It is a bamboo basket
small and cute
set in yellow and red
a lovely blend
used in occasions auspicious
thought to bring wealth
prosperity and a lineage
by a small trading community
down south of India
known for its artefacts
and architecture
They live in sprawling mansions
with a modest appendage
saving and spending little
giving a part of their revenue
to temples and charity
a munificence little known.
The basket in talk
is one of their many
cherished handicrafts
simple and less expensive
while their gold, diamond
jewellery look amazing
their silver articles excel in
workmanship and beauty.
Like the basket ordinary
the people apparently are simple
soft and strong in accounts.
The rich heritage is
waning like the moon
where modern trend
has taken its toll
Tag: Munificence
It is a grand place forsaken ,
Countered by hot and arid weather,
A glimpse of the ruins lying in mounds,
Grips the heart to an untold melancholic sound..
The ornate and frescoes lay exposed,
Scorching sun and dusty wind damage,
Intermittent rains and unmindful use destroy,
The massive structures look weird and poor like a broken toy.
The lovely porches and patios,
Once avenues of hospitality and gaiety
Stand as remnants of past glory,
Covered with mites and insects in a hurry.
The courtyards long and extensive,
Once a hotspot of revelry and weddings,
Remain as ghosts of their self in hay days,
Encouraging a growth of moss and shrubs in a lay.
The doors with elaborate designs,
Speak volumes of the happenings ,
Now stay shut under lock and key,
Effacing the memories of the mighty deed in a flee.
The huge heavy gigantic keys,
Made a clatter while opening the doors,
Now rarely seen as there are none,
Wishing to get in and out for fun.
The pillars of wood and stone,
Exhibit colours blue ,brown and black,
Seem to talk about the rich heritage,
In a tone mild succumbing to the ravage.
The locked mansions remain in dark,
They hold large wealth behind the doors,
Enticing the thugs to loot the bounty
Leaving the rightful owner in penury.
The land is a home to philanthropists
Its speciality is food and culture,
The marvellous relics are now ruins,
Casting a disenchantment and despair fluent.
Categories
A little bird with large wings
Does it sound odd?
How can a little bird have large wings?
If it has ,then it is a peculiarity, an oddity,and an irregularity.
This caption depicts a community.shelved in far south of South India.
Well, coming to the subject, let me put in black and white the community’s name.
They are called Nagarathars. or rather popularly as Nattukottai chettiars.
They are small in number, but gigantic in their deeds.
They are less than a hundred thousand.
The chettiars are a composition of tradition and modernity.
Their contribution to religion ,and education is enormous.
Most of the temples in Taminadu had been renovated by them.
They have two universities, Annamalai,and Alagappa.
The other Thiagarajar is in the offing.
The famous Meenakshi amman temple’s North Tower was built by the Vainagaram family.
These are all but few examples of their munificence.
Coming to the more mundane things,this clan is offbeat.
Their recipies are mouth watery.
The variety in their menu will dwarf the sophsticated hotels input .
The houses, better palaces ,are simply beautiful.
Beautiful is a very relative word to portray their grandeur.
The doors with innate frescoes are of BurmaTeak.
The mirrors are from Belgium.
The tiles and fixtures are from Italy.
The halls are bigger than a banquet hall.
The raised platforms on either side of the entrance provides a cosy sitting for the guests.
The central part is open to the sky.
On four sides of thecentral portion runs a broad passage along which we find the private rooms .
This is followed by a massive dining hall.
The rear portion has kitchens and store.
In most houses the first floor is a repetition of the ground floor.
These people were sea faring too.
They had set sail to Burma, Ceylon, Malaysia, Singapore,Saigon and Indo china.
There they had invested in rice fields , plantation real estates and money lending.
Their jewellery is a work of art.
Their collection of diamonds, rubies, emeralds,gold and silver is breathtaking.
Their accounting is extremely nostalgic.
They were faster than modern calculators.
Their memory was awesome. It was like a hard drive that is found in computers.
Their money transaction were similar to the modern banking system.
They were perhaps more systematic,more genial.
Modern chettiars are replicas of their forefathers.
My metaphor relates to this small community with large connections.
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