Madras Day special | Tales of Chennai's past and future

CHENNAI: Chennai is 385 years young today. How time has flown from serenity to the bustle. Yet, the city of emotions has retained its traditions in full glory. Here are six tales of voyages from yesteryear Madras and also about the Chennai of the future they would love to see

Lush green hues of Gemini

Where do I begin? 1955 Madras maybe. My grandfather’s house was on Cathedral Road, next to the Agri Horticultural Gardens, which was why it was named Garden View. A large mansion with trees all around. In fact, one can’t see the house from the road. There were only three or four more houses on Cathedral Road/ Edward Elliots Road, which is now Radhakrishnan Salai — those of TT Krishnamachari; SS Vasan, the film producer; Dr S Radhakrishnan, former President of India; actors Lalita, Padmini, Ragini; and Dr EV Srinivasan, the famous eye surgeon. The rest of the stretch from Gemini Circle to Marina Beach was pure forest! No Woodlands Drive-in, no Stella Maris College and no Music Academy. One could whiz through from Gemini to the beach in two minutes. Look at the stretch now!! Where has the forest vanished?

— PC Ramakrishna, 80, veteran thespian

A graduate ahead of her time

I came to Madras from Bhopal in 1936 when I was six. My schooling was in Sarada Vidyalaya in T Nagar, a Tamil medium until class eight, where I then moved to English medium up to class 11. I studied for two years intermediate at Queen Mary’s College. After getting married in 1947, I moved into a large joint family. All earning members contributed to the running of the house. My in-laws were strict disciplinarians and the rule was that neither one should be a lender or a borrower. There was so much harmony in the joint family system where respect for elders was most important. I feel sad that the togetherness and joy of living together, which includes tolerance and the ability to adjust has become a thing of the past. I wanted to study further for which my in-laws were supportive, but domestic pressure and taking care of my three children together with the responsibility of running a joint family did not allow me to pursue my higher studies. As luck would have it, with my desire still strong, I managed to do a correspondence course in BA Economics with Punjab University in Delhi which involved a lot of self-study. I got the degree in 1964. Our House was always open to friends and relatives. The front doors were never shut. Most of our family weddings were held at our house. Unthinkable for such things to happen in today’s time where one needs to fix appointments to go over to visit relatives or friends. We were living right opposite Panagal Park. Nalli, a big name and household name today was a small store selling Kanjeevaram pattu sarees. As my father-in-law was a well-known figure, people from Nalli would come home with bundles of sarees to select.

— Rajalakshmi Nagarajan, 94, graduate in Economics

Amma’s treat in Shanti Vihar

For me, life started in Chennai and is still in Chennai. It has seeped through my system. Sometimes, it feels like every corner speaks to me. It also speaks to me about my mother and her life back in the day. Luz signal, which is just 500 metres from our place now, back in the day, was a 15-20 minute ride from my childhood home in CPWD Quarters, Indira Nagar. Back in 1970, Luz visits meant only one thing- my amma’s treat in Shanti Vihar. Wow! Shanti Vihar was truly a name to reckon with in those days. So was their chole bhature. Shanti Vihar was easily reachable from Indira Nagar by bus. 19M would drop us right opposite. We just had to cross the road. The same 19M had a stop outside this complex, which would get us back home. But this had to be planned. Amma would come back from the office and take me there. Why not on Sundays though? You see, the charm of Shanti Vihar was in its Garden restaurant, which would be airy and beautiful only in the evenings. The bhaturas would be fried in an open set-up, fairly close to the garden. It was a beautiful sight to see those whitish large puris blowing up like balloons in the oil. And the smell was so tempting.

— Vidya Bhavani Suresh, 54, Bharatanatyam exponent & musicologist

Waste management for better times ahead

I am a millennial, and my views about Madras were shaped by my parents and are often tied to films. Whenever we explore the city now, my mom reminisces about her hostel being located opposite actor Prashanth’s house during her graduation. She fondly recalls fun-filled bus journeys in Madras whenever she hears songs like Urvashi Urvashi and Chennai Pattinam. To me, Madras is tall buildings and busy people. I wish I could experience the time when she would travel to Besant Nagar to buy bangles. These small tokens of love and gestures of happiness seem lost now, overshadowed by commercialisation and a focus on money. After watching the film Santhosh Subramaniam, she intrigued me with stories of travelling in a double-decker bus. Nowadays, stepping out, I see only congestion and traffic, and I don’t feel the essence of this city of emotions. The current generation should slow down a bit and savour the moment. In terms of infrastructure, we need to improve waste management and raise awareness about waste disposal. I long to feel the old charm of Madras. In the textile sector, customers are often manipulated into buying certain products. We need to reclaim the genuineness and accountability that once defined our city for a better future.

— S Varsha, 24, textile designer-founder, Paper Thundugal

Missing less traffic, good roads

I came to Madras when I was nine years old in search of a job and to earn a livelihood. It was a hard journey, but the city always blessed me with what I needed. I’ve seen the old buildings on Poonamallee High Road, which have now been turned into apartments. Back then, there were many trees on Mount Road, but now everything has vanished. The city is now like the America we once dreamed of. Madras has always been kind to people seeking a new life. I still remember my first few days in 1964, with no job and very little money. I used to buy tea for one paisa and spend the whole day searching for work. Nowadays, less traffic and good roads are missing. I wish we could go back to enjoy the slower-paced environment of Madras. Chennaiites remain the same, high in emotions and humanity.

— Balan, 68, retired bus driver

Street cricket, now just a nostalgia

Only the name has changed from Madras to Chennai in terms of development. Since globalisation began in 1991, India has become an open market and received global exposure. Like how a rose smells sweet even if it is called by another name, the development would have been the same if Chennai were still called Madras. Culturally speaking, I still believe that Chennai remains as conservative as Madras. Even now, we hear bhajans when we stroll through the streets of Mylapore during the month of Margazhi. With the trend of returning to roots, Gen Z is also very interested in delving deep into our culture and traditions in Chennai. The current Chennaiites embrace sakkarai pongal, molaga bajji, samosa, and chaat, while also enjoying their time at Domino’s and BBQs. We are a mix of both worlds. However, during my childhood, I used to play street cricket with my friends without the fear of vehicles. Now, the original concept of street cricket has vanished, and the current generation is missing out on that experience. If I had the chance to play in a deserted street like before, I would wholeheartedly take it to immerse myself in the nostalgic moments of Madras.

— A Raju, 58, Central Government employee