CHENNAI: There is a certain charm in documenting stories of people and how they lived, the friends they made, the games they played and much more. It takes you back in time, and makes people feel relatable and many larger-than-life personas almost human.
When I started documenting the childhood of many known faces of Chennai, I was unsure what to expect. Of course, since I work on reviving traditional games, I was keen to guide the conversation into childhood games and play and I was not disappointed because what followed was an interesting assortment of games, play, songs, funny rules, and much more. However, what was a bonus was the almost endearing innocence of the memories that were recounted.
For example, Sriram Venkatakrishnan, a well-known historian, talked about how he hated sports day and sports class because he was bad at it and would often fake an upset stomach. It can sound almost amusing to those of us who used the same excuse to get out of Maths, Chemistry, and more, but revelled on the sports field yet that endearing innocence of a young boy who was terrified of sports, makes us want to go “Awww” while bringing a smile to our face.
Similarly, RU Srinivas, a corporate professional who took a break from the corporate world to create a startup called The Idli Factory, talks about his time spent in CIT Nagar, just off Anna Salai, not to be mixed with the CIT Colony he is quick to add. He talks about how they virtually lived on the roads, because there was no traffic, merely four cars a day. Interestingly, he went on to sell that same property because he said it took him a long time to merely cross the road. Such a stark contrast to today and changing landscape of Chennai!
I could well relate to that memory, because I remember playing just off Lattice Bridge Road in Adyar and running across the road to pick up a ball — a road you would have to take a deep breath to simply have the courage to cross in full traffic flow today. Srinivas also relates how much time was spent on the trees — the mango tree, the guava tree, the gooseberry tree and how they would just give the fruit a quick rub on what was probably a very grubby shirt. He also recollects visiting his neighbour, not by entering through the front door or gate, but by jumping over the wall or climbing the tree to go straight to the first floor, which was always open.
Sadly, children of today grow up in large apartment complexes in the sprawling urban jungle, and see a few trees, let alone climb them. Srinivas also recalls the pleasure of playing on the beach and bringing home truckloads of sand, and nobody really worrying about how dirty the car was after that. He also recollects just dropping in on friends — a luxury that he feels children don’t have today. Sikkil Gurucharan, the iconic musician, shares similar memories. He talks about how he would walk down the cul-de-sac and scream out to his friend to ask him if he could come to play. He admits that he could not scream like that now, because he would be worried about straining his voice. He does wonder though how much it could have annoyed the parents to have this young boy coming and screaming outside their door, merely to find out if their son had time to play. But it didn’t matter. People took it all as a part of life. These memories are absolutely necessary to be documented because they speak of the changing social, cultural and very physical landscape of our city. This is part of our social history — one we will never find in books.
I also had the absolute pleasure of interviewing Ramanathan Krishnan and Ramesh Krishnan — two leading tennis players, from Chennai, who perhaps first put India on the global map of the sport. It was a father-son conversation which was delightful in itself and Ramesh was quick to reiterate the fact that there was so much time spent living on the streets. He also said that you knew your neighbours and were in and out of their houses all day whereas today, you barely know them.
But it was not just about the social, cultural landscape that we talked about. Funny memories, humorous ones were also part of the conversations. Ramanathan Krishnan recalls a time when he used to play carrom and used to get beaten by a girl and teased mercilessly by all his friends. I wonder if when he came to the semifinals of the Wimbledon and the headlines in India were about him if that young girl recollected beating him at carrom. We may never know the answer, but I would like to think that perhaps she did and smile to herself with a sense of glee.
Padma Srinath, a renowned teacher and a specialist in early childhood learning, talks about how she lived in a compound with other families and one elderly gentleman who was universally called thatha (grandfather). Thatha, she said, had a rooster and the children would try to chase it, who would hide behind thatha. She remembers how when the rooster died, thatha had a “right royal funeral” for the rooster and all of the children had to come offer a flower and express gratitude. Through this experience, she said they not only learned about loss, but also to show gratitude for those who had lived.
Other humorous memories were very much a part of these conversations. Indira Parthasarathy, an 87-year-old grandma, recollects the time when as a child and a tomboy she was playing cricket in her house and the ball broke a light bulb and everyone started shouting. Its memory brings a mischievous gleam to her eye and a laugh to her voice.
Prabha Sridevan, a retired Justice of the Madras High Court, had a lively conversation with her sister Dr Sita Sundar Ram, a Sanskrit scholar. Their charming recounting of the games they played and their hilarious chanting of Oh Onaru Dunaru Dakara Dun — a nonsense rhyme from their childhood was absolutely delightful and it was so hard keeping a straight face and believing that you were in the presence of two very accomplished women!
These happy memories are those that give us a sense of fun, something to smile about even with the chips are down and life throws all it has at you. If you would like to share your memories with us, do reach out to me on vinita@kreedagames.com. We would love to hear from you.
To capture these delightful video interviews, do check out our YouTube channel https://www.youtube.com/@Kreeda_Games/featured and enjoy the Memories and Madras playlist or simply scan the QR code.