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N.R.Muruganathan |
A Tamil short epic, authored by N.R. Muruganathan, who is
80 years old now, introduces Nanjundapuram, a village,
once famous for toddy with acres of
its coconut groves. His description says that the fertile
village provides work for bulls and plough throughout the year with the ‘wonder’ of river Noyyal flowing across it.
But, today it is an irony that Nanjundapuam is no more a
village, but a concrete jungle with a number of
gated communities, individual houses and
busy commercial establishments along its road.
Muruganathan, though wrote his epic Thoorigai
( Painter’s brush) and bagged a prize in
1995, he set a part of its story in his native village
Nanjundapuram, as he had seen it while he was a boy.
“ I took my B.A in Tamil literature from the Government Arts College. However, I did not seek a job, and rather continued our family’s occupation of agriculture at Nanjundapuram” says Muruganathan.
The author remembers a ten-year period in the history of Coimbatore, during which
there was not a single drop of rain.
“ The city witnessed a great famine due to the failure of monsoon for a decade from 1961 -1971. Coimbatore wore an
infernal look with plants and trees withering away. But, I saved many of the coconut and areca nut trees in my field, for my brother regularly provided some water from his farmland
well to irrigate the plants”
Reminicing his student days, the octogenarian author informs that he was inspired by the Tamil classes conducted by the legendary Tamil scholar and teacher Pulavar Sundararasanar while he studied at St. Michael’s Higher Secondary School, a 300 year old heritage institution of Coimbatore.
A lover of writing and staging plays in his earlier days, Muruganathan says:
“ I penned my first play on the title Puratchi Kanal in 1963. It was staged at the movie hall Shanmuga, for the cinema was also a venue for staging dramas in the yesteryear Coimbatore “

“ Following the surgery, I had been in coma for about forty five days. My wife Rajee, who is no more today, dedicated herself by attending to me. She shed tears at my condition, laid her head on my feet and slept throughout the nights. One day in the morning, I felt that I got back my senses. I remember that the the first word I uttered was my wife’s name ‘ Rajee’ by calling her so” breaks down Muruganathan, who had married his beloved from a different caste after a romantic affair with her.
Thoorigai - In nutshell
Link to my article in The New Indian Express : http://epaper.newindianexpress.com/c/24096532