Madras, a place where women found home, and freedom, says Kalpana Karunakaran

Chennai/Madras means a great deal to me and the older generations of women in my family. I have just written a book on my maternal grandmother, and ‘Madras’ is in the title of the book!

For my grandmother born in 1911, Madras meant the possibility of six precious years of school life. She studied at Lady Willingdon School on Marina Beach. And for my great-grandmother born in 1897, Madras was the city to which she escaped and where she lived apart from her husband, experiencing the relative freedom of city life and the heady atmosphere of the Freedom Movement for six years. My mother, born in 1939, was an active organiser of factory workers and a familiar face and name during the massive May Day rallies that the city witnessed in the 1970s and ‘80s.

I grew up in this city, which has remained my home all my life. My favourite memories of Madras life are cycling around the neighbourhood of Chetpet with my friends, learning to jostle my way through the peak-hour rush while carrying a heavy school bag in the PTC/MTC buses, and belting out ‘Namadu Nagaram Azhagu Nagaram Chennai Managaram’, composed as ode to Chennai by renowned music director M.B. Srinivasan, along with hundreds of schoolkids on a busy road somewhere sometime in 1984-85.