A visit to The Bangala: The lost world of the Chettiars

In the rich and varied history of the Indian subcontinent stretching back millennia, few of the empires, kingdoms, and ruling classes that populated its pages ventured overseas. Perhaps it was because of the vast size of the subcontinent, which offered immense opportunities domestically for exploration, conquest, and commerce, without the need to venture very far. Maybe it was the formidable icy heights of the Himalayas to the north and the deep oceans to the east, west, and south of the subcontinent that discouraged travel. Perhaps it was the religious injunction forbidding Hindus from crossing the kaala pani (black water) and thereby polluting their caste and culture through contact with the uncivilized peoples of foreign lands. Whatever the reason, few Indians set sail for distant shores.

However, two notable exceptions to this can be found in the same part of the deep south of India in what is now known as the state of Tamil Nadu. First came the great Chola empire, which expanded overseas under the reign of Rajendra I from 1025 onwards. The emperor’s armies conquered Sri Lanka, the Andamans, and large parts of Southeast Asia, including the islands of Sumatra, Java, and Bali, and the southern part of the Malay peninsula. Much later on, from 1830 onwards, but following broadly in the footsteps of the Chola armies, the trading community of the Chettiars, who hailed from Karaikudi and its surrounding villages, began their migration in search of money-lending opportunities in Southeast Asia where the commercial production of tea, rice, rubber, and tin was expanding rapidly.

The Bangala: A ideal location for exploring Chettinad

The best place to stay in Karaikudi is still The Bangala, a pioneering heritage enterprise that paved the way for an exploration of Chettinad. It is still run by the same Chettiyar family that first owned it. We drove for seven hours down from Chennai on good roads, and it was early evening by the time we entered the iron gates of this iconic homestay, and were immediately transported back a century to the colonial era. This heritage building started its life as a private gentleman’s club owned by the locally prominent MSMM family where they entertained their business guests, including officials from the Madras Presidency, before it was converted into a boutique homestay in 1998. We were charmed by the beautifully kept gardens, spacious rooms with old-style furniture, extensive verandas shaded by green chick blinds, and black and white photographs of days gone by. I loved relaxing in the large swimming pool, surrounded by lush greenery shot through by the striking red and yellow colours of the heliconia. It brought back vivid memories of my boyhood days when my father presided over a similar complex as general manager of Burmah-Shell in Raipur in what was then undivided Madhya Pradesh.

Unquestionably though the piece de resistance of our stay at The Bangala was the exquisite Chettinad cooking, renowned throughout India and now winning accolades across the world. Meals are served in a communal dining hall, open to the garden, and eaten from a banana leaf with one’s hands. And what meals these were! An endless stream of Chettinad delicacies emerged from the kitchen, to be ladled with loving care onto our banana leaf plates by Arun Selvam, the affable chief steward, till we were stuffed to the gills.

Describing what we ate would take another blog entry, but of the assorted kuzhambus (soup), poriyals (sauteed vegetables), rasams (soup of spices),and pachadis (fresh pickle),I remember in particular the mouth-watering Chettinad pepper prawns, the banana flower vadai, the beetroot pickle, and the pineapple rasam. No wonder The Bangala’s kitchen makes it regularly to Conde Nast Traveller’s Top Ten list of Indian restaurants. And if you want to delve further into the mysteries of Chettinad cuisine, The Bangala offers a weeklong masterclass where you can watch their fabled chefs work their magic and learn from them all about the unique ingredients, spices, techniques, and utensils involved.

The Chettiar mansions: Testimony to their lost glory

The Nattukottai Chettiars, a caste of mercantile bankers, migrated from Naganadu, near Kanchipuram, to and settled in Chettinad in the mid-nineteenth century. Chettinad then comprised 73 villages and two towns, Devakottai and Karaikudi, located in the districts of Sivaganga and Pudukkottai. Like their Marwari counterparts in the north, they closely aligned themselves to the interests of their British masters and prospered under the umbrella of protection and political stability afforded by them. As an economic power, the Chettiars have long faded into oblivion, but in their old empty mansions dotted throughout Karaikudi, they have left behind lasting testaments to their once-great opulence and wealth.

We visited a few of these ancestral homes and were awed by the grandeur of the halls and courtyards, filled with artefacts and fittings brought from every corner of the world – pillars of Burma teak, floors of Italian marble, and interiors embellished with Spanish tiles and Belgian glass. The basic floor plan consisted of an outside thinnai (veranda) for guests; an interior courtyard to be used for ceremonies; a series of small double rooms opening off the main courtyard, for storage, prayer, and sleeping; and a small courtyard behind for cooking and for the women to socialize. They reminded me strongly of the now abandoned Marwari havelis of Shekhawati, in Rajasthan, ghost buildings of a bygone era now presided over by solitary caretakers.

The Ayyanar temples: A discovery that surprises and delights

Venture further afield into the Chettinad countryside and you will be rewarded by some amazing tableaus that few visitors get to see or know about. Each of the 73 villages has a small temple situated on its outskirts dedicated to the Ayyanar, or the guardian deity of the village, who is supposed to protect its inhabitants from evil spirits. The deities themselves, meant to symbolise dead heroes and warriors, are certainly eye-catching figures, painted in lurid colours, with protruding eyes and hanging tongues, and brandishing deadly weapons.

But they are overshadowed by the main attraction, both figuratively and literally.  These are the towering terracotta horses that are installed in long lines leading up to the shrine and which are brought each year as a votive offering to the Ayyanar during festivals. Built from the ground up, starting with the legs, and made to order by the village potter in the weeks leading up to the festival, the steeds of the Ayyanar can reach up to 15 feet high. Walking up the parade line between them up to the main shrine, one feels almost intimidated by these gaily caparisoned equestrian guards, with their staring eyes, flaring nostrils, and bared teeth. They are undeniably impressive and one must admire the craftsman’s handiwork.

You can book your stay at The Bangala here: https://www.thebangala.com/