Community dwellings of Triplicane

When most people say Triplicane, the image that comes to mind is usually of the Parthasarathy temple, and to those more gastronomically inclined, Ratna Cafe.

But one would never guess Triplicane to be an architect's haven, especially not in an age when old buildings are being destroyed at such a rate. This is the story of the walk led by Thirupurasundari Sevvel, and her team from Nam Veedu, Nam Oor, Nam Kadhai, on the community dwellings of TRiplicane.

At 3pm one Sunday afternoon, I got to the Neelangarai bus stop, and boarded a 109 to the marina. Daek clouds loomed menacingly on the horizon, and over the North, so I gave Sundari a call, to check on the walk. She assured it me it would happen, if the rain, currently pouring in Triplciane, dies down. 

By the time I was at Santhome, the rain got to us, and by the time my stop came, it was pouring sheets, buckets, cats and dogs! I went into the bus shelter, and gave Sundari a call again, and told her my situation. She said I should make my way to the Parthasarathy temple, if possible, where they were taking shelter, and meet them there. I said ok, and stepped out into the storm. 

By the time 

I turned into Bharathiar Salai, and ducked under a tree for shade, my clothes and pouch where I was carrying my change(luckily all in coins) had become thoroughly soaked. I could hardly open my google maps, as each time i unlocked my phone, the rain would double tap on the menu button and open up Google assistant! 

I somehow made my way to the MRTS station of Triplicane, and asked a man there taking shelter directions to the Parthasarathy. Following them, and accompanied by vigorous thunder and pounding rains, I sloshed through ankle deep water (at points) and checking with some others on the way, got the temple, where I found Sundari, the team, and a few others, waiting for the rain to subside. Sundari looked very guilty when she saw me, and asked if I needed a towel. I said no, as I was drying off pretty quickly. 

They then produced some models of houses that would be covered, and proceeded to talk about them. I will be mentioning them as we reach stop, and not here. 

The first house we visited was the Golu veedu, a private owership house, which sells Golu items. The house itself is about 150 years old.



Stop 1:
Golu Veedu

As the name suggests, the house has very strong ties to Golu and Navarathri: It sells plastic and clay idols for the festival. An old mada veedhi house, it was used by a joint family, which has now turned it towards commercial purposes.
The ground floor is one big room, with a set of side rooms locked up. The  stairs are small and narrow, and lead to a large hall upstairs, which has a passage to the back, which connects it to rooms, where the owners currently live.
The roof is completely Madras Terrace, with Teak pillars supporting it, beautifully carved, and cement flooring.
-flashback-
By the time they had finished talking about the different houses we would be visiting, the rain had more or less died down. Sundari then mentioned that according to a Devaram, Triplicane really comes to life only when the lotuses on the temple tank glisten with rain, and the smell of the ground after rain(petrichor) fills your nose. This was the first time she had experience Triplicane in rain, after 8 years of working on restoring its cultural dwellings, and doing her thesis here! The small group(which grew as we walked) followed her out of the temple, while I ran to get my sandla which I had taken off on the other side. Then ran across the temple to join them.
Fast forward to the Golu veedu.
After this, as we left the house, Sundari pointed out a vacant plot, right next to the Golu veedu. This was one of the older houses in the area, demolished just last week. She, and all of us, were very upset about it.





Stop 2: Gomti bunglow: There is a narrow 'L' shaped lane off the mada veedi of Parthasarathy kovil. This lane has about 40 odd houses, with a total of 36 families. These people are proud of their 'bungalow'(actually a set of individual units with common walls, and a common area in the middle) for a couple of reasons: firstly because the land is owned not by a local owner, or the Triplicane temple, but by the Ayodhya mutt. This means their buildings cant be knocked down on a whim, and their rent is very low. 
Secondly because this is not a typical brahmin dwelling unit on a temple mada Veedhi. It houses all communties. They share two wells, and all the land between dwelling units.
This place is about 150 years old







Final stop: Bharathiar's house:

The freedom fighter Bharathi, whose songs and poems inspired the freedom struggle. lived his last years in namma Madras. He lived in what is now a large building, with a corridor running around an open central courtyard. The walls are full of his photos, writings, and things associated with him, He died when he went to receive the blessings of an elephant in musth in the nearby Parthasarthy kovil, and no, did not succumb to his injuries, but caught an illness which killed him.

BUT

According to Thirupurasundari Sevvel, the house was not totally his!

All along the corridors are interestingly caved pillars. These pillars would have had walls built between them according to the number of tenants(an there was also a first floor like this-now houses a library-). The landlord would have built it. Bharathi rented a 7ft by 8ft corner room, where he, his wife, sister in law, children and cow all lived, ate and slept.

The open area in the centre would have been common to all, with washing of clothes, and evening chatting, taking place around it.

With that we finished a walk that had one of the most interesting openings I've ever experienced. By the end of the walk, my clothes were still slightly damp, a talk afterwards at an A/C hall was all that was left for the day!

The Islamic heritage of Triplicane: A Ramzan walk led by Kombai Anwar

Ramzan walk: After hearing how amazing the last year's one had been, a few of us petitioned Kombai S Anwar to have a redoing of his walk that ended with an iftar meal.
So one day I see a post on my page: ramzan walk. If you are interested, contact Kombai Anwar. So I did.
Friday at 5:30 brought me to the Mohammedan public library on Wallajah road and triplicane high road junction. As I was greeting some of the other known faces in heritage, I suddenly got a call from an unknown number.
The voice on the other side said "Hello Nandan? Are you taking part in the ramzan walk? " I asked who this person was, and got to know that it was a friend of mine, Jhubal. He and his mother were on their way and wanted directions.
Soon everyone was ready and waiting. The Hindu reporter, the mylapore times camera man, the Man from The Mylapore Times: Vincent D Souza and the 65+ participants of the walk. All that was left was to wait for the walk leader.
Soon the leader of the expedition himself, Anwar, was there, and we began, with a brief introduction to the Mohammedan public library.

Stop 1: the Mohammedan public library, and the beginnings of the Arcot nawabs.
The library was built in 1850, under the patronage of the nawab of the Carnatic. The books here are priceless, some of them.
The Arcot nawabs began as a feudatory to Aurangazeb, in 1696. After aurangazebs death, they went for the last Hindu stronghold in the south, the Marathas of Gingee. A seige that ought to have taken a few months dragged on for 6 years, and after driving the Marathas out of their lands, (and a couple of nawabs later) a battle for succession broke out. During that battle, Anwar Uddin (father of Mohammed Ali, later known as Wallajah) was killed. He was buried in Hyderabad. Interestingly, he built one of the oldest mosques in Chennai, Masjid e Anwarruddin (more on that as stop 3). He was supported by the British. His son continued the battle with Chanda Sahib, who was backed by the French.
After a long battle for succession, broken into two parts,( the Carnatic wars), Mohammed Ali Wallajah was the definite nawab, crowned in 1749.
He moved the palace from Arcot to Madras, building the cheppauk palace along the beach, just south of fort st George. In doing so, he pushed the nawabs further into debt, borrowing from the British to build the palace. It now stands in an abject condition, but is under renovation and restoration.
As a part of the shift, he built the State Mosque here, the Wallajah mosque in the 1750's.
The mosque was completed in 1794, but unfortunately, he never got to enjoy it, as he died the next year.
Wallajahs wish was to be buried in Meccah, under the staircase. But he never got the chance. His body was interred for two years in the Dastagir Dargah which he had built (for two years,before being moved to Trichy). To be buried in the same Dargah where his rival and earlier claimant to the throne Chanda Sahib is also buried.
His successor was Umdat Ul Umrah, whose story was also told there, but for narratives sake
I shall keep it for when we get to stop 2.
Anwar also mentioned that we should look around at the local businesses, selling, books, perfumes, spices, and other things Islam related, and especially the roadside food stalls, preparing to serve at sundown.

Stop 2: Azeempet gate: The successor of the Arcot nawab Wallajah was Umrah. During his reign, the deal power behind the throne was his sister, Sultan Ul Nissa. There was an unspoken agreement between them that instead of his son becoming the next nawab, her son would inherit the title.

But on his deathbed in 1801, he pledged loyalty to his own son.
Furious, his sister planned a coup to overthrow him, but at the same time, the British decided to 'assist' the nawab, and entered the Cheppauk palace at night. When the nawab woke up, the empire was practically in the hands of the EIC.
They agreed to put a candidate of his choice on the throne, but imposed hefty restrictions on the boy. He was made to sign a treaty that put administration in the hands of the British, and it was during his reign that the currency minted by the company changed from kasu, fanam and pagoda to rupees, pies, dubs, and Anna's.

When Umrah died, he was taken in state from the Cheppauk palace to the Dastagir Sahib Dargah on Wallajah road, where his father lay for two years, before being taken to Trichy. Umrah was laid to rest here too before finally being interred in Trichy.
In her anger at her son being denied by his uncle, she didn't allow the denying uncles body to pass through her property, so the company broke open a back wall of the palace to take him to the state mosque, Wallajah mosque. To continue with the fate of the poor Sultan Ul Nissa, she was sent on a haj, and died in Basra, Syrian territory. The haj being the punishment for an attempted coup leader who was royalty. 

Ramzan heritage walk: Stop 3: Masjid E Anwari:

This mosque was built as one among thousands, by the father of Wallajah, as Triplicane's Jummah(Friday) mosque.

According to Anwar, a mosque need not be a strucure with a dome, and minarets, and all the inscriptions. It is just a place where people congregate, and pray together. Over time, the idea of a mosque has become what it is today; what is known as Islamic architecture.

There are five pillars of Islam:

One God and Mohammed is his prophet,
Make a haj pilgrimage once in your life,
Fasting during Ramzan,
Giving to the poor,
And pray five times a day.

Of these, the fifth was touched upon by Kombai S Anwar
If five times a day is not possible, at least once.
If even that is not doable, once a week is a must, on Friday's.
Everyone gets together in the local Jamma Masjid, and pray together.
That was the purpose served by this institution.
This early 18th century, simple building , built between 1744-46,(after the beginning of his reign, before the battle of Adayar) by its namesake, Nawab Anwar Ud Din. This simple structure has an open courtyard as soon as you enter, and is flanked by tall walls on all sides. Towards the back is an enclosed area.
At the end of Wallajah's rule, he built the Wallajah mosque, and made it the Jummah Masjid. But with Muslim population now rising in Chennai, both function as Jumma Masjid's.

Ramzan heritage walk: Stop 4: Wallajah mosque: 

Behind the previous stop, and down a narrow lane that leads off Triplicane high road lies the Wallajah mosque. The entrance is a small gateway, with a long path behind it. This pathway is used as a car parking. All around are apartment complexes. One building stands out: the Ottoman consulate, which was later a lodge, infamous for displaying a sign barring entry of Indians.This was the first Ottoman consulate in India, opened in the late 19th century by brothers.They were later fundamental in building a railway line that Lawrence of Arabia tried to blow up. This was later converted into a lodge for elite Ottomans and Englishmen.

Past this, we get to the mosque, as the sun is going down. Lights around and on the minarets are switched on, and the shamiana spread for Iftar glows yellow. We are asked to wash our feet in a long row of taps, at which you sit, and place your feet up and wash.
We are guided past the Dargah of Bahrul Umoon on our right, where the women are seated, and all men are taken to a side corridor of the mosque, just past the side door. Just inside, we see the most devoted starting prayers in groups and chanting, before the Muezzin gives the call to break fast. The architecture of the mosque, stone mostly, with a wooden ceiling, is exquisite, and for a thousand more words, I will let my photographs describe it for you.
And then, as we were seated on mats on the ground, a man from the Sindhi Hindu community came around with two plastic cups to serve. It has been the tradition, probably for the last ten years or so, for the Sindhi community to serve food at Iftar during Ramzan.
As the sun dipped lower, and the silky light of darkness fell, the chattering of children playing around on the nearby field behind us was heard. Vincent D'Souza took to organising the seating, and Jhubal and I sat and chatted as we waited for the voice of the Muezzin.
Meanwhile, the men continued to come around. First a Kanji in one plastic cup, and lime oorgai dropped to the bottom.
Then a sweet drink in the other platic cup. A GRT paper bag passed around with GRT promotional papers and dates. A bonda. A paper doggybag with two types of sweets.
As darkness spread its shadows over us, the muezzins call came loud and clear. Two lines, short and sweet. And then people stopped talking, even the animals stopped to listen. Even for those seconds the boys outside stopped their cricket.
And then everyone was quiet as they ate.

15 minutes later, another call, this time, a repetitive 'Allah', marked the end of the first pandal, and the clearing up of all empty vessels. The next group of people climbed the steps and waited to eat.

Near the Dargah we found Kombai S Anwar, talking about Islam, with another lady who had been with us on a similar walk in 2015, my first interaction with Anwar, and my third heritage walk ever.
Much more was discussed, but we moved on to the history of the Nawabs at that point.
The Dargah of the man we were standing at was so highly regarded by Wallajah that he was paid a salary of 1000 rupees.

The Wallajah mosque is called the state mosque because every Islamic state has a mosque which is built to be the best, in the city where the Nawab lives, and this was designated to be the state mosque of Arcot after Wallajah moved here.
Its minars are made out of gold, and the chronogram inside adds up to 1794, and the wording was designed by a Hindu.
In 1857 the Nawabi of Arcot had been annexed,and there remained only a poor descendant. This man was named the (titular)Prince of Arcot, with a few scattered lands after the English realised they needed the locals and their rulers on thieir side. The Prince of Arcot is one of the four Princely rulers who continues to be paid an annual Privy purse.

One of the graves inside the Wallajah mosque is of the founder of the IUML(Indian Union Muslim League) associated with the Quaid E Millath. Founded at Madras in 1948, at a meeting at the Rajaji hall during a meeting meant for dissolving the Muslim League, the leader died in the 1970s and is buried here.

After all these amazing facts, trivia, and the wonderful walk, we thanked Anwar, who said that if we had any doubts or questions, to contact him.
We left, our minds abuzz and our stomachs full, eagerly digesting all we had heard, seen and learnt that Friday evening.