Last week, I led a walk on Independence Day to commemorate the freedom markers of Mount Road. It was a study that I had long wanted to take up – in my view, much of the history of the freedom struggle in our city is centred on areas such as George Town, the Marina, Thiruvallikeni, and Mylapore. And it turned out to be a worthwhile route map.

The walk, appropriately enough, began at The Hindu, the paper that was steadfast in its championing the cause of freedom. And in keeping with that spirit, all the participants were given a freshly printed copy of The Hindu’s August 15, 1947, edition. From there we went to The Mail, whose offices are next door. Now defunct, it, at least till Independence, represented British interests. It was The Mail’s support to Arbuthnot & Co. following its collapse in 1906 that saw Indians veering towards The Hindu.

Our next stop was where the showroom of Kishinchand Chellaram once stood. Mahatma Gandhi had asked the Congress volunteers to picket shops selling foreign goods, and it is my view that in this, the focus was always Indian-owned outlets that dealt with such products. Much of the picketing, therefore, happened outside shops in the China Bazaar area with hardly any on Mount Road being targeted, the latter being European establishments selling to Europeans. Chellaram’s was the exception, and there was picketing outside it.

We then went to Blackers Road where the Gaiety Palace marks the spot where the eponymous theatre was. This was where the film Thyaga Bhoomi was screened in 1938. Kalki’s novel, themed on struggles against colonial, caste, and patriarchal oppression, became a landmark film. But it has also since led to many apocryphal tales – of a ban order on the movie, a lathi charge inside the theatre, etc. It shows that the freedom struggle, too, could spawn fictional narratives, but the film nevertheless was inspiring.

From Gaiety, we went to the VGP building, once the offices of the Swadesamitran when the place was Victory House. Subramania Bharathi is the name most closely associated with the paper, though it did not function from here till after his death. Bharathi, thereafter, was a running theme of the walk, as our next stop was the DBS Building where once was Saraswathi Stores. This was AVM’s outlet for its gramophone records. Bharathi’s songs had been banned shortly after his death. His wife had sold the copyrights to the Broadcast gramophone label from whom Meyyappan bought them to feature the songs in his 1947 film Naam Iruvar. With Independence, the Government of Madras, with much effort by Avinashalingam Chettiar, then a minister, lifted the ban, got Meyyappan to free the works of copyright and also made sure Bharathi’s wife was given due compensation.

If freeing of copyright was the theme at Saraswathi Stores, outside Higginbothams it was the struggle to establish copyright, on a portrait of Mahatma Gandhi, done by the patriot Arya Bhashyam. He had famously refused a freedom fighter’s pension and begun making a living by doing portraits of freedom fighters. His picture of Gandhi was given in the 1960s for block making and printing to the Associated Press, which functions from the rear of Higginbothams.

Consider his shock when he found that the company, after fulfilling his contract, began selling prints of the picture in parallel in another artist’s name. This led to litigation that Bhashyam eventually won.

Memories of Partition

Standing outside the Quaid-e-Milleth college and facing Agurchund Mansions, I am always reminded of Partition. Mohammad Ismail, who was decorated with the title of Quaid-e-Milleth (leader of the nation) was one of the founders of the Indian Union Muslim League, which as the name suggests, sternly opposed dividing the country. The college was named after him. On the other side of Mount Road is what was once Khaleeli Mansions, built by Agha Mohammad Khaleel Shirazi. In 1947, the building was owned by his Abbas Khaleeli, ICS, who migrated to Pakistan. Declared evacuee property, the building was brought to auction and purchased by Sah Agurchund Manmul.

Our final stop was at the empty pedestal that stands at the Spencer junction. On this site once stood the statue of Col. James Neill, as a symbol of British victory in 1857. Much hated by Indians, the statue saw the first protest against a symbol of imperialism anywhere in the country. It lasted from the early 1920s till 1937 when the then newly-elected Rajaji government ordered the statue’s shift to the museum vaults where it remains. Many unknown heroes and heroines were involved in this struggle, and it saw the rise of K. Kamaraj.

Most of these landmarks exist only in books and it will be good if the Greater Chennai Corporation considers blue plaques to commemorate them.

(Sriram V. is a writer and historian.)

Published - August 19, 2026 12:30 pm IST