Pondicherry


I always wanted to go to Pondicherry or Puducherry as it is known now, in search of what, I wouldn't know.  May be because of what I had heard from my friends all over the world. However, some said Pondicherry was just overrated. My college mate, Jeremy Rajah, whom I met on the flight to Chennai said, "You must go there. Think there is plenty of action." I didn't know what action he was referring to and didn't bother to ask him either.  Aditi Sriram’s book ‘Beyond the Boulevards - A short biography of Pondicherry’ I purchased at ‘The Book Shop’ in Jo Bargah, New Delhi, got me even more interested in visiting Puducherry. I made notes. I took Aditi’s book with me to Auroville in Tamil Nadu. I saw her book prominently displayed at Auroville bookshops. It was very popular, said Sophie, who managed a bookshop in Auroville. Pondicherry is just 15 km from Auroville.  I requested my friend Ravi to take me to Pondicherry. In a way, Ravi, too, was a bit negative. He said, "I will take you on my scooter and you find out for yourself. It is nothing much." 


I went there, on a Sunday evening, on an Auroville scooter. The journey was interesting. I was armed with Aditi’s book.  It looked to me that half of Pondicherry was owned by Sri Aurobindo ashram. The ash colour buildings in the city confirmed it. I wondered who owned the rest of the city. I agree with Aditi as she had written, "I am stuck by the nearly hundred year old immigration into Pondicherry can be explained in two words: Sri Aurobindo. This city – small, segregated, multicultural, Tamil, is also home to one of India’s best known and internationally recognizable ashrams. In existence since 1928, today it has about 2,000 members living in Pondicherry. Several buildings in White Town and others dotted throughout the rest of the city are Ashram properties, identified by the twelve-petalled flower carved into their gates and doors, or the photos of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, framed and hung visibly in the entrances of homes, hotel rooms and restaurants". 

It took us time to find a parking spot on a Sunday evening, even for a small scooter. I decided that beach and the promenade would do.  I walked along the beachside in crowded Pondi. I wasn’t much impressed. Cashew and almond ice cream cooled me down. It was one of the best just like the Cinnamon ice cream I tasted in Auroville. The Pondicherry Beach could have been cleaner, considering the ‘reputation’ it enjoyed the world over.  I enjoyed Podi Idly (small Idly) at ‘Cafe Udupi Ruchi' for the first time. It was a clean trendy place and the food delicious. I walked past the statues of Mahatma Gandhi and Nehru, Aditi described in her book. She writes "The first structure it encounters are the statutes on the beach: Gandhi in mid-strider, Nehru’s a few meters away, locked in a permanent staring contest with his colleague Joan of Arc with her back to the water and Governor Duplex’s likeness, papers in one arm, the other hand pointing  downwards as it in accusation."I was angry that some election notice had been placed near the Gandhi statue and a stage erected near the Nehru statue.  Aditi Sriram goes on to explain about the Promenade like this: "Further inland, daytime on Pondicherry’s Promenade reveals landscape of portraits. They are impassive stone buildings, maternal church idols, freshly whitewashed hotels, moustached ice-cream vendors, and a lighthouse that has been dark for over forty years. Some have distinctly European features, while others resemble Bourbon Street in New Orleans. Bougainvillea trees suggest a Latin influence, but the auto rickshaws, darting like bumblebees between them, ensure an Indian finish. Kolams scrawled like signatures in front of gates, show off a distinctly South Indian calligraphy. This portraitures has hybrid, tribrid origins" 

It was a good idea to have closed the main road, letting people wonder and wander, enjoying themselves. It gave the ordinary folks freedom of movement and freedom from blaring horns. I walked past Dr. Ambedkar Mandiram, Le Cafe, Arts and Craft sellers, Sunday markets or let’s say evening markets. There was nothing for me to buy from Pondicherry. Auroville was much ahead than Pondicherry and I did bet my money on Auroville. I saw people doing nothing because they had nothing else to do. There were plenty of seating areas for it. I couldn't stop laughing when a Pondicherry dog upset a Pondicherry policeman on a bike. The baffled policeman kept on turning. He even tried to challenge the dog. However, the dog wasn't a match for the cop. He gave up. The dog didn’t. 

I looked for Peroumals, Soubaraws, Aroumougams (Sorry My friend Freddy Arumugam) and Mouttoucomraswamy’s as mentioned in Aditi’s book. I couldn't find them during my short visit to

Pondicherry. Sriram described them as South Indian names dressed up in European vowels and accents. 

The city’s effort to preserve old buildings must be commended.  I saw many such buildings. I wanted to have a beer at a rooftop restaurant in Pondicherry and say "Cheers to Aditi" at sunset; I did just that.  Pondicherry looked a bit sexy at night. Not that I was drunk by Kingfisher, the king of good and the bad times. To me Auroville is far ahead. People, don’t listen to me. Do read Aditi Sriram's book. Because, that is Pondicherry or Puducherry today. Thank you, Aditi.

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