Activists like Veerammal, Vanjinagaram Kandan and Cuddalore Pandian had fought for the rights of the oppressed at different periods of time from 1890 to 1990.
Chennai :
An alumni group from various government fine arts colleges in Tamil Nadu is in the process of etching in stone portrait statues of unsung dalit activists who fought for the rights of the downtrodden.
Activists like Veerammal, Vanjinagaram Kandan and Cuddalore Pandian had fought for the rights of the oppressed at different periods of time from 1890 to 1990.
“I have compiled a list of 26 such activists for making their statues,” Dalit historian Stalin Rajangam told PTI. In the 1950s, Veerammal, belonging to Tiruchirapalli, constructed a school for dalit girls.
Hailing from Madurai, Vanjinagaram Kandan, during the 1980s, fought for the rights of dalits to access water.
While Tirunelveli’s Ponnusamy fought for temple entry, Pandian sought the right to refuse to play the Parai (drum) when demanded by dominant castes, Rajangam said.
“Kandan, Ponnusamy and Pandian – all were murdered for fighting for the cause.
There are a lot of others who contributed during the century, but these 26 names had enough documents and photographs available,” Rajangam said.
Former Government College of Fine Arts, Chennai, Principal, G Chandrasekaran, who is leading the team of sculptors said Mahatma Gandhi is an icon.
However, there were also a lot of people who worked on the ground but were not as recognised as him, he said.
“This is an attempt to appreciate the contributions made by such unsung heroes,” Chandrasekaran said.
An initiative of director Pa Ranjith’s ‘Neelam Panbaattu Maiam’ (Neelam Cultural Centre), the 26 statues would be displayed at a three-day event – Vaanam Arts Festival – to be held in Chennai from December 29 to 31.
Neelam Cultural Centre coordinator Udaya said the festival would display various dalit art forms.
Rajangam said while 25 of them were natives of Tamil Nadu, a foreigner who made it to the list is James H A Tremenheere.
Tremenheere was the Chengalpattu collector in the 1890s. He assigned 12 lakh acres to the oppressed classes of the Madras Presidency, Rajangam said.
The sculptors are from Government College of Architecture and Sculpture, Mahabalipuram and Government College of Fine Arts at Kumbakonam, Puducherry and Chennai.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> States> Tamil Nadu / by PTI / December 13th, 2018
One of the oldest post offices in the Nilgiris, the Fernhill post office in Udhagamandalam. | Photo Credit: M_Sathyamoorthy
The Fern Hill sub post office, which has been functioning in the same building since the late 1800s, is in need of urgent renovation, with a portion of the wall holding up the structure sustaining severe damage and in danger of caving in.
The post office, which operates in two expansive rooms, is an ideal example of colonial architecture, and is believed to have been built during the time when the Maharaja of Mysore moved to the Nilgiris.
Venugopal Dharmalingam, honorary director of the Nilgiri Documentation Center (NDC), said that it was probable that the building belonged to the Maharaja, who in turn allowed for the post office to be set up there, sometime in the 1870’s.
“Fern Hill itself has a very interesting history, with it making up the early British township in Udhagamandalam,” said Mr. Venugopal.
There had been plans to shut down the sub post office in Fern Hill a few years ago, but opposition from heritage enthusiasts had ensured that the building remains open to the public to this very day. However, lack of maintenance of the building has led to the wooden roof overhanging the front elevation of the building, sagging and in danger of collapse, while other signs of structural damage are also visible to the rear of the main structure.
Mr. Venugopal Dharmalingam believes that preservation of heritage structures is important, but said that to conserve buildings of historical value in the Nilgiris, they need to be identified first. “Firstly, what constitutes a heritage structure, be it a building, a bridge or even a lamp post, needs to be clearly defined, and then the historical value of such structures need to be assessed,” he added.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> Cities> Coimbatore / by Rohan Premkumar / Udhagamandalam – November 26th, 2018
Most primary schools in the State are run by local bodies. There are only 27 primary schools, including three in Erode district, directly under the government.
Erode :
A government primary school on Periyar Street here is perhaps the only one of its kind in the State: it is entirely English medium as parents want to enrol their children only in these classes. English medium classes were opened here eight years ago when the late Chief Minister Jayalalithaa allowed their parallel sections from the first standard. Since then, the demand has increased and gradually, it became a fully English medium.
The school, established 158 years ago, used to be the primary section of the Government Girls Higher Secondary School at PS Park, Erode. In 2001, it was made a separate school with a separate head. Most primary schools in the State are run by local bodies. In fact, there are only 27 primary schools, including three in Erode district, directly under the government. Of the three in the district, two are in the city and one in Bhavanisagar.
When the present headmaster, V S Muthuramasamy, took charge, its strength was 72, but now there are 310 students, more than 200 of them being girls. It has 10 teachers, all of whom are postgraduates; three of them, including the headmaster, have an MPhil degree. However, Plus Two with DTEd is the basic qualification for teachers of primary schools.
All classes from the first to the fifth standard have two sections, each with 25-30 students. So, the school has just enough number of teachers.
Good infrastructure
The school now has enough infrastructure, like any private school, to attract parents. Earlier, when it did not have enough of them, former MLA of Erode East, V C Chandrakumar (2011-16), granted Rs 33.50 lakh from his MLA fund to construct a new, well-furnished three-classroom building in place of the old tiled building. The present MLA, K S Thennarasu granted Rs 10 lakh to lay a proper floor and dig a new borewell.
The RMSA office in the school was shifted to the CEO’s Office and the building is now used to conduct classes. Using SSA and panchayat union funds, eight toilets and a noon-meal centre were constructed recently; a bicycle parking space was also created.
Erode West MLA K V Ramalingam, during a recent visit, agreed to help construct a compound wall with a good gate. With donations from the public, walls of all classrooms, both inside and outside, were painted with pictures of leaders, scientists, birds, animals, flowers, trees, alphabets, etc, to encourage children to learn about them. Also, panels with Tirukkurals written on them have been hung in the buildings.
English medium in govt schools will not harm Tamil
ERODE: “ALL parents want to put their kids in English medium classes. I can’t force them to enrol the children in Tamil medium. If I try to do that, they will go to other schools. And rules say admission
should not be refused to any child. Through parents’ choice, all classes here are now English medium. There is no Tamil medium class,” V S Muthuramsasmy, headmaster of the Government Primary School on Periyar Street in the city told Express.
“Having only English medium classes in the school is not wrong,” said Muthuramsasmy, who is also district secretary of the Tamil Nadu Aarambapalli Aasiriyar Koottani. “Parents are clamouring to see their children speak English. They send them to private schools, unmindful of the hefty fees, for it. If the government itself provides good English medium education, they will not spend so much money on private schools. In fact, only if this demand is met will the strength of government schools increase,” he added.
Opening LKG and UKG sections in all government schools will not affect Tamil, he said. All students have to learn Tamil as the first language. Besides, many in Tamil medium students who score high marks in Plus Two find higher studies, all of which is in English medium, difficult. A student learning in English from the primary level will find higher education easier.
As all the teachers here are postgraduates, there is no difficulty in conducting classes in English. The English reading and writing skills the school’s students are very good, said, teachers. Hearing some students – Saranya and Saravanan of the fourth standard and Dhanushka and Merlin of the fifth – read lessons from their English texts and explain the meaning in Tamil clearly, proved their claims. The books in English for other subjects were also easy.
In fact, the students find the Tamil textbooks harder. “Spoken English classes are conducted using CDs. So the children learn the pronunciation easily,” said Umamaheswari, a teacher. “The school also arranges free classes for karate and music. The teachers are paid from the school fund. ID cards and diaries also are given free of cost to all students. As private schools collect Rs 20-40,000 for the same education at the primary level, many parents prefer this school.
It is the main reason that our strength is growing every year. Our aim is to make the school first in the State in all aspects in the coming years,” she added. Attracted by the good high quality of education in this school, many parents pulled their children out of private schools and put them here. In fact, admissions in the nearby corporation, and even private, schools have come down because of this.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> States> Tamil Nadu / by Express News Service / November 20th, 2018
When A K Chettiar asked Subhas Chandra Bose to smile for a picture, he was told, ‘I do not smile under orders’
Netaji with A.C.N. Nambiar, Hedy Fülöp-Miller, his nephew A.N. Bose and Emilie Schenkl. The picture was taken by A.K. Chettiar in 1937 in Badgestein, Austria. Image courtesy of A R Venkatachalapathy
In the winter of 1937, Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose spent six weeks in Badgestein, Austria, recouping his health. A few photographs, shot against the background of the snow-covered hills, have survived from those days. Dressed in a heavy coat Netaji is seen with A C N Nambiar, Hedy Fülöp-Miller, his nephew A N Bose and Emilie Schenkl. These photographs were shot by a most unlikely person. The man behind the camera was a self-effacing young man of twenty-six, born in the dry hinterland of the Tamil country.
Annamalai Karuppan Chettiar or A K Chettiar (1911-1983) was a journalist who had edited journals in his hometown of Karaikudi, and later in Rangoon. Barely two months before photographing Netaji, on a voyage from New York to Dublin, he had hit upon an audacious idea. He wanted to make a documentary on Gandhi based near-exclusively on footage already shot by various news agencies and amateurs. To realize this dream he circumnavigated the world twice even as the World War was imminent, collected over 50,000 feet of actual footage, produced the documentary, and released it first in Tamil, in August 1940 (and a little later in Telugu). In 1950 it was made in Hindi. In 1953, he remade the film in Hollywood and released it under the title Mahatma Gandhi: Twentieth Century Prophet. But all this was later.
A few years earlier, Chettiar had trained in the Imperial College of Photography in Tokyo and later in the New York Institute of Photography. While studying at New York, he interned with the famed Pathé News agency. Even though he was critical of the Nazis, he had come to Germany, for 10 weeks, to train under Karl Vass of the Nazi Propaganda Bureau.
It was at this time, in December 1937, that Chettiar wrote to Netaji from Vienna asking to film him. We do not know why he wanted to film him — it is likely that it was for his film on Gandhi. Chettiar’s original documentary on Gandhi not having survived — Chettiar could beat the British censors and the police during the Quit India movement but not the apathy of his countrymen — we do not know for sure.
Netaji replied promptly. But the letter carried only a post box number. Chettiar did not hesitate. He promptly took a train early next morning, and arrived late in the evening at Badgestein. He planned to check into a hotel room, hoping to enquire of Netaji’s whereabouts at the post office later.
At the train station was a swarm of hoteliers, and Chettiar chose one. But the agent soon handed over Chettiar’s luggage to another man. When they reached the hotel a surprised A C N Nambiar emerged wondering how Chettiar had managed to trace him. Soon they surmised that the hotelier had assumed that a brown-skinned man could have come only to meet Netaji and had brought him there.
At the dinner table was A N Bose, the son of Netaji’s elder brother studying at England who was visiting his uncle. Two women, Fülöp-Miller, a writer and “a younger woman, Subhas Babu’s secretary whom he later married”, Emilie Schenkl, were present as well.
Ignoring Chettiar’s protests that it was too late in the evening to bother the great man, Nambiar announced that Netaji, lodged in an adjacent room, would meet them soon. But before he made his appearance the wine bottle on the table was put away. Chettiar felt edgy — he never imagined that he would be able to meet Netaji in person, and at such close quarters. He thought to himself, “So many lakhs of people in India were eager to have a darshan of Subhas babu. Few could meet him alone in India. But here I was and wondered at my great fortune.” As he greeted the leader with folded hands, he trembled.
Netaji put him at ease. Enquiring after him, Netaji did not stop with checking with the hotel owner if everything was fine. He took Chettiar to his room, checked on the amenities and showed him the use of the toilet facilities. An emotional Chettiar could barely sleep that night. Tossing in bed he woke up unusually late the next morning.
The next day it was lunchtime before he met Netaji. At the table, Chettiar observed, Netaji’s conversation was marked by “resolve and humour”. Chettiar snapped a number of pictures in the afternoon. The following morning Chettiar made Netaji sit on a chair at the hotel entrance. But when asked to smile, he replied: “I do not smile under orders.”
It was a cold winter day, and Chettiar could barely click the camera with gloves on, and therefore he removed them. By the time he had clicked twice his fingers had become numb. Blood began to ooze from his fingers. Netaji rushed to him, bandaged his fingers with his handkerchief, and ordered that it was “enough of taking pictures”. The next day, the shooting continued with Chettiar’s new and expensive moving camera. Chettiar’s work was over in three days. But Netaji asked him to stay for a few more days. Chettiar observed in his memoir, written 24 years later, “I had the fortune of staying with Subhas Babu for one whole week when all I had requested was a couple of hours.” One afternoon he also had the privilege of going out with Netaji and his group on a sleigh drawn by dogs. When Chettiar left for Rome from Badgestein, Netaji helped Chettiar with purchasing the tickets.
This was not Chettiar’s only meeting with Netaji. A year later he filmed him during the Congress working committee meeting at Wardha. Two years later, when in Calcutta, Chettiar went to meet him. At the Elgin Road residence, Chettiar was taken by Netaji’s secretary to his bedroom. Netaji was resting on his bed after lunch. Apologizing, he said, “When I meet familiar persons I do not observe formalities,” and pointed to the wall. The photographs snapped by Chettiar at Badgestein hung there. “I love the snow,” said Netaji.
The author is a historian and Tamil writer based in Chennai
source: http://www.telegraphindia.com / The Telegraph, Online Edition / by A.R. Venkatachalapathy / October 30th, 2018
Seven books and 40 years of service. Meet Srinivasa Venkatraman, a 95-year-old retired railway historian, whose child-like enthusiasm and energy defy age.
Venkatraman’s (third from left) latest book will be launched at the rail museum in New Delhi on November 18
Chennai :
Seven books and 40 years of service. Meet Srinivasa Venkatraman, a 95-year-old retired railway historian, whose child-like enthusiasm and energy defy age. Dressed in a formal shirt and pant, his eyes gleam through a pair of brown glasses as he vividly narrates his life story. “These books are my prized possessions.
Anybody working on railway projects, PhD topics and preparing for UPSC examinations will find them to be important resource materials. The topmost railway officials and general managers have appreciated my work. I hope to take these books to the shelves of railway museums, libraries, hospital and other public spheres in the future. My books will help youngsters respect the heritage,” says the nonagenarian.
Photo: Debadatta Mallick
Madras to Varanasi
A resident of Mylapore, Venkatraman joined the Madras Southern Mahratta railway in 1942 as the materials manager. His job was to receive materials required for the trains and distribute them to other station masters. He was stationed at Hubli, one of the biggest workshops of those times, where locomotives used to be given for service, till 1944.
Soon, he was transferred to Madras. The railway board in Delhi then was looking to recruit 100 people across the country with five from each state. Venkatraman cleared the test and moved to the national Capital and worked there between 1944-1956. “My wife Lalitha Venkatraman and I completed our Bachelors in arts degree in Delhi. I enrolled for evening classes at Birla Mandir. I’d pass on the books to my wife who studied at home.
That was the time when steam engines were replaced by diesel engines. I requested for a transfer to Varanasi where a huge diesel locomotive workshop was set up. My wife completed her MA in Political Science at Banaras Hindu University. That motivated me to get my own Masters in Political Science from Tribhuvan University in Kathmandu. She went on to pursue her PhD in the same subject. We lived our golden period between 1957-1982 in Varanasi and I retired as a stores officer there,” shares Venkatraman, who continued to stay in Varanasi for another 20 years and came back to Chennai in 2008.
Fame at 90
After his retirement in 1985, Venkatraman used to write several articles for the Indian Railway Magazine every once in three to six months. He learned how to write a footnote, gather research materials and collect books from his wife who was actively involved with her PhD lectures. In 2013, he penned his first book Indian Railways- the Beginning. After an overwhelming response, he published his second book Indian Railways at a glance in 2014.
But, given the volume of information, Srinivasa had to simplify it through four subsequent books — The Madras Railway (2014), The Goa Railway (2015), PM Modi- the Indian Railways (2016) and The Pondicherry Railway (2017). Every book has a set of pictures, extensive history and images of preserved documents from the times of Britishers. The latest book on The Nilgiris Mountain Railway will be launched at the rail museum in New Delhi by BBC correspondent Mark Tully on November 18. The book is dedicated to the current chairman of Indian Railway Board, Ashwani Lohani.
“I type 20 pages a day. My four children were concerned about my health. I spent most of my time on the trains, covered more than 1,000 stations and lived like a nomad. Despite the one-man army effort there was not much of a recognition or empathy at all.
After a point, it became emotional and physically draining. Sourcing of information and rare documents from national archives was a daunting task. My motive is to preserve these heritage documentations not for fame but for my own satisfaction. Even when I sleep, the determination to pen another book constantly keeps me awake,” says Venkatraman.
Memorable trips
“Every Sunday there’s a train from Chennai to Goa. My favourite rail route has always been from Goa to Londa (a town in Karnataka). I must have taken that route at least a 1,000 times. One such experience was through Braganza Ghat, a stretch of hill station at Goa-Karnataka border.
It is the steepest gradient in Indian railways. The way these Britishers have constructed the tracks, bridges and brake system is impeccable. The engines designed to function in hill stations have an excellent brake system and engine power. One engine pushes the other from behind and climbs up the hills. Sadly, we find it difficult to maintain these engines and keep them in a good condition.”
For details call Venkatraman on 9444444865
What’s your take on bullet trains in India?
Bullet trains are not required in the present circumstances. But in order to keep pace with America, China and Japan we may need it in the future. We have evolved from having tradition steam engines to diesel and eventually electric. On the downside, considering the exorbitant price of a bullet train, it might not be affordable. We need to make a foundation today to achieve something big in 10 years. It is a necessary evil after all.
If you were made the Railway minister what changes would you bring about?
The work culture has to be changed. Discipline must be enforced and punishments should be given. People take the Railways for granted. Unionism must be broken. We need to sack people if they’re not performing efficiently.
Rail routes that Indians must go on at least once
Mettupalayam-Ooty: This beautiful mountainous railway is worth seeing. The functioning is peculiar. Here, the engine from the back pushes the train forward. Kalka-Shimla: The toy train is a delight to watch considering the scenic path it takes. And, the Mumbai-Pune route.
Did you know?
● The Railways is the largest employer with a total of 1.4 million employees
● There are around 7,500 small and big stations in India
● The Southern Railways was created on April 14, 1951
● The first passenger train in South India ran from Royapuram to Wallajah road on July 1,1856
Source: tnpscthervupettagam.com
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Cities> Chennai / by Vaishali Vijaykumar / Express News Service / November 08th, 2018
The sailor arrives on Indian shores with his fleet of four ships. His fellow travellers have never seen anything like this before. The locals of the village are curious, some of them running to inform the king of this mysterious arrival.
The ‘hero’ of this tale, as recounted in Naveen Haldorai’s Tamil language podcast, Varalaru, is Portuguese explorer Vasco da Gama. And the year is 1498.
The four-episode-old podcast, which traces da Gama’s journey, is unabashedly historical. “History is not boring,” emphasises 28-year-old Haldorai. It lends itself to fast-paced narration. “It is loaded with stories, myths, facts and shocking truths that are relevant to what’s happening today. But the way it was introduced to us in school was boring.”
The podcast is not just for children, or even history buffs. It is for anyone who is up for a good story.
Varalaru starts with the host explaining why India was such a hot commodity for foreign conquistadors of the 15th century, before going on, in subsequent episodes, to explain the legacy of da Gama, one of the most well-known foreigners to embark on Indian soil.
With each episode running for less than 12 minutes, Haldorai’s crisp voice booms, supported by audio effects. Thunderous rainstorms? Waves lapping up on the shore? Check. And all this was launched with just one microphone and two volumes of history books, in a small room in his home in Vadavalli, Coimbatore. The result sounds like it was recorded in a studio.
Radio revolution
The 28-year-old is not new to the world of voice-based technology. He has worked as an RJ and a voice-over artiste for TV shows (Bigg Boss 2, notably), dabbling in freelance assignments as well. “I’ve always been interested in the audio medium,” he says.
He was in college when the radio boom happened in India, with several stations launching. Suddenly, everyone was tuning into a radio channel and he wanted to see what it was all about. With his deep voice and well-rounded Tamil, he got an offer to work as an RJ, which he did for 18 months. “The stint taught me how powerful the medium was,” says Haldorai, who also runs his mother’s company that produces millet-based noodles.
Just a few months old, the podcast only has around 550 listeners per episode, but the format is refreshingly unusual, the quality reflecting his extensive research and storytelling skills. “I plan to do a podcast on the Jallianwala Bagh massacre next,” he says. This week, his channel, CurryPodcasts, also released the first episode of a series of spooky stories for children. “All of us like a good ghost story, don’t we?”
Podcast mania
“There are so many budding podcasters in our country who are doing a good job,” he says, about the advent of the medium in India. “With media companies entering the fray, it will develop in the future.” He mentions Dan Carlin, the iconic former radio personality whose podcast, Hardcore History, has at least a million downloads per episode, ranking highly on any history loving audiophile’s list. “He releases just one podcast on American history every three or four months but they are really good. He captures the essence of a good story through his narration, so much so that he’s called America’s best history teacher,” says Haldorai.
According to him, a good podcast — as opposed to the video content that our timelines are flooded with — is like listening to an intimate conversation. “Right now, most of us are glued to our mobile phones, with our heads bent,” he says. “There will soon come a time when we hold our heads high, earphones plugged, listening to a podcast.”
Curry Podcasts is available on iTunes and Google Podcasts, among others.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society / by Akila Kannadasan / November 02nd, 2018
St. Thomas is largely credited with bringing Christianity to India
When Reverend Father P.J. Lawrence Raj was an assistant priest in Chennai, he wrote many letters to the bishops of the Catholic world. When he didn’t get a response, he wrote to Christian magazines.
His letters were an attempt to solve a new-age problem afflicting a historical icon: in a saturated religious marketplace, he was seeking brand recognition for St. Thomas, one of the 12 apostles of Jesus and the man largely credited with bringing Christianity to India through the Malabar coast in 52 AD.
Fr. Raj composed these letters over 30 years ago, on St. Thomas Mount, a hillock overlooking Chennai’s airport. Two thousand years ago, when there was no airport, no flights roaring overhead, and when most of the surrounding land was dense forest, it is believed that the apostle Thomas was murdered by a group of Hindus who did not fancy his proselytising.
“I have a special attachment to him,” says Fr. Raj. “He was a great witness for faith. We are all Doubting Thomases — we don’t believe easily.”
Fr. Raj, who was ordained 36 years ago, has served at some of the Ivy League institutions of Chennai’s Catholic world — Santhome Basilica, where Thomas is buried; Velankanni Church, dedicated to Mother Mary, and now Little Mount, where the apostle is believed to have hidden from his murderers inside a grotto.
Thomas is believed to have lived, and preached, in the Chennai region for over 13 years. As one of the original Twelve, he has built-in brand recognition. There are churches, roads and even hospitals named after him. But of late, he is no longer the draw he once was; festivals dedicated to his memory are in the shadow of others, notably the Velankanni festival, which draws the faithful in their thousands.
Neglected saint
“Two thousand years is a long time,” Fr. Raj muses. “What happened after St. Thomas was martyred and till the Portuguese came, we don’t know. The Portuguese gave more importance to Our Lady. To be very frank with you, it is the people of Kerala who are more attached to St. Thomas; they call themselves St. Thomas Christians. In Tamil Nadu, we have more of an attachment towards St. Francis Xavier, or recent saints like Mother Teresa. And when Velankanni Church came up in Besant Nagar in the 1970s, our devotion to Our Lady became stronger. Perhaps priests didn’t take the initiative, but I think we have neglected St. Thomas.”
Fr. Raj’s efforts to bring Thomas back to the mainstream narrative of Chennai’s Roman Catholic world reads like a marketing campaign: High-level initiatives include a renovation, in the early 2000s, of the Santhome Basilica where the remains of the apostle were buried in a crypt below surface level. Members of his parish nicknamed him ‘Father Renovation’ as he orchestrated a slew of beautification and restoration projects in his parish churches, including St. Teresa’s Church in Nungambakkam, even as he faced allegations of corruption and misappropriation of funds. “I tell people that ‘that this tomb of Thomas is the womb of Christianity in India’ — without Thomas, Christianity would not have come to India so early, and here at Little Mount, I am trying to do the same work I did at Santhome.”
Fr. P.J. Lawrence Raj who is spearheading renovation work | Photo Credit: R. RAVINDRAN
Outside, on the sloping grounds of Little Mount Church, a short-statured, elderly man dressed all in white with a black belt takes up the story. D’Cruz knows four languages, and claims to have a connection with Thomas “that nobody else has”.
The church’s local guide steers you in the direction of the grotto, pausing to point out the spots where Thomas placed his hand, his foot, his knee. Gesturing at a narrow opening in the cave, he says, “This was not an open space, but when Thomas prayed and needed to escape, it opened up.”
Reviving Thomiyar
He ticks all the boxes: the bleeding cross, the holy fountain where Thomas quenched his thirst during those last hours (whose water is now sold in plastic bottles for a nominal fee), and even tells me a slice of his own personal story. “For me, it is 100% Jesus,” D’Cruz says. “He and the Mother have brought me to Thomiyar.”
He sees a group of Korean tourists approaching, and breaks off our conversation. “Excuse me, over here!” he calls out, in suddenly accented English. “Do you want to know about Thomas?”
D’Cruz is a grassroots ambassador for Thomas, and fits in with Fr. Raj’s plan to make the apostle relevant again. His compatriot Aubrey Laulman, an Anglo-Indian who started working at the church eight years ago, after settling his daughters in marriage, performs a similar function at St. Thomas Mount. He says he was hesitating on the steps leading up to the mount when he felt a gentle but irresistible push on his shoulder. “It was a miracle,” he says, drawing my attention to the cross believed to have been hand-carved on the rock by Thomas himself.
An altar for St. Thomas at Little Mount church | Photo Credit: R. RAVINDRAN
“Look at it from different angles, you will see how intricate the work is,” Laulman points out. “Those days, people prayed a lot. That’s why Thomas was able to do so many miracles. They prayed a lot because there was no Tata Sky,” he says, laughing at his own punchline, the sound of his delight bouncing off the empty walls of his church. “Don’t mind me, I am very frank.”
D’Cruz and Laulman are spreading the story of St. Thomas among those who visit the two churches, but Fr. Raj’s focus is on those who don’t even make it as far. “After I took over the parish two years ago, we have made The Feast of St. Thomas an 11-day affair, not three,” he says, as we pick our way gingerly across the debris of building work. “We are renovating the entire church; we will make the festival as popular as The Feast of Our Lady, which is celebrated after Easter. It is time to focus our attention on St. Thomas, to give him publicity, and get the parishioners and the public involved in the story.”
This essay is from a National Geographic Society and Out of Eden Walk journalism workshop.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society> Field Notes> Sunday Magazine / October 27th, 2018
A documentary, titled Boys from Vepery by Fokiya Akhtar, explores the migration of members of the Irish community to India during the Great Famine of Ireland during 1840-50.
Ian Michael, professor of marketing at Zayed University, Dubai, has vivid memories of listening to stories told by his great-grandmother, Agnes Footman, when he was 12 years old. Sipping grog in an old-style British home at Hyderabad’s Sarojini Devi Road, Agnes would tell of her great grandfather’s family of fighters and revolutionaries who migrated to India during the Great Famine of the 1840s and ’50s. She would go on for hours, talking about the valour and lineage of these Irishmen. As a child, the thing that stood out most for Ian was his family’s accent — an unusual mix of Irish and Indian.
About 40 years later, when he mentioned his Irish connection to Fokiya Akhtar, a fellow professor at the university, she said the story had the potential for a documentary. In the next few months, Michael and Akhtar had multiple sittings and locked the script for the documentary, Boys from Vepery, which they plan to release in mid-2018.
“The protagonist of the documentary is John Footman. He was my great-grandmother’s grandad. Footman was a famine migrant who travelled by ship from Ireland to Vepery, Madras, in 1847 as enlisted Irish fusiliers with the British East India Company. My mum’s mother also came from Irish stock. Her grandfather, William Curran, sailed as a 10-year-old boy from Ireland with his father Patrick and his three sisters,” Michael told HT, via email.
The documentary traces John Footman’s family to Clonakilty, a town in County Cork, Ireland.
Most of the Footmans served in the Army and Railways. After the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857, the British East India Company was disbanded and John Footman joined the British Army. He married a woman called Matilda, who was most likely Mangalorean. Their eldest son, Patrick, joined the British Railways in Madras. Patrick’s daughter Agnes (Michael’s great-grandmother) left Madras with three of her brothers to settle in Secunderabad. She married Lewis Francis, a senior railway line inspector with the then British railways.
“My grandmother Joyce Curran was the Station Master of Nampally (a Hyderabad suburb) station in the 1960sand ’70s. Her brothers, the Currans, were divers at the Mazagaon docks in Bombay. They migrated to the UK a few years after India got independence,” says Michael.
In India, the Footmans kept to themselves, mostly interacting with members of the Irish-Indian and Anglo-Indian communities. The only Indians they interacted with were the people they worked with. Nor did they imbibe the Indian culture. The women of the family never wore Indian clothes.
All their weddings were held at two Parsi community centres – the Zoroastrian Club and Percy’s hotel in Secunderabad. And their dances, especially at Christmas and New Year’s Eve, would involve lots of dancing and drinking, just like they would have back home in Ireland.
Picnics centred on fishing and shooting. Michael remembers going with his uncles and grand uncles, fishing and shooting in the forests of Andhra Pradesh, including Nizamabad.
For research, Michael made multiple visits to Ireland to obtain baptism and death certificates; went through the records of the British Indian Army and the Chelsea Hospital. He began investigating the Curran side of the family, but ended up getting more details about the Footmans. “I met relatives. We were several generations apart during filming and this feeling was nostalgic, filled with unique emotions,” Michael says.
Michael uncovered during his research a fascinating connection with General Michael Collins, a politician and soldier who spearheaded the struggle for Irish independence in the early 20th century and became the leader of the provisional government of the Irish Free State. “I discovered that John Footman’s mother was one Joan Collins, who came from the same village as General Collins,” says Michael.
He also stumbled upon the information that the ancestors of the late US President John F Kennedy, Margaret Field and James Hickey, came from Clonakilty and surrounding villages too. “So while John Footman chose to use the Indian Ocean route and came to India in 1847, his probable mates, the Fields and Hickeys, chose the Atlantic-to -Newfoundland route and went to Boston,” Michael says.
source: http://www.hindustantimes.com / Hindustan Times / Home> Art & Culture / by Danish Raza, Hindustan Times / May 21st, 2017
Velu Nachiyar, the little-known queen from Tamil Nadu, was the first Indian ruler to fight and triumph against the British. She did this in 1780, 77 years before the First War of Independence. Popularly known as ‘veeramangai’ (brave woman), she also devised the first recorded suicide bombing in history, with her Dalit commander-in-chief Kuyili.
Early Life
Born in 1730 to Raja Chellamuthu Vijayaragunatha Sethupathy and Rani Sakandimuthal, she was an only child. The royal couple thus raised her as they would have raised a male heir. She was trained in horse-riding, archery, and martial arts such as valari (throwing sickle) and silambam (fighting with a stick). She was also well-versed in several languages, including English, French, and Urdu.
SHE DEVISED THE FIRST RECORDED SUICIDE BOMBING IN HISTORY, WITH HER DALIT COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF KUYILI.
When she was 16, Velu Nachiyar was married to Muthuvadugananthur Udaiyathevar, the prince of Sivagangai. They had a daughter together called Vellachi, and ruled over the kingdom for over two decades – from 1750 to 1772, until the year that Mathuvadugananthur Udaiyathevar was killed by the British.
After the British invaded Sivagangai with the son of the Nawab of Arcot and killed Velu Nachiyar’s husband in what is known as the ‘Kalaiyar Koil War’, she was forced to flee her kingdom with her daughter. She found safe haven at Virupachi in Dindigul, and lived there for eight years under the sanctuary of Gopala Nayaker.
During her stay in Dindigul, Velu Nachiyar met Haider Ali, the Sultan and the then ruler of Mysore. She conversed with him in Urdu and highly impressed him with her courage and perseverance. This led to her garnering unwavering support not just from Gopala Nayaker, but also from Haider Ali, who pledged to be her ally in her fight against the British. He even built a temple inside his palace as a sign of their friendship.
She was invited by the Sultan to stay at the Dindigul fort where she was respected like the queen that she was. Haider Ali also provided her with a monthly financial support of 400 Pounds and 5000 infantry and cavalry troops each. All of that combined with the weapons provided by the Sultan, helped Velu Nachiyar assemble a powerful army to drive away the British.
The conquest Over The British
1780 was the year Velu Nachiyar bravely defeated the British in a brilliantly formulated coup. Her intelligence gathering agents found out where the British had stored their ammunition. A suicide attack was then devised to destroy all of it.
1780 WAS THE YEAR VELU NACHIYAR BRAVELY DEFEATED THE BRITISH IN A BRILLIANTLY FORMULATED COUP.
Kuyili, the commander-in-chief, gallantly volunteered to carry out the suicide mission. She doused herself in ghee and set herself on fire before jumping into the ammunition store, destroying every last bit of it. Kuyili is considered by many to be Velu Nachiyar’s adopted daughter, and is the first recorded suicide bomber in history.
Udaiyaal was also an adopted daughter of Velu Nachiyar. She too died in the battle against the British while blowing up their arsenal in another suicide attack. In her memory, the queen built an all-women army and named it after Udaiyaal.
Post War
After her victory over the British, Velu Nachiyar reigned over the Sivangangai kingdom for a decade. She made her daughter Vellachi heir to the throne. The Marudhu brothers, her fellow escapees from the Kalaiyar Koil War, were given administrative positions in the kingdom. To express her gratitude to Haider Ali for his immense and timely help, Velu Nachiyar constructed a mosque and church at Saragani. She further maintained friendly relations with Tipu Sultan, Haider Ali’s son, and loved him like a brother.
Vellachi, Velu Nachiyar’s daughter, succeeded her to the throne and ruled from 1790 to 1793.
The 66-year-old valiant queen passed away in 1796 in Sivagangai, her beloved kingdom. She had been suffering from heart problems and had been treated even in France.
The statue of Velu Nachiyar in Sivagangai, Tamil Nadu. Image Source: Daily Hunt
Appreciation And Depictions In Popular Culture
As part of his album ‘Tamilmatic’, Tamil-American hip-hop artist Professor A.L.I. dedicated to Velu Nachiyar a song titled ‘Our Queen’.
On December 31, 2008, a stamp was released in her remembrance.
A grand ballet performance was presented by OVM Dance Academy of Chennai. It narrated the life story of the lionhearted queen. Another grand ballet performance was held in Naradha Gana Sabha in Chennai. The director of the performance, Sriram Sharma, researched on her for about a decade.
The late J. Jayalalitha, former Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu, inaugurated the Veeramangai Velu Nachiyar Memorial in Sivagangai on 18th July, 2014. A six-feet bronze statue of the queen was also erected and it was announced that January 3 would be celebrated as the birth anniversary of the undaunted queen who shattered gender roles as early as the 18th century.
