Pondicherry: A Calm Bustle
Welcome to Pondicherry, officially Puducherry since September 2006, the erstwhile French Colony, lapped and warmed by the Bay of Bengal. We travel 135 km from Chennai on the scenic East Coast Road, to enter this French Riviera of the East, or Quintessence of French Culture, just as the sun rises, a gentle wash of colour, above the horizon. We enter the capital city of the Union of Pondicherry, Pondy as it is nicknamed by the locals, via its most vibrant and picturesque area, the 2 km long Beach road or Goubert Avenue. A tall statue of the Mahatma in his characteristic brisk mid-stride greets us even as we hear other very welcoming sounds in the symphony of waves as the sea gently lashes its azure blue waters on the jagged rocks, creating a fluff of white in its wake. Joggers, walkers, even hawkers are out there, silhouetted against the seafront, following their routine pursuits, with a certain sense of quietitude to allow those sitting in meditation, the silence they seek!
No sooner do we enter Pondy, we realize that the city is not about time! It is a lifestyle that is leisurely, charming in a lazy way, sensuously and spiritually close to nature. The setting is picture perfect as a cool Christmas breeze wafts through this Mini France in India where we notice that bicycles enjoy the run of the roads. As we leisurely, no, even lazily amble along the promenade overlooking the Bengal waters, we come upon the imposing statue of the legendary French Governor, Marquis Joseph Francois Dupleix, Pondy’s ablest governor. Then there is the statue of Mahatma Gandhi, surrounded by eight exquisitely carved pillars, supposedly brought from the fort town of Ginghee, about 70 km from Pondy. Mairie or the Municipality Office, the French War Memorial paying homage to the martyrs of the First World War, the Church of Our Lady of the Angels, a statue of Joan of Arc and an abandoned lighthouse on the edge of the sea, are some of the exquisite and stylish buildings we come across on this avenue. The War Memorial, we learn gets illuminated on Bastille Day, 14th July during the annual commemoration.
Night on the Pondy Beach
That Pondy enjoys a generous whiff of its glorious French past is at once evident as we stroll along Goubert Avenue. The French flavour, their penchant for order and flair is palpable in the well planned grid-patterned town where ramrod straight roads cut each other at right angles and divide it into neat sectors. The grand colonial mansions with arched doorways, hipped roofs and flared eaves unmistakably bespeak the French connection that Pondy enjoyed for over two centuries. There are yet the other tell-tale signs of their influence in the long compound walls from which foliaceous bougainvillea drape down artistically, the majestic tree-lined boulevards, serene promenades, spellings on sign boards, and not least in the traffic policemen’s attire, especially their red caps.
In fact what is today known as the UT of Pondy is made up of 4 non-continuous, widely dispersed regions that were all ruled by the French until as recently as 1954 – the K city of Pondy, Karaikal, Yanam in AP and Mahe on the Malabar coast. Pondy covers a total land area of 492 SqKm with a population of about 1 lakh people, a third of who are Tamils. Pondy is about a tiny fishing and weaving village that was transformed into a grand port city around the 18th century. It is about sieges, ravages, battles, brave generals, royalty and philanthropic courtesans, about coming under the sway of the Cholas, Pallavas, Pandiyas, Muslims, Dutch, Danes, French and the English. It is about having been a haven for several of India’s most wanted freedom fighters pursued by the Raj, including Sri Aurobindo.
According to excavations made at Arikamedu, 7 km from Pondicherry, the Romans, perhaps were Pondy’s earliest settlers, 2000 years ago. Legend and mythology claim that Pondicherry was once a major Vedic centre called Vedapuri when the Hindu sage Agasthya who introduced the Vedas to South India, inhabited the region. Till the period of the Cholas in the 10th and 11th centuries, Pondy was actively engaged in trade, of textiles, with Rome and Greece.
Botanical Gardens
No matter its historical records, we observe that Pondicherry is a salad bowl of exemplary architectural expression, reflecting several styles at once. Even today the city retains the flavours of its two-millennia old Tamil past in Ville Noire, the Black Town and its 300 year old Gallic splendour and heritage in Ville Blanche the White Town. Particularly stark in difference are the streetscapes and housing styles of the twin cultures. And this distinction, is sudden and dramatic: the bustling streets, the heady fragrance of jasmines mixed with the aroma of brewing sambar, open verandahs wherein take place animated conversations on a host of subjects ranging from politics to the inane one the one side; the quiet leafy boulevards with towering cathedrals, and restaurants serving Creoles, crepes, coq au vin, and the like. However, Rues or signboards denoting roads are common to both sides, as in Rue Subbaraya Chetty, Rue Francois Martin. Though the town plan of Pondy is attributed to the French, history records that the oval town divided into Tamil and French segments, was actually a Dutch design upon which the French built the city.
The landscape of Pondicherry with its neighbourhood is dotted with over 350 places of worship of all sizes and faith – from temples to churches to mosques. Our Lady of Immaculate Conception, the Cathedral on Mission Street, popularly called Samba Kovil by the locals, a phonetic corruption of San Paulo, with 300 years of history, is actually the fourth church erected on Cathedral structures that were demolished or destroyed, first by the Dutch and then by the British. Now simply called Immaculate Conception Cathedral, the church is modeled on the Church of Val De Grace, the chapel of the famous military hospital in Paris. A few furlongs away from the Aurobindo Ashram is the Manakkul Vinayak Temple. It displays several ancient idols of Ganesha in varied forms, procured from a few South East Asian countries. The temple is stunning for this sheer collection of awe-inspiring sculptures. The Sacred Heart Church with its stained glass work is another must-see while in Pondy.
Inviting waters
At one of the perpendiculars to Goubert Avenue, we come upon the world renowned, Aurobindo Ashram. It was founded in the year 1926, by Sri Aurobindo, a revolutionary turned philosopher from Bengal, along with his disciple, The Mother, Mirra Alfassa, a French painter and sculptor of Egyptian descent. The Samadhi of teacher and disciple at the central courtyard of the main ashram is a simple marble tomb festooned with fresh flowers under the frangipani tree. The Ashram, we learn produces a range of bio-friendly products including handmade paper.
The Bharati Park, modeled on the French urban gardens, lies at the heart of the administrative district of Pondy. Its periphery is fenced with black iron railings and it boasts four grand gateways and period lamp posts reminiscent of Paris’s Monceau Park. The pure white Aayi mandapan, bang in the middle of the Bharati Park, the emblem of the Government of Pondicherry was earlier called La Place du Panthéon built in Greco-Roman architectural style, during the reign of the French Emperor, Napoleon III. The 19thC monument has been named after a 6thC courtesan by the name. The story goes thus: King Deva Raja (1509 – 1530) during one of his visit to Pondichery, passed what he thought was an illuminated shrine from the wafting sandalwood incense that emanated from it. He stopped to offer prayers. However, a passerby informed him that this was the home of a courtesan by name Aayi. Infuriated at his blunder, he ordered the house to be razed and a tank built in its place. Aayi begged the king’s forgiveness and undertook to built the tank herself. 100 years later the city faced a grave water shortage. By this time, the French reign had begun in Pondy and Napoleon III stepped in to solve the problem and engaged an engineer, Monsieur Lamairesse to restructure the tank. Thus Aayikulam was born, fed by a canal from the original tank area to the area where Bharati Park lies today. Napoleon further ordered a monument to be erected in Aayi’s honour in the Park centre. Thanks to the work of light designer Noel Le Rich, the Mandap comes aglow as the sun repairs for the day at dusk.
Seacoast Road
Pondy’s Botanical Garden established by C.S. Perrotet in 1826, is another must-see while in the city. A vast and verdant tract of garden, it preserves a large variety of exotic species of plants from all over India and abroad.
A trip to Pondicherry would be incomplete without a visit to Auroville, 10 km away. This City of Dawn, is a township unto itself. Along with Matri Mandir within its luxuriant sprawl, Auroville is a haven of peace and harmony, inhabited by over 1500 people from across 30 countries of the world. Founded by The Mother, Auroville was designed by French architect, Roger Anger. A third of Auroville’s populace are community people, the remaining being agriculturists. A serene, yet bustling ambience prevails at Auroville where the natives are harmoniously engaged in activities aimed at remaining as close to nature as possible, with afforestation, organic culture and educational research aimed at maintaining ecological balance.
The Matri Mandir is a massive golden globe, a mediation centre that enshrines in light and glass, within its interior, an abstract representation of the Mother’s concept of spirituality. The amphitheatre holds aloft the Urn of Human Unity containing the soil of 121 nations and 23 Indian states.
For shoppaholics Pondicherry is a veritable paradise covering an amazing range of wares from traditional handicrafts, palm leaf articles, aromatic and artistically crafted candles, semi-precious stones, silverware, hand-made incense, hand-printed textiles, hand-woven carpets, papier mache idols and toys, wooden carvings, mats woven from a special species of grass, and leather goods.
Here I am soaking in the calm radiance of the tranquil, yet bustling town, absorbing the place through every pore. It is close to twilight; a study rock, few yards away from the sea serves as my perch. I allow the salty waters of the sea to gently brush my being. I am lulled by the whispering waves which assume a rowdy roar as they hit against the rock-strewn shoreline. Far away, I see the faint haze of a ship, rolling along the placid waters of the mid-sea, inching perhaps, to anchor at its destination. Santa Claus is out there, a veritable pied piper for the moment, entertaining his fans, bang in the middle of Goubert. A band follows him, playing carols. There is cheer and bonhomie that is all-pervading. Silence and serenity seem to hold hands with gaiety and celebrations, a fact that one has to feel, and sense, to believe! I remain mesmerized by my environs, and watch the balmy sea as it takes on a dark hue, and continues to sing its ceaseless and unique masterpiece. It is well past midnight, before I bid adieu to this bewitching city that I would yet again say is a bustle in the midst of quieting calm.
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