The Silence of Chettinad Mansions

Absolute silence is rare. There is always something that interrupts us from experiencing the absolute silence — a dog’s bark, a car horn, or the sound of an unknown machinery running somewhere. Makes you wonder if absolute silence even exist. It does. And I’ve experienced it only twice in my life so far.

The first time was during my visit to Thiruvannamalai in 2014 for a travel photography job. I climbed the hill behind Ramana ashram and found a tiny house on top of the hill where people meditated. I went in and sat down to meditate. That was the first time I experienced silence. It was too much for me. I came out running after five minutes. The silence was deafening.

The second time I experienced such silence was during my recent trip to Karaikudi. A bunch of us were visiting old mansions in Chettinad. I walked into a large hall while others were exploring other parts of the house, taking pictures and admiring the intricacies of the architecture.

The place I walked into was a small courtyard at the back of the house. The place was deserted. There was no visible activity except for the specks of dust that dangled in the sun’s rays. The place was eerily silent.

I was unable to hear anyone from the main hallway due to the extensive size of the residence, which spanned several thousand square feet. All I experienced at that moment was silence that was calm and frightening at the same time.

But, these mansions weren’t built to experience silence. They were built by Chettiars to share joy, display wealth, and show their artistic taste. These mansions were built to house large families, host weddings and serve as stock inventory for their trade.

A hundred years back, the same courtyard I stood in would’ve heard laughter, giggles, chatter, whispers, and arguments without a moment of silence.

Somewhere along the way, these mansions became lonely.

After we checked out of the mansion we stayed in, everyone was chilling in the center courtyard. I sat in the welcoming area, which was a massive hall with a thirty plus foot ceiling and a carpet area spanning a few thousand square feet. There were ten single-seater sofas for the guests to sit. I saw an old man sitting on one of the sofas. I walked past him and took a seat at the far end. He looked at me and smiled. I smiled back. The man looked weak. He must be in his eighties. He was one of the descendants of the Chettiar who built the house before a hundred years.

I wondered how would the old man feel at night when he experiences the same silence. Will he enjoy the solitude? Or reminisce the good old days when the mansion was filled with the sound of life? I wasn’t sure.

As the rest of my travelers got ready, I experienced the absolute silence for one last time before we checked out. It was calm and frightening at the same time.