Is Madras Club the best club in the country? Author Prajwal Parajuly thinks so
Calcuttans of a certain vintage think the Tollygunge Club is the Taj Mahal and a membership there, the pinnacle of aspiration. But they are cackled at by members of the Calcutta Club, who, in turn, are put in their places by the Bengal Club mafia. This hierarchy of clubs is a riotous, ridiculous notion for someone who grew up in Gangtok, a town with no clubs. I haven't quite been able to understand the investment people put into being associated with Raj-era nostalgia, more pronounced in Calcutta than in any other Indian city.
First, there's something flagrantly racist about many clubs rolling out their frayed red carpet for foreign-passport holders, who are often exempt from jumping the same hoops as Indians to gain membership. But point this out, and a wildly gesticulating clubbie will list the virtues of their non-racist club: subsidised alcohol, central location, like-minded people, sporting facilities, 177-year history, urban oasis. For all this, a club membership is worth the sometimes-decades-long waitlist, they say.
I am a self-anointed expert on the Indian club because I can offer an outsider's perspective, untainted by memories of horse-riding and swimming lessons and Christmas roasts. My verdict is that the best club in India isn't Delhi's Gymkhana Club or Hyderabad's Secunderabad Club. It definitely isn't any of the unexceptional clubs of Calcutta. The Madras Club, Chennai's little snobdom, is without question the Number One club in the country.
I see a Delhi Gymkhana member elevate her just-threaded eyebrow and string a sentence with some permutation of 'But in terms of exclusivity ….' The Tolly Club veteran will offer an opinion about its recent refurbishments. 'And the Yacht Club?' a Mumbai native will say. 'The views are swoon-worthy.' Someone or the other will label my jaundiced take on clubs as being new money. It still doesn't mean I'll rank your club higher than the Madras Club.
When Vidya Singh, a friend of a friend, suggested we convene at the Madras Club for our first meeting, I hesitated. I had been scarred by the clubs of Calcutta — the insipid food, the laissez-faire service, and the theatrics of tipping waiters on the sly — and didn't want my social life in Chennai to replicate that. I'd also have to adhere to a ridiculous dress code when shorts and flip-flops were my uniform in Sri City. Jerry, the Madras Club martinet, actually eyed my loafers several times as I climbed up to the club's foyer. Luckily Vidya had warned me: a collared shirt, shoes, and socks. Over dinner of chicken roast and mashed potatoes, I let it slip that I had been staying in hotels on my Chennai visits. 'Hotels?' Vidya said with disdain. I'd stay at the Madras Club instead, she decided.
See, the nice hotels in Chennai have every amenity but grounds on which to walk. And when this Himalayan goat doesn't get his steps in, he morphs into a grump. In this eminently pedestrian-unfriendly city, footpaths aren't exactly footpaths. Parks are hard to come by. Finding a place for a stroll that's not a beach is tough. That is why the Madras Club grounds are such a privilege. The walking track here is joy in sand and clay.
I like that the club's happy-making light yellow Palladian building isn't the deep yellow of the buildings of the Mediterranean. The cupola is handsome, the pool colossal. Staying in the rooms — so massive that you could actually jump rope in them without causing distress to any of the colonial furniture or the sepia pictures on the walls — is like spending a night in a friend's well-appointed guestroom. This, I understand, is what many clubs aspire to. It's just that the Tollygunge Club quarters have all the character of a PWD guesthouse with miniature pink soaps.
When I stay at the club, I rise at the crack of dawn, go for a leisurely stroll and eat idli, serenaded by birdsong, on the club verandah. I read more here than I do anywhere else. The club atmosphere, of course, lends itself to revisiting the classics. Evenings are for Mulligatawny soup, supposedly invented here, and shoes (and socks) and collared shirts in the formal dining room.
My checkouts are a bit of a spectacle. The receptionist asks if he should call for a cab. I smile. I walk — yes, gasp, walk — out of the club, my suitcase rattling behind me. I leave the confines of the Boat Club Road, one of the few semi-walkable neighbourhoods in Chennai, and, politely saying no to autos, head to the Nandanam Metro Station. I nearly get run over by a speeding bike. A quick metro ride delivers me to Chennai Central. There, I take a non-air-conditioned train to Sri City, a two-hour journey as egalitarian as the Madras Club is not.
Prajwal Parajuly is the author of The Gurkha's Daughter and Land Where I Flee. He loves idli, loathes naan, and is indifferent to coffee. He teaches Creative Writing at Krea University and oscillates between New York City and Sri City.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
New Indian Express
15 minutes ago
- New Indian Express
Silver anniversary of a marriage made for TV
These days, much of my family time is spent watching my ageing father watch KBC episodes on a loop on YouTube. I jokingly call it a 'soother' for his fretful, fading mind. His unconditional love for the show and my shared viewing with him has given me an empathetic perspective beyond my entrenched cynicism and equivocation. The recent seasons of KBC have been all about Bachchan carrying forward the mantle of the Baghban patriarch effectively to the next level. He is the dignified elder but not distant, stately but not authoritarian. He is a confidant who inspires people across age groups to share their deepest feelings with him and, in turn, the nation at large. Be it a young couple's pain at their parents not accepting their inter-caste marriage or a couple forced to live separately in distant cities because of workplace demands. It's something Shah Rukh Khan couldn't channel in his one season as a host despite his flair. Bachchan smoothly adapts to the personality of each of the contestants—playful, jocular, theatrical or serious. He might be playing the lead, yet becomes the supporting actor and ally for participants, letting them take centre-stage. He tries not to be the hero in what is arguably his best role since being Salim-Javed's Vijay. The very sentimentality and wealth creation that KBC has been critiqued for appear to be its trump cards, because it all boils down to the triumph of the underdog. It's tough to not get moved by the plight of Usmanbhai, a farmer from Uttar Pradesh, matter of fact in talking about the vagaries of income and the inability to pay his child's fee for seven months. Or Sudhir Kumar Verma, a daily wage earner, referring to his trial by fire of being scorched in the furnace of mines. How can one not celebrate the never-say-die spirit of Himani Bundela, the first visually impaired crorepati on the show? And what's not to appreciate about Jayant Dule playing for the money to build bathrooms for the women in his village? It's a peep into the social contradictions of India and puts the spotlight on the struggles of the invisibilised, and their rare shots at success. In the last episode of season 16, Bachchan admitted being the kendra (centre) of the show, but one supported by three mahashaktis (superpowers)—the participants, viewers on the sets and those watching the show in their homes. It's hard to imagine that this trinity would have left him untouched. For someone who has been mythologised as the representative of the marginalised, personifying the social discontent and defiance of the times in the peak of his stardom as the screen's Angry Young Man, it's somehow apt to see him interacting with those common Indians in his most persuasive avatar since Vijay. It's about a superstar climbing down from his ivory tower to mingle with hoi polloi and make the privileged among us do the same. Read all columns by Namrata Joshi Consulting Editor Follow her on X @Namrata_Joshi
Time of India
37 minutes ago
- Time of India
Priyanka Chopra enjoys dinner at Vikas Khanna's Bungalow in NYC; chef dedicates ceiling decor to Malti Marie
Priyanka Chopra Jonas recently stepped out for a cosy dinner at celebrity chef Vikas Khanna 's restaurant, Bungalow, in New York. Accompanied by her longtime manager Anjula Acharia and close friends, the global icon indulged in a lavish spread of Indian cuisine and desserts while soaking in the warmth and artistry of the chef's hospitality. Taking to Instagram, Anjula shared a series of photos and videos from their visit, capturing intimate moments, delicious dishes, and a joyful group portrait with Vikas . The chef, in turn, posted a video offering a glimpse of Bungalow's vibrant glass ceiling — adorned with Sambalpuri handkerchiefs in celebration of the upcoming Rath Yatra and the artistry of Western Odisha. Vikas Khanna dedicates decor to Malti Marie What made the evening even more special was a thoughtful tribute by Vikas to Priyanka 's daughter, Malti Marie Chopra Jonas. Sharing the video on Instagram, he wrote, "Everyone keeps asking why we adorn our glass ceiling every single day. They say, no one even notices… I always smile and reply: It's not just for the ones walking in. It's for the ones watching over us from above." He added, "Today, I adorned the ceiling for Malti Marie Chopra Jonas. Thank you @priyankachopra @anjula_acharia for making Bungalow so auspicious today. Today was a celebration of the upcoming Rath Yatra & the artisans of Sambalpur & Western Odisha." Anjula responded to the emotional post, writing, 'Thank you for spoiling us so much, we loved it @priyankachopra.' by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like 임플란트 최대 할인 지원해드려요 임플란터 더 알아보기 Undo 'Still in a food coma,' says Priyanka Priyanka also took to her Instagram Stories to share her appreciation. Reposting Anjula's video of Vikas setting up their meal, she wrote, 'Still in a food coma. You're the best host, Vikas.' For the outing, the actress kept it chic and elegant in a black dress paired with a matching blazer and shoes. The group was seen relishing a multi-course Indian meal followed by an assortment of desserts, giving the evening the perfect sweet ending. A return to a favourite place This isn't Priyanka's first visit to Bungalow. In December last year, she dined at the restaurant with husband Nick Jonas and their friends, later posting a message of gratitude: 'Thank you @bungalowny for being incredible hosts. And Vikas, thank you for a taste of home.' Bungalow, located in New York's East Village, opened in March 2023 and has since become a hotspot for Indian cuisine lovers and global celebrities alike.
Time of India
an hour ago
- Time of India
Umrao Jaan set for 4K revival as Rekha-starrer cult classic re-releases in theatres on June 27
The courtesan of Lucknow is poised for her grand return. On June 27, Muzaffar Ali 's celebrated 1981 masterpiece Umrao Jaan will be re-released in theatres in a digitally restored avatar, promising audiences a cinematic journey steeped in poetry, pain, and poignancy. Backed by the National Film Development Corporation and the National Film Archive of India , the film has been revived under the National Film Heritage Mission, marking a significant moment for Indian cinephiles. Rekha's Finest Hour At the heart of Umrao Jaan lies an iconic performance by Rekha, whose portrayal of the 19th-century tawaif earned her the National Award for Best Actress. Director Muzaffar Ali, speaking to SCREEN, reflected on her layered preparation: 'She had to prepare on many levels—language, singing, dancing. Yes, there were people to guide her, but she performed beyond expectations.' He added, 'Working with her was a gift because this film is woven from quiet emotions. And it takes an actor like her to absorb those feelings and translate them onto the screen.' For many, Rekha did more than just play Umrao—she became her. Her haunting eyes, graceful dance, and restrained agony turned the film into one of Indian cinema 's most soul-stirring experiences. View this post on Instagram A post shared by PVR Cinemas (@pvrcinemas_official) Guns, Grit, and Gharanas Ali also recounted a fascinating moment from the shoot, revealing how a group of fans in Malihabad—some armed—eagerly stormed the set to catch a glimpse of Rekha. 'It wasn't as scary as it sounds,' he said with a smile. 'They were thrilled. And later, I even cast them in the film. You see, I made them all decoys, using the very same guns they'd brought.' The anecdote captures the fevered fandom the actress commanded even in the early '80s. A Story Both Historic and Haunting Adapted from Mirza Hadi Ruswa's 1899 Urdu novel Umrao Jaan Ada, the film tells the tale of Amiran, abducted and sold into a Lucknow kotha, who later reinvents herself as the poetess and courtesan Umrao Jaan. Her entanglements with three men—portrayed by Farooque Shaikh, Raj Babbar, and Naseeruddin Shah—form the emotional skeleton of a film that meditates on longing, identity, and the impossible pursuit of love. You Might Also Like: Rekha's co-star reveals how she transformed into a 'white swan from ugly duckling', says she was an enigma Muzaffar Ali noted that the inspiration to adapt the novel came from its timeless resonance. 'The idea was always about this girl, set a hundred years ago, yet facing something timeless,' he said. Songs that Echo Through Time No tribute to Umrao Jaan is complete without its music. Composed by the maestro Khayyam with lyrics by Shahryar and soulfully rendered by Asha Bhosle , the soundtrack has attained immortal status. 'Dil Cheez Kya Hai,' 'In Ankhon Ki Masti Ke,' and 'Yeh Kya Jagah Hai Doston' remain cultural touchstones, instantly evoking the film's melancholic grandeur. — nfdcindia (@nfdcindia) In an era dominated by loud visuals and quick-paced edits, Umrao Jaan is a gentle reminder of cinema as an art of stillness and silence. Its return to theatres is not just nostalgia—it's a statement. It invites newer generations to witness a kind of storytelling where poetry meets performance, and silence often says more than words. You Might Also Like: When Rekha's new look made Jaya Bachchan cry at a famous Bollywood wedding, biographer reveals
