Rajalakshmi's Gunankuppam

Gunankuppam is a settlement of  Pazhaverkadu that lies on a thin barrier island separating the Bay of Bengal from a distributary of the Kosasthalai river. The settlement is a grid of colourful houses home to about 500 families. In the afternoon heat when I visited, groups of people hung out under trees or under sheds chatting. There were women playing little gambling games such as dayaboss and maniattam. Some women were laying out their fish to dry.

Where is Gunankuppam?

The proposed extension of the Adani Kattupalli port, once constructed, will result in a steady erosion of land that will eventually lead to this barrier island fully submerging into the sea. The residents of the village did not learn about this upcoming project from the government. Rather, they learned about it from activists opposing the Adani port about 4 years ago. Since then, they have very little information about the progress of the project and the fate that awaits their village.

Aside from the existential threat facing Gunankuppam, the character of the village  has also  changed over time as fishing yields have dropped. Subsistence fishers  around the world have seen their yields drop because of acidification of oceans resulting from climate change, excessive fishing by large trawlers,  and local pollution. In this area, fish catch has been affected by the gradual industrialization of North Chennai, and it got a sudden jolt from the oil spill of 2016. Rajalakshmi, who is in her mid-forties, has lived through these changing times. She was born in Gunankuppam and has lived here all her life.

Women playing maniattam, a gambling game with marbles

Women playing dayaboss, a dice game played on a board drawn on the sand

A woman drying fish

According to Rajalakshmi, the biggest change arising from the dropping fish yields is that today women now need to go to work. Earlier, women only went out to sell the fish their husbands had caught. Women in the village work in shrimp farms or in small factories such  as the biscuit factory in Sholavaram. “And in some houses, the man stays at home”, she says.

Women going to work has affected their social interactions. “Earlier we (women) used to bring our food from home and sit together and eat. Five or ten of us would gather, whether it was tiffin or sappadu  (meals). These days, maybe because everyone goes to work, everyone just eats at their own house. When we sat together, we used to eat better, since we were talking  to each other about the goings-on the town and everything else (nattu, nadappu, varalaaru). When I eat alone at home, I don't feel like eating. I just finish off my lunch quickly. Earlier if we went to a wedding, about ten of us would get together and go. Now most people don't get leave from their jobs. Things like this have changed.”

Rajalakshmi started out as a housewife going out just to sell fish. Later, to earn money, she started assisting people in getting their government paperwork done – such as helping them  get their aadhaar card, applying for student scholarships under government schemes, processing forms for getting benefits under various government schemes, making changes in land pattas etc. “I learnt a lot by going to those offices and talking to people there.  For 8 years, I was also the head of the women's self-help group.”  But these days she can no longer make money from this work since a lot of government procedures have moved online. So she has started selling idli maavu that she grinds at home.


Rajalakshmi’s schooling was discontinued in the seventh standard when she attained puberty. “I felt very bad about that, but that’s how it was in those days.” She still regrets missing out. Interacting with people outside the house made her realize the value of education. “I knew people in various local government offices, such as in the collector office, taluk office, BDO office. They would tell me if I had a tenth certificate, I could get a job”.

“ In my neighborhood, when I see children thinking of discontinuing their schooling to take a job, I go to them and talk. After I finish my housework, I would sit them down and try to convince them to continue studying. I find great satisfaction in this counseling work I do. My husband doesn't like what I do, he doesn't want people blaming me for what happens in their family. But I do what I think is right.”

“Last year two girls in the tenth standard stopped going to school because they had to work.  However busy I would be, I kept talking to them, and to their parents. I begged them. They finally passed the exam. The headmaster praised me for my efforts.  Sometimes I would even arrange money for students’ school fees by finding donors.”

Rajalakshmi is a volunteer in Chennai Samooga Sevai Sangam (MSSS, Madras Social Service Society) in Alwarpet Chennai. The Society gave her an award recognizing her work in encouraging students.

Rajalakshmi displaying her award from MSSS

Rajalakshmi’s son has been a contract worker in the Royal Enfield bike factory in Thiruvottriyur for the last five years. She thinks it is better for him to have a factory job rather than take up  fishing, which is their traditional occupation. She says, “my son should not face the struggles that my husband faces. When my husband comes back from fishing, he is exhausted. His body aches. Sometimes he goes off to sleep without even eating. If he (my son) has a job, he can get some extra hours of sleep.

Any work has its challenges, but fishing in the sea is really really hard. After coming back, they have to mend the nets, wash the engine, wash the boat, buy petrol, buy ice. All this has to be prepared the previous day, before leaving.

If they go to the sea and manage to catch some fish, then they can return in a few hours. But if they are not lucky and don’t find anything, they could even end up spending 2 days out in the sea. That's the nature of the work.”

Her son earns 12k and sends most of the money home. The money is necessary to run the household, given the reduced fishing yield. Rajeshwari’s idli maavu business brings in at most 2k a month. She thinks her son can get a better-paying job, but is staying on with the hopes of being made permanent.

Even running such a small business as that of idli maavu is strenuous. She says, “My neck hurts, my arm hurts because of the posture, I often catch a cold because I am constantly mixing cold maavu with my hands.  Last night, I was awake till 3 am grinding maavu. If I don't finish before 6 pm, the voltage becomes low, then I can do it only after midnight. And I worry -- if I am too sick to work, how I will  run the household. But if one has a job, one can take a day off. That's what I tell the youth here.”

That day, it was 4 pm and she hadn’t started the grinding because she was talking to me. On my insistence, she started. She described how she managed to make the maavu fluffy and how the idlis came out really nice, and her customers wouldn’t buy from anyone else.

In terms of economic comfort, Rajalakshmi has seen better times.  “I have five older brothers. When I was growing up, they earned well and took such good care of me. Sellama vallarthinanga. I feel bad because I can't raise my children in a similar way. All my brothers went fishing.  These days the fish catch is a tenth of what it used to be.”

She says, “The fish yield dropped after the oil spill in 2016. Was the oil spill a planned event to ruin us, since Adani wants to drive us out of here to build his harbour? I don’t know. “

This suspicion is shared by other fishermen, one of them said “Adani has put chemicals into the sea to kill the fish”. Metaphorically, they are right, the sea has indeed been poisoned by forces of capitalism, of which Adani is a representative.