Continued from Chennapuri: Part 1
Where I was born
I was born in a house
off Poonamalle High Road behind the present day Dasaprakash Hotel. My cousin Pushpa used to say that I was born at night when all the lights were twinkling.
One of my early memories is of a haircutting salon where I was taken often for
shearing off my mop of hair. Alas this mop of hair lasted only to my middle
age! Fortunately I was well endowed when I got married. Those days loss of hair
was tied with loss of virility by the girls. I was very ticklish and people had
to hold me down to get the hair cut.
Poonamalle High Road was
broad and tree-lined, with big houses and mansions on either side, and with
practically no traffic. At night it was deserted. The rich Marwarees and
Mudaliars had fancy mansions. Almost all of them have disappeared giving place
to commercial buildings and high rise apartments. One of the last to go was Kushaldas Gardens- a big mansion with lovely gardens, and this stayed up to the seventies
because the Income Tax department had taken it for their offices. There is one
mansion of that era still intact - Bedford House of the MCT group.
My parents were not
rich enough to a have a house of their own and stayed in rented houses. My mother’s
uncle was at that time a Major in the Indian Medical Services and he was
staying in one of the mansions. So I got to experience a feel of these
mansions. They were out of this world.
The road led to Aminjikarai
and on to the village of Poonamalle. This road to Poonamalle was a lovely winding
one with paddy fields on either side. The village itself was a nice quiet place
with a blind school and missionary houses and church. All this remains to this
day, but it has become a shanty town, crowded and dirty. We avoid it by taking
the bypass.
Poonamalle High Road going
to the east leads to Ripon Buildings, which houses the Chennai Corporation. This
magnificent building is in good shape and is looked after well by the
Corporation. The Chennai Corporation was set up in 1687 and is the oldest in Asia. Well known figures have headed it in the past. Sadly today the
council meetings are the venue for fist fights and sandal throwing. The city
work is however carried on well by a team of dedicated officers headed by a
Commissioner appointed from the administrative services.
Going further east,
there were the People’s Park, My Ladies Garden and the South India Athletic
grounds where annual fairs were held. The most popular event used to be the
Jutka race. This must have been similar to the Toga races in Rome. I have watched these races with my parents
and they were thrilling to a young boy. The races were fought very keenly by
drivers with fierce mustaches. The arena was full of dust and the din of
shouting was deafening. After all these years I can say they must have been
primed with toddy. The Governor used to inaugurate this event up until 1939.
Just before the Buckingham canal there was the magnificent Moore Market which was demolished to make way for the new railway terminus. Petitions and objections had no effect. A fire sealed the doom of the Moore Market - a landmark loved by the citizens - a market where you could buy anything including rare books and manuscripts.
Ripon Buildings and Moore Market: An aerial view
Moore Market entrance
A few words about the
mansion where my granduncle stayed. The house was well set in from the road
with a long driveway. There was a tall
porch in front with a two storied house set in a very large expanse of gardens.
The garages were at the back as also the attendants’ houses. We played most of
the day with the attendants' children. We were allowed in their house but not
the other way round. The living areas were downstairs and upstairs were five
bedrooms. The house had big open windows all round and I do not remember any
mosquitoes.
My granduncle was a
well known surgeon in the government hospital. He had honed his skills in the
Gallipoli campaign in the First World War. We were fascinated by his revolver
in a cupboard and used to play shooting games till my aunt saw us. I will leave
the rest to your imagination. There was an Armstrong Siddeley car and a Ford T
model and we enjoyed pretending to drive them. Poonamalle High Road was empty
most of the time except for an odd car and some jutkas. What a change from the
present day Poonamalle High Road!
I have copied below an ode to Moore Market by a grieving admirer.
(Source: http://www.geocities.com/ghisdsa/mooremarket.html)
Oh! Moore Market has many a story to be told, and thank God it doesn't stand to hold.
For Behold! Many of us Anglo Indians -know the truth. Which is hidden deep beneath her root.
The
importance it did hold. The things it saw and felt. Yes! it was the
best meeting place where we could rest in peace., when off those dirty
streets.
Her shops like Mangaram's, London Stores and more, were visited by me along with my parents then
Her second hand stall , were what my kids adored in their times, as that was all I could offer them, then.
And yet she stood like a serpent lifting her hood to all who passed her by.
Oh! tell me Why ? OH ! tell me Why she had to Die !!!!?
Never mind , to me she is still alive , Alive!!!!.
I'll never forget those steps I climbed, to wander around when I was as little as nine.
Seven of us at a time , would be taken to see her shine, during the festive seasons.
Many romances were founded around the circular crowds that went around her. veranda
Many a knowledge was founded-from all her old book stall that we hounded.
Thanks to the memories of the Moore Market , I too did stroll and roll all over her fold.
Ma and Pa , had three girls , and we were dressed in our best from all the Moore Market stored for us, from head to toes.
We
were called the most popular ladies at all the balls in all the hall,
just dressed with what we got from the Moore Market stalls.
Yet! we
do remember AND treasure the reason why, we looked and danced the
best!!! because it was Good Old Moore Market that helped us from her
stores.
I'll bring her back in all her splendour , and put her there to stand upon the COOM.
I'm angry with all those, who led her to her doom.
The most important and oldest ''Land Mark'' our forefathers groomed.
Was shattered down in few seconds.
Yet! she has extended arms , still alive with all her seconds.
Round
the bend , near the Zoo, you can still visit her .She will never give
up as she has stubborn qualities that was derived from us The Anglo
Indians, who are still left to shop around and still keep her company.
To be continued....
The shops of Moore market have spilled onto that street next to Central. None of the charm of the old complex. Completely avoidable nowadays I think.
Its the emerging age of the mall isnt it?
Maybe today's teenagers will talk about City Centre and Spencer Plaza with the same nostalgia when they are in their eightoes. Wonder what would have replaced them?!
Posted by: Ambika | November 09, 2007 at 07:22 AM
In my college days, Moore Market was one of the "cool" hangout spots - until it got edged aside (somewhat) by Fountain Plaza and its ilk. Moore Market was still the best place for used books, and they used to sell sandals for Rs 5, which were terribly uncomfortable and left horrible scar marks all over your feet, but you had to get them because everybody else had them!
Posted by: Kamini Dandapani | November 09, 2007 at 08:09 AM