Lights out at Veda Nilayam

Barring some vehicles - a few luxury cars and motorbikes - passing by, the stretch outside Veda Nilayam on Poes Garden bears a desolate look.  What was once the power centre of Tamil Nadu politics, on Wednesday evening, soon after VK Sasikala’s arrest, is just another palatial bungalow. Anyone who had visited the area, even about a month ago, would have been surprised to know how accessible the road leading to the house has become, in a matter of few hours. 

On the adjacent Raghava Veera Avenue, a dozen police officers, who have been on duty earlier in the day, are visibly exhausted, and manage a siesta under the canopy of trees. Bereft of the posse of police security guards and the hustle-bustle of party workers, the residence of the former Chief Minister, the late J Jayalalithaa, stands guarded by a handful of party workers. Outside the gate, a group of men clad in crisp white veshtis , wait to catch a glimpse of what’s left of the party’s grandeur. A party worker shoos them away, “You have seen the place, right? Now leave, don’t crowd around here.” They meekly disperse, turning around one last time. 

Jayaraj, one of the security guards, who has been in the party for a few years, now gives the rest of them their duty chart. “I have been here since morning;  one of you stay after six in the evening,” he says. Turning to me, he says, “We are guarding Amma’s kottai now. So what if she is not with us, she will always remain here,” he adds, thumping his chest. 

The fluid political setting of the last few months hasn’t wavered his loyalty, he says. “First, we guarded Amma, then Chinamma. Chinamma has now left the place, but we will guard the legacy.” What about his future? What does he make of it? “This is my duty and I will do it. I am not a chameleon who changes colours. My loyalty for the party and Amma are not like the changing times or like the people who change with it,” he says, turning emotional. Excusing himself, he gets back to passing on further orders to party people still lingering there. 

Another guard, who has been listening to the conversation from a distance, joins me. “If you are from the city, you will know how this was a well-guarded fort. Nobody could come this close, leave alone stand outside this gate,” he adds, pointing out to the board that reads ‘J Jayalalithaa.’ But who is inside now, I prod him. “If Chinamma has left, it doesn’t mean everyone else also has. There is the top rung, middle rung and the lower rung - secretaries, workers and relatives. Some of them are there,” he says with a shrug. 

A few yards away, a tired Vijaya, the women’s wing worker from Namakkal, is resting on the pavement. She sits up, seeing me, and flashes a benign smile. “I have been working actively ever since Amma took over the reins in the 80s. I have met her in Namakkal so many times, whenever she visited us for party meetings and I have also campaigned for her. 

It was heartbreaking to see Chinamma also leave the place. I will leave tonight by train. I only came to see her off,” she says despondently. 

A trio on a two-wheeler tries to zoom past, but makes a quick U-turn, looking at the guards. “My cousins and I came to see Rajini’s house; they are visiting us and were keen on catching a glimpse from outside. We thought we could have one look at Amma’s house, too. This is the closest we could have ever got,” says the man riding the bike, zipping away, with a last lingering look.