Chennai to Port Blair...

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27th September,

Chennai Central Station.

Great Indian Railways. The Train arrives in Chennai perfectly on time - 6.00 am. It never amazes me, the whole Indian Railways thing. Its like a nation in itself, and the stations its cities. As we come onto the Chennai Central platform, a new dawn is breaking in that city. People, ingeneous people still to wake up from their night's sleep, sleeping in proper beds - mattress, bedsheets, pillows, covers, mosquito net hitched up between adjacent station benches. Somewhere people wash up and brush their teeth, somewhere people are getting ready to start their day with boarding the train they must board. And over all the enormous gulf of people, like a steady stream, slow, langurous, moving in one (or predominantly one) direction, weaving, lurching, swinging. As i got on to the platform and joined that steady stream negotiating my way through the sleepers, the porters, the pull carts, the piles of suitcases, the sheer life and energy of that chaos hit me - the colours, the sounds, the smells, the overload of sensory elements. I sometimes miss that in antiseptic Kerala, though I am glad of the space it provides inside my head.

The autorickshaw scene in Chennai is an old familiar story, and as I moved out of the station trying to find out the best way to get to the airport, i was (of course) way laid by several auto drivers, each convinced that they would be just the right person to help me in my journey. 'Rs 300 madam...25 kilometers distance...'...one of them by mistake let slip 'madam...prepaid also Rs 275'...aha..so there is a prepaid operational at this hour of the morning...what could be more beautiful? This is a standard that I have learnt over all my travels in India - head for the prepaid, always, without fail...

The prepaid counter was not hard to find..a big board and a long queue as I exited from the station announced its postion. As I dragged my trolley backpack towards the queue, the rate for taking me to the airport started falling daramatically..almost like a falling auction...' Rs 250 madam...okay Rs 225...Pay Rs 200 madam - Prepaid Rs 175 already...'...I am bullish enough not to get hassled or hussled by all this...stick to the line, and refuse with big smiles is my motto...Finally, the prepaid charged me Rs2/ to give me a slip for Rs 165 to the airport, and a smiling autodriver took my bag off my hand and propelled me towards his auto 'madam...i told you...Rs 175, prepaid charge ;-)...you did not believe me....' dang i did not...unlike elsewhere, in Chennai you have to pay the fee directly to the autodrivers at arrival, which gives them one more chance to haggle with you. This guy atlast took Rs 180 off of me, even with me lecturing him about honest payments and stuff...but i guess when you are a traveller, these are all parts of the whole experience...

So I am in Chennai airport by 7.00 am in the morning and my plane does not leave till 10. I always find information regarding good toilets an important piece as that is to me the hardest part of travelling in India. In Chennai airport the best free toilets are in the second floor with restaurant. Its got a faucet and toilet paper and soap, and its clean. And i needed breakfast anyway. Limp dosas with old tasting chutney - not exactly what i had in my mind for Rs 85. As usual, at the table next door, the father is trying to negotiate a free breakfast from the staff for his extended family (mother, wife,3 kids - who are all busy taking snaps of each other) because their flight got delayed. The airlines official is patiently trying to explain to him that since this is a budget flight, such allowances are not applicable. I was not patient enought to hear the end of that conversation. By 8.00 am I know that my friend's flight seems to be okay, and its time for me to check in.

I made a ruckus at the counter about the cancelled flight and was told to send in a complain to Vijaya Mallya himself...hmmm...anyway, everything seems more or less on schedule here with me...andamans here i come...

A great cloud cover greeted me as we apprached Port Blair, while the old lady in my next seat lectured me about the sanctity of signs of marriage and why I was not wearing any. The fact that it is a state of mind is something which did not cut much ice with her. This is my usual experience. I don't fit into anyone's little boxes and everyone tries hard. But the cloud cover does not look very welcoming - oh my days of sunny beaches!

A slightly rocky landing and we are on the ground, and I switch on the mobile and then...Ingo's flight from Kolkata has been cancelled - engine trouble, so he comes only by tomorrow. First blow. Its pouring outside - second one. And then my hotel pick up is not there. The Hornbill's Nest people of the Andaman Tourism department had promised that there would be someone at their counter who would help us reach the hotel. We had booked the hotel over emails and paid a 25% advance for the accommodation - it was a hugely affordable Rs 800 inclusive of everything for a double A/C room, and it was supposed to be right on top of the only beach in Port Blair - Corbyn's Cove. It had looked absolutely perfect. But how do I get there?

The counter is right there with all the hotels advertised. But no one there. There is an incredible India counter next to it, manned (or rather womanned) and they tell me from there, that no one would be there at this counter. So much for my hotel drop. I go out and scout for a conveyance. Taxis and autos clamour. There seems to be no prepaid counter here other than the 'Akbar Taxis' which I consider to be a sheer rip off. No prepaid autos too. I found that both the autowallahs and the Taxi wallahs wanted Rs 150 to take me to the hotel. One Taxi driver was quite helpful, and something about him worked for me, and I asked him to take me to the hotel.

Okay, this really seems like out of everything, we keep on going and the population and habitation thins out on either sides of the road. Soon we are near the sea and i reach the hotel - a completely deserted place perched on top of a cliff overlooking the sea. And yes, when i say completely deserted i mean completely. I was their only guest! Now this takes a bit of stomaching. Don't get me wrong - the staff seemed to be friendly enough, and the view was breathtaking and the room a steal for Rs 800. If i had one more person with me, I would not have thought twice about staying there. But it really felt out of everything and with all the upsets since morning (it was still pouring), being stuck all alone at night in a resort where the cook was being specially called from his home to prepare lunch for me was a bit much to digest. I needed a regular place - people, room service.

My taxi driver had given me his number incase i wanted him for anything - a friendly soul who had also offered me to give a tour around Port Blair - Cellular Jail and all, and dinner and then back to the hotel for Rs350. And i wanted to get out of here to where more people where. So I called him and he came and picked me up. The first bright spot in the day was the lunch. The driver took me to the main market - Aberdeen Market, and dropped me off at Anand Hotel for lunch. A busy place is always a good sign, and god this place was busy. I was ushered into the Family A/C area and there I got the first introduction to the fact that I was very much at home here. For guess what Anand was? A typical bengali restaurant with bengali waiters and everything. A chilli fish and fried rice costed me Rs 90 and it was some of the best fish I was going to have over the next few days. I got chatting with the waiter - they have been in Port Blair for the last two generations, and have seen a lot of Bengali tourists pass by. But their main clientele was still the locals who where wolving down plates of lunch - fish curry, vegetables, rice, daal and chapathi in very very large quantities in the non/ airconditioned space all for Rs 40.

After the lunch I asked the Taxi driver to take me to some other hotel, and he took me to Sun Sea Resorts - just a stone's throw from the Main Market. I already liked the look of it. The lobby full of people - men, women and children, and a friendly reception. What does a room cost here? Rs 1100. I wasn't bargaining. I checked the room, neat clean and tidy, if a little small - but I was alone and it would do very well. I booked it and then left for the Prison, which was on the highest agenda.

I have grown up hearing tales of the Cellular Jail. My Grandfather, incarcerated here because of his involvement in the Alipore Bomb Case, was a steady topic of conversation on my growing up table. I remember very little of him, but everyone said that his mind was gone due to the excruciating torture in this prison. I had to go meet him once. The prison entrance was a forbidding site, and the entry fee was Rs 5/- and another Rs 10/- for the camera. Okay, I did not have change. One thing which is constantly amazing me here is how easy going people are. They were all ready to wave me through inside with just a promise of payment, or my driver was willing to pay up for me. Money seemed to be one of casual exchange. I like that about this place already. Anyway, suddenly the ticket counter person had my requisite change so I did pay for my ticket. And now do i need a guide? Usually I am one who just avoids all such things - i like to take things at my pace and thats never possible with a guide. But i guess i was craving for some conversation, some human contact and the young guy who stood in front of me with eager friendly eyes seemed to be awfully nice. So yes, i would have a guide.

The first thing was the freedom fighter's gallery, and i could not find him. My guide, Venkat propelled me to a different corner upon questioning - here you are...and there he was - a gaunt emaciated face, with hollow cheek bones...faded black and white photograph. I did not expect to cry, but it was strangely poignant a moment for me, and i had to blink away my tears. Then my guide took me through the prison. It seemed strange to walk around in a space where men once used to perpetuate such horrors on other men. To walk about amongst the oil extraction machines, the gallows, the coir making spin, the hard labour areas and the punishment areas. These jailers used to take their business seriosuly and the sheer mindless professionalism of the whole shindig was numbing. The star of this prison was of course Veer Savarkar, and he had the cell right on top of the gallows giving him ringside view of the cruelty. The gallows were positioned in such a way that it got an easy exit to the sea. So a cool clean job for disposing the bodies. I have a little bit of a problem with recognising Veer Savarkar as a star - in my mind he is inexplicably and intricately linked with the Mahatma's assasination. But no doubt he must have been a towering figure as a revolutionary with his firebrand patriotism and nationalism. I am always suspicious of any kind of extravagant emotion. Of course this was not a place to think of all that. Here patriotism and nationalism were high emotions which allowed human beings to reach the highest points of nobility.

The one thing that always strikes me about any kinds of museums in India is the sorry state of the display. Here too, they had so much of stuff and everything was done so badly. The writings, the script, the graphics, the lighting, the all of it. Ufff! But i don't want to go on a tirade ove that here. Thats pretty much a standard situation here in all museums - bureucracy and a lack of imagination. The view from the top of the central tower was a stunner.
The guide Venkat proved to be quite worth the Rs100 I paid. Full of interesting stories and anecdotes, different points of history and non-history, folk lore and local legends - a thoroughly colourful time was had by all. I was happy that I had a last minute inspiration not to share him with another group of a family with kids. I doubt if he would have opened up like that in that large group. And the fact that I went with him alone, made him extremely thoughtful towards me, and soon we were chatting like a couple of friends. Oh did i tell you guys that people here were really so friendly?

So since morning I have met a Tamilian (my taxi driver), many bengalis and Venkat, an Andhraite. I was getting a clue to the whole population demographics. It seemed that all the doctors, lawyers, chartered accountants, hotels were all Bong establishments. And the lower economic stratas were made of south Indian immigrants. I was yet to meet a mainstreamed tribal, but I have heard that they exist. But evidence of the tribal culture was everywhere, and seemed quite a selling point for tourism. I am terribly ideologically conflicted at that point, but i did want to check out the anthropological museum. The other thing was of course the much talked about sound and light show at the prison. As luck would have it, it was raining (yes, the whole bloody time), and so the show was cancelled.

With my friendly driver I made the trek to never never land and checked out of Hornbill's Nest. The casual attitude that the people had over money struck me again as I was settling the bill. Again I had no change, and they did not too. So 'just give the money to the driver and he would come and give it to us'...settled the matter for then. The driver drove me to Sun Sea, and by that time I was so exhausted, that i just packed up into my room and crashed.

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Photos

My Grandfather and me
Cellular Jail freedom fighter's gallery

Comments

[milanth gautham]

Request from BBC Worldwide India
Dear Sir, This is a request for permissions to use the image of Moplah Rebellion Prisoners from your blog “Chennai to Port Blair…” in Epic Ke Dus. Epic Ke Dus is a history-based series produced by BBC Worldwide for Epic Channel (Epic Television Networks). This documentary-feature series presents definitive lists of the people, moments and stories that have contributed to India as we know it today. It covers the most iconic faces, incidents and relationships in Indian history, across different categories. Season 1 of this series, which aired in November 2013 included topics like ‘India’s Greatest Warriors’, India’s Most Powerful Women’ and ‘India’s Greatest Thinkers’, to name a few. The next edition will include very interesting themes like India’s Top 10 Love Stories, India’s Top 10 Real Life Villains, etc. As visual support for this series, we are interested in using the above mentioned image. Please do let me know how we can go about acquiring the high-resolution footage as well as official permissions to use the same, with due credit/courtesy given to you, of course. We would ideally require HD images, but if that is unavailable, do let us know what is the best possible resolution we might be able to get. Look forward to hearing from you! Milanth Gautham BBC Worldwide India [e-mail] [phone]