. It was once an exotic lotus, which people admired, and seldom asked what it meant. But now it has been assiduously re-worked to reflect the new environment — speed and athleticism have replaced lyricism and grace. The rule today is to try to fuse, mix, match, and above all, hype and confuse. The performance may be eminently forgettable but the performer should be remembered. As Marshal McCluhan said: "The media is the message". The latest additions to our culture are the hot and glaring FM music stations, which are useful amusements when one wants to avoid swear words while driving through endless traffic snarls. Callers interrupt the bedroom melodies of Harris Jeyraj, and get heartily congratulated, talking about their "lovers"! "Kaadal" is the most popular word in the Tamil language whose literary richness is lost to millions of so-called Tamil people. Kollywood has ensnared them all into that illusory tinsel world, which has no real language.
Madras had no culture of eating out except at weddings and other grand occasions. The local Udupi or Iyer's was only for bachelors and commoners. Now eating out has a cult following. For every purse there is an eatery, with a generous sprinkling of global chains, which beckon the hungry with red neon lights. Even your humble roasted peanut on the seashore is slipping into third place, giving room to "masala" peanuts and "pani puri", which fill the sea-breeze with their compelling aroma, and keep entire families that spill off a two-wheeler, busy munching all evening.
Subtle tastes, fragrances, sights and sounds... they are all "OUT" in the changing culture of Chennai. It is a village, which has just been touched by the wand of globalisation. Everything has to be "peppy", fun and trendy. The young know what they want and are happy to get it. The ones that can afford to, borrow their father's hire-purchased Korean car, and spend the weekends indulging their idea of joyous sophistication — all night discos and beach parties.
A great Indian tradition has been given the go-by, quite unwittingly. The traditional greeting of both young and old with an elegant "Namasthe", with the palms of both hands meeting in a beautiful mudra is seen only rarely. During a visit to a high school in Bangkok, I was touched by the way every student greeted the teacher who took me around the campus with an elegant "Namasthe". I wonder whether Chennai could be the leader in introducing this in all the educational institutions. This alone could be a reminder of our ancient culture, and who knows, can be a precursor to many a new re-awakening.
It is the mature, informed, thinkers who are now in a vacuum of listlessness. Chennai does not provide enough forums for serious cultural endeavour. True, art galleries have mushroomed by the dozen. But they have not yet thrown up serious appreciation for art. Small groups get together to listen to intellectuals who can write, speak, analyse, whatever. But these are informal gatherings of like-minded people who find a comfort level in such gatherings that they cannot find anywhere else. Creative work in any cultural field gets only meagre support. In the shopping mall of sponsorships, seldom do daring and artistically challenging works get support.
Yet, Chennai looks vibrant, and according to the polls, viable. Kancheepuram sarees and their cheaper clones still make our women sigh with pleasure. Dosas are still made with the right ingredients. And temples bells continue to ring.
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