When the weather was just right and Madras seemed to sway gently in the sea breeze, Tamil writer Dilip Kumar used to take an auto to the Marina beach from the office of Cre-A Publishers where he worked. He would then take a stroll by the sea. The city and its people were the inspiration for his short stories, many of which are set in Sowcarpet’s Ekambareswarar agraharam, a neighbourhood in which he spent most part of his younger years. The 71-year-old author, whose ancestors are from Gujarat, is in fact more Tamil at heart, and Chennai has been his muse and home for 40 years. He recently spoke of his journey at an event organised by Madras Musings and Madras Book Club as part of Madras Week celebrations.
Dilip Kumar’s Madras is one whose streets were less crowded, and roads dotted with just a few MTC buses and taxis. “We would watch French and Russian classics screened at Alliance Française and the Russian Cultural Centre,” he recalls. Dilip moved to Madras when he was 28, from Coimbatore, where he spent his childhood. His years growing up were not easy: his father’s losses in business and early death, having to drop out of school… but Dilip does not want to romanticise his hardship. “There are so many people going through much worse. I think it is unfair to glorify a writer’s sorrows,” he says. But these experiences taught him life.
He worked at textile shops for several years, meeting people from all walks of life. “One day, I wondered if I will get stuck in these shops all my life,” he says. With no education to back him, he turned to books for help. It was Coimbatore’s old book market that taught him the nuances of the Tamil language that would one day shape his career. Dilip fell in love with literature and left for Chennai to try his luck in the city.
For someone who knew Gujarati, Hindi, and English, Dilip chose to write in Tamil. “I feel a writer in India should write in the local language,” he says, adding, “To write about the struggles of everyday Tamil people, it was only fair that I did so in a language they spoke.” Dilip wrote about the people and lifescapes he knew well: that of the migrant Gujarati community in Sowcarpet. “Not many people knew of the struggles of people from the lower middle-class of the North Indian community,” he points out, adding that a lot of people in the city associate Gujaratis with wealth and a lavish lifestyle.
“My stories reflect the aspirations and beliefs of these people, giving a realistic portrayal of the migrant community in Madras,” explains Dilip. Here too, there are struggles. Dilip talks of universal themes: of life in tiny shared living quarters; of a people who moved to a city for survival, eventually calling it home.
Dilip Kumar, who now lives in Royapettah, will soon be moving back to Coimbatore where he will settle at a retirement home. Will he miss Chennai? “Not really,” he smiles. “If I do, I can always plan a trip.”
