Kancheepuram yet to recover from COVID-19 impact as temple town crawls towards normalcy

KANCHEEPURAM: The streets looked as if they just woke up from a long slumber. Aroma of filter coffee wafted the corners of crossroads and devotional songs filled the air around many shops.

Flower sellers were gradually reclaiming the pavements. Having made its name and fame from silk and spirituality, Kancheepuram seemed to be waking up, almost five months after the coronavirus forced this temple town to shut down.

As we walked towards the Kamatchi Amman temple, one of the landmarks here, the town’s struggle to return to normalcy became all the more visible. 

Silent notes 

Thavil has been his companion ever since Thanigaivel entered the world of music in his childhood.

Carrying the heavy musical instrument, the 15-year-old boy came to meet us in front of the temple’s quiet east entrance, where on a normal day hundreds of devotees would line up hours before the temple gates opened for darshan.

Belonging to a family of traditional musicians, Thanigaivel knows nothing else but playing Thavil.  

“We usually perform at temples, festivals and marriages. Out of these, marriages offer the best avenue to make a living. With the lockdown, almost all our savings are over and so are the major muhoorthams and festivals in this year,” said the teen while gently moving his fingers over the Thavil.

His father Ramalingam agreed.

“There are only a few auspicious days left in this year. We have received just three bookings for the next month. Usually we charge between Rs 5,000 to Rs 6,000 for a troupe of four people. Now, we are not demanding that amount also. we are saying ‘ok’ even if the customers are ready to give Rs3000 to Rs5,000.” Both father and son were optimistic that the difficult period was about to get over. 

Looms making a slow restart

It was near the temple we met a local man Panneerselvam who readily agreed to guide us to some silk weavers in the town.

Renowned across the world for making silk sarees bearing unique designs and vibrant colours, Kancheepuram’s weavers are limping towards an unsettled market.

Having acquaintances with several weavers, Panneerselvam navigated us through narrow streets to a small weaving unit which welcomed us in silence. There was no clacking of looms, the signature of weaving activity, as we entered a room which housed over 10 looms.

“Business is dull. Otherwise, this place would have been busy,” said Panneerselvam as he took us to another building nearby.

Weaving unit owner Velayudhan greeted us with a gentle smile as we entered a small house reverberating with the sound of looms. With decades of experience in weaving and selling silk, Velayudhan seemed to feel the pulse of the market.

“Earlier, we used to make one saree in 10-12 days. Now, the demand is so low that we are completing one in a month,” he said while adding that the main marriage season this year has already gotten over.

Being heavily dependent on a long supply chain of raw materials, the weavers received a bloody blow during the lockdown.

While raw silk comes from Bengaluru, the glittering silver and gold jerry threads that give Kancheepuram silk its own identity come from Surat in Gujarat.

The designs are punched onto cardboard pieces using computers and these punched cards come from Sivakasi. Major repairs of looms are done by manufacturers in Madurai.

“All these got affected. Moreover, the business in big cities was almost zero,” Velayudhan said.

As he toured us through the small unit, we talked to a couple of other weavers who were busy on their looms. Skillfully moving his hands, weaver Kumaran told us that he didn’t have a fixed work schedule.

“It all depends on the demand. I used to work from morning six to evening eight during the season. Now, there is hardly any work,” he said. 

The lost days of priests

One of the hardest hit in this town that depends heavily on pilgrims is the priestly sect. It was drizzling when we met D Arunachalam outside a stationery shop.

A priest who performs rituals at marriages, house warming and other ceremonies, Arunachalam is unhappy that the government is putting restrictions on the number of pilgrims visiting major temples. “Almost all auspicious days were lost during the lockdown.

At least for the remaining occasions, the government should relax the norm and allow people to conduct rituals without issuing any restrictions,” he said, citing the restrictions on conducting rituals on river banks during the Mahalaya Amavasya.

E Balaji, treasurer of the Kancheepuram Nagara Purohit Sangam, said priests are having an extremely difficult time.

“Most of us are fully dependent on functions such as marriage and house warming. The total lockdown on Sundays dealt us a heavy blow as many functions that were slated on Sundays were either cancelled or postponed,” he said.

Balaji said that around 90 purohits in Kancheepuram were left without any income during the lockdown while many others barely managed with their savings. 

No-show season for artistes

Leaving the town and it’s numerous temples behind, we drove through Cheyyar road towards the outskirts where-in lies the training grounds of artistes belonging to traditional Tamil theatre. Crossing a long bridge across the dried-up Palar river, we reached Punjarasantankal village where the famed Kattaikoottu Sangam is housed.

Co-founded by kattaikoottu actor, director and playwright Perungattur P Rajagopal and his Dutch wife Hanne M de Bruin, the Sangam is in the forefront of promoting one of the traditional cultural art forms of Tamil Nadu. Besides, it also acts as a training and research centre.

It has been six months since the training sessions were stopped, and most students have gone home. Sitting amid the quiet ambience of the Sangam office, Rajagopal said they were able to support some artistes who are in dire needs. 

“I heard that some troupes have started performances by wearing masks and all. We are not doing anything of that sort. Things will return to normal. We are waiting,” he said, adding that artistes may get some bookings from next month onwards.

“For us, we will have a small performance session here during the Vijayadashami that falls in next month,” he said.

With this year’s booking calendar almost gone empty, many troupes are waiting for the next season which starts in January. 

Signalling the arrival of rain, the evening sun hid behind dark clouds as we drove out of the town after the day-long visit.

A salesman sat idle outside a silk saree shop, looking at a scantily occupied public bus speeding past him. The cloud of uncertainty that looms large over the town is likely to give way to a clear sky soon.