The statue of the Kovai’s trade unionist N.G Ramasamy, which stood at the Sungam junction on Trichy Road, was shifted a few months back, with construction work of a flyover being underway as part of the ‘Smart City’ works. The memorial could be safe somewhere now. His statue is golden, and on this May Day, one may wonder why leaders like him turn golden only after their demise.
The statue of the Kovai’s trade unionist N.G Ramasamy, which stood at the Sungam junction on Trichy Road, was shifted a few months back, with construction work of a flyover being underway as part of the ‘Smart City’ works. The memorial could be safe somewhere now. His statue is golden, and on this May Day, one may wonder why leaders like him turn golden only after their demise.
When the freedom fighter and trade unionist NGR passed away in 1943, over 20,000 people thronged the place to condole his death and took part in his funeral procession, which started from Papanaickenpalayam and ended at Singanallur, where the young leader was laid to rest on the banks of river Noyyal.
Although Ramasamy was inspired by the simple life of Mahatma Gandhi, unlike other congressmen, he wanted to be a revolutionary and worked for the uplift of mill workers throughout his short span of life. A strict follower of Gandhi, Ramasamy, even as a school student, founded ‘Unmai Ulla Kazhagam’ an organization to spread the principle of speaking only the truth.
Later, when NGR worked as a labourer in Saroja Mills at Singanallur, he was adept in setting right the faults of the imported machines and got promoted as ‘Mechanic’ and ‘ Master’ in the company. However, his priority was always ‘setting right’ the issues of the working class.
At a very young age of 25, NGR was elected MLA and sent to the assembly, when Chakravarthy Rajagopalachari was the chief minister of Madras presidency in 1937. NGR raised the issues of the working class and condemned the ruthless exploitation of labourers by mill owners, which drew the ire of several capitalists in Coimbatore.
On an occasion, when NGR was on his way back home after addressing a public meeting at Puliyakulam, he was mercilessly assaulted by the henchmen of certain mill owners with iron rods and wooden clubs. Later, on another occasion at Udumalpet, he again became prey to some hooligans hired by the mill owners. Having suffered a fracture on his thigh in the violent attack, the 28-year-old NGR had to depend on a walking stick for the rest of his lifetime. However, the undeterred leader did not give up his mission for the nation’s freedom and liberty of the working class.
Injured in similar violent attacks further and jailed for his protests against the British government several times, NGR became bodily weak.
After his release from the Vellore Prison on January 16, 1943, when the sick N.G Ramasamy got off the train and tottered back to a seat on the platform at Coimbatore Railway Station, there was hardly anyone to receive him.
The Misery of Mill Workers Made the Manchester of South
As part of the 'Coimbatore Vizha' a couple of years ago, you took part in the event ' Mill Town Walk' in which you could have been informed of how the capitalists of Coimbatore 'struggled' hard to make the city 'The Manchester of South India'. But, on the other hand, did a city's historian narrate to you the plight of the poor mill workers, who toiled hard for twelve hours every day, bearing the abuse, punishment, and even sexual harassment by the mill owners and his staff?
The people from the Naidu community, who settled in Coimbatore during the Vijayanagara rule, chose the occupation of cultivating cotton since the climatic conditions of the city were suitable to do so. They earned lucratively in the occupation and later started their mills. Their affluent lifestyle even provided the opportunity to their children to pursue academic studies abroad in textile technology, entrepreneurship, and business management.
But the poor illiterate mill workers, who were mostly from the rural pockets of Coimbatore, had to eke out a living by labouring hard from early morning till late evening.
At a time when owning even a wristwatch was luxury among the people, they perceived time only from the sirens and bells of the mills functioning near their hutments.
'Hey, it has rung 7.45. Hurry up !'
Listening to the ringing of the bell from Lakshmi Mills, a granny at Ammankulam or Papanaickenpalayam, would urge her grandson to start for school.
The residents would gather in the evening and engage themselves in a chat, sitting leisurely on a house pyol. As the long siren blew from the mill, the group would disperse, with one of them saying:
'Time to go to bed. It's 8 PM.'
Though life was peaceful those days without televisions, mobile phones and computers, the work environment was miserable in the mills. With the availability of cheap labour from the rural pockets of Coimbatore, the mill owners exploited the workers by making them toil for twelve hours a day for a meager daily wage of Rs. 6. And just imagine how the capitalists profited themselves out of the maximum surplus value from the employment of each labourer. Worse still, the workers, would, sometimes, have to forgo this paltry sum, in case of their being a bit late to work.
N.Kannakutti, a popular trade unionist from the yesteryear Coimbatore, observes in his autobiography Porattam En Vazhkkai (Struggle is my life) that even girls aged around 16 and 17 working in the CS&W Mills, had to give in to the lust of the mill owner, failing which, they would lose the job.