logo
Sri Krishnadeva Raya Telugu Bhasha Nilayam to celebrate 124th anniversary in Hyderabad

Sri Krishnadeva Raya Telugu Bhasha Nilayam to celebrate 124th anniversary in Hyderabad

The Hindu26-05-2025
Sri Krishnadeva Raya Telugu Bhasha Nilayam (formerly known as Sri Krishnadeva Raya Andhra Bhasha Nilayam) stands tall along the bustling main road of Ramkote in Hyderabad. This Nilayam—meaning 'home' in Telugu—is a treasured haven for serious readers and lovers of Telugu literature.
A quiet calm prevails on the library's second floor as secretary T. Udayawarlu leafs through Neerajanam, a recently launched book that pays posthumous tribute to writer and scholar Biruduraju Ramaraju. Alongside Neerajanam, the Nilayam also released a collection of Ramaraju's essays to mark his centenary birth anniversary in April. 'Ramaraju was the first poet in South India to write about janapada sahityam (folk literature). In addition to Telugu, he was fluent in Sanskrit and English and authored books in both languages. He also served as secretary of the Andhra Bhasha Nilayam,' shares the septuagenarian.
Bibliophile's delight
One of Hyderabad's oldest libraries, Bhasha Nilayam houses around 50,000 books and magazines, including several rare titles. While the library's catalogue offers categorised listings, the digitisation process remains slow and ongoing. Only around 10,000 books have been digitised in the past seven years, hampered by limited funding, staffing shortages, and copyright constraints, explains Udayawarlu.
Treasure trove of Telugu books
Durmarga Charitram, Vishnubhatla Subrahmanya
Achcha Telugu Ramayanam, Koochinanchi Timmakavi
Agnidhaara, Dasarathi
Adhunika Andhra Kavitvam Prayogamulu, C Narayana Reddy
Ahvanam, Vanamaamalai Varadacharyulu
Aame Needalu, Bezawada Gopalreddy Ravi Bharathi
Ameena, Gudipaati Venkatachalam
Antha Natakame, Vishwanatha Satyanarayana
Athagaaru Naxlalitelu, Bhanumathi Ramakrishna
Agniveena, Aanisetti Subbarao
Mahasabha, Taapi Dharma Rao
Ellora, Buchi babu
Anshumati, Adivi Bapiraju
Arutham Kurisina Raatri, Devarakonda Balagangadhar Tilak
Allallu, Muni Manikyam Narasa Rao
Alasaani vaani Allika Jigi Bigi, Vishwanatha Satyanarayana
September 2025 marks a major milestone for Bhasha Nilayam as it completes 124 years. While a few special events are planned to commemorate the occasion, the library — once a beacon of knowledge and enlightenment — continues to strive to sustain its legacy.
Owing to its rich history, Bhasha Nilayam was once regarded as a cultural landmark on par with institutions like Ravindra Bharathi, Telangana Saraswatha Parishat, and Thyagaraja Gana Sabha. 'It was a popular destination at one point and a must-visit for lovers of Telugu literature in Hyderabad. But now, it's mostly M.Phil and Ph.D. students who come here for reference,' says Udayawarlu.
To sustain
This used to be a bustling hub during literary sessions and memorial events held for early Telugu poets and scholars. But when funding dried up and footfall dropped, the library's members came up with a plan to stay afloat: create awards to honour notable individuals posthumously and celebrate their contributions to Telugu literature. 'We'd reach out to the friends and families of late poets and writers, explain the idea of instituting an award in their name, for a fee,' says Udayawarlu.
The idea worked. Today, nine such awards have been set up. Among them are two instituted by the grandchildren of Ravi Chettu Ranga Rao — one of the library's four founders — in memory of their grandfather and his wife, Ravichettu Lakshmi Narasamma. Other awards honour luminaries like poet Dasarathi and Burgula Ramakrishna Rao, the first elected chief minister of Hyderabad State.
The library also earns a bit of income by renting out its fourth floor to the National Open School (NOC).
But challenges remain. Udayawarlu laments that the library has lost around 10,000 books over the years — some lost in transport, some to termites, and many never returned by borrowers. 'People pay ₹40 for a rare book that once cost four annas in 1920 and don't return it. So we converted this into a reference library,' he explains.
Now helmed by president KV Ramana Chary, the library counts Udayawarlu as its ever-dedicated secretary for the past nine years. A passionate bibliophile, he travels from Meerpet to the library for literary events, maintenance work, or salary day to pay the caretaker and manager. 'At 76, I'm the youngest member here,' he laughs. 'Our former president Nuti Shankar Rao retired at 96, and our current vice president, K. Chandraprakash Rao, is 95 and still going strong.'
As Bhasha Nilayam gears up for a few big moments — including poet Dasarathi's birth centenary in July and its own 124th anniversary in September — plans are underway to finally launch a website too.
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

My first day at school
My first day at school

Hans India

time12 minutes ago

  • Hans India

My first day at school

A school is a place of learning for a child. It is a training ground for him/her. It is here that a child forms new associates, new ideas and habits. It is here that he/she prepares himself/herself for the stage of life. I was enrolled in a school at the age of five. I still remember that the first day of my school was a Monday and my mum had packed two sandwiches for me to eat during the short recess. The first day of school is often considered an important day in everyone's life. It is like a new world to us. It is a time of mixed emotions, like nervousness, excitement, homesickness, feelings of shyness, and the like. I felt a bit nervous in the new environment. The boys of my class looked at me with wonder and smiled. I had with me my English alphabet textbook and got my first lesson in learning the alphabets -- A B C. The day started with the teacher introducing herself and explaining the daily routine. We recited the alphabets, sang nursery rhymes and listened to interesting stories. Soon the bell for the recess rang. The boys rushed out of the classroom with excitement. Some of them even gathered around me. They laughed and made fun of me for being so shy. A few sympathised and befriended me. We played games, shared our snacks, and laughed together. It was a novel experience. The final bell to go home rang at 1:30 pm. All the boys felt happy. I took my school bag and hurried back home along with my mother, who was waiting for me at the school gate. While walking back, I realised that my first day was not just about learning the alphabets; it was about making new friends and settling myself as a new student. The morning, which was full of uncertainty, ended with exciting adventures and endless possibilities. Years later, the memory of my first day at school is still fresh in my mind. I feel proud when I describe it to others. My first day in school was completely a new experience for me. It fills me with pride when I look back at it and share my experience with others. I feel my first day helped me become confident in school, which eventually shaped the rest of my years there. Today, several years later, I feel happy that I went to school. If I hadn't, I would be doing odd jobs like running errands, watering the lawns, scrubbing utensils, looking after the sick and the aged, or even washing clothes and wouldn't be able to become a writer or share my experiences with readers like you. Jubel D'Cruz Mumbai

Book on ‘Antiquity of Telugu language' launched at TANA conference
Book on ‘Antiquity of Telugu language' launched at TANA conference

Hans India

time43 minutes ago

  • Hans India

Book on ‘Antiquity of Telugu language' launched at TANA conference

Vijayawada: A book establishing the antiquity of Telugu Language, written by Dr E Sivanagireddy, noted archaeologist and CEO of Pleach India Foundation, was released at 24th TANA (Telugu Association of North America) conference at Show Place, Novi, Detroit, USA on Saturday. Dr Sivanagireddy said the book provides authentic source material based on Prakrit, Sanskrit, Telugu-Kannada and Telugu Inscriptions found engraved on stone plaques and copper plates between 3rd century BCE and 11th century CE. This book was launched by Indian-American Oncologist Dr Dattatreyudu Nori at TANA literary meet in the presence of Telugu actor and politician M Murali Mohan, academician and Hindu coordinator for US and Canada Prof Yarlagadda Laxmi Prasad and co-editor of TANA Souvenir Naveen Vasireddy. Dr Sivanagireddy briefed the audience of the literary meet in the antiquity of 2300 year old Telugu language which was given the status of Classical Language citing references from the inscriptions of both the Telugu States.

At 100, Marathi grammar guru busts biases, myths and typos
At 100, Marathi grammar guru busts biases, myths and typos

Time of India

time6 hours ago

  • Time of India

At 100, Marathi grammar guru busts biases, myths and typos

During the last census in 2011, the surveyor who showed up at Yasmin Shaikh's doorstep did what people often do when they hear her name—he assumed. "Urdu," he wrote in the mother tongue column without asking. "My mother tongue is Marathi," Shaikh demurred. Seated at her dining table just days after turning 100, the grammar veteran laughs at the memory. "The surname and I have had a long journey," she says, recalling how a builder once backed out of a flat deal on hearing her name. Another time, a co-passenger on a train—whose kid had bonded with her over a crossword—got up "as if something bit her" when Shaikh introduced herself. Clad in a floral pink gown this rainy afternoon, her trusty walker—"my companion"—and well-wisher Dilip Phaltankar by her side, Shaikh shows no sign of age slowing her down. She writes by hand, reads fine print without glasses, and recalls details like the name of a wartime English periodical printed "only in India": Gestapo. You Can Also Check: Mumbai AQI | Weather in Mumbai | Bank Holidays in Mumbai | Public Holidays in Mumbai Born Jerusha Reuben in Nashik on the midnight of June 21, 1925, she was the second of seven children in a Marathi-speaking Jewish household. Her home brimmed with Marathi novels by Nath Madhav and H N Apte, along with magazines like Stree. "They were kept in trunks. I loved opening them to read," she says. When her mother, Ruth, died suddenly, nine-year-old Jerusha escaped into fiction even as the voice of Kumar Gandharva wafted from the gramophone. "My father, John, had an ear for music." At her Marathi-medium school in Pandharpur—where her father was posted—a teacher named Talekar made grammar feel simple and magical. Later, in 1942, after a move to Karad, she insisted on studying further and found herself the only Jewish student at Pune's SP College, where her sari-clad presence turned heads. The year she began pursuing a BA in Marathi, two new subjects were introduced: Linguistics and Grammar. A fan of writers such as V S Khandekar, she wrote stories for the college magazine. Encouraged by her professor S M Mate, she topped not just her class but the college. After a brief stint teaching in a primary school, she returned to do her MA. Post-Independence, Jerusha began teaching in a girls' school in Nashik, where she heard about a theatre manager called Daddy Shaikh from Marathi writer Vasant Kanetkar. Expecting an elderly man, she was surprised to meet Aziz Ahmed—young, strapping and, to her, instantly captivating. "My father was opposed to the match. Jews and Muslims have a chequered history." But she stood her ground. Three days after the Indian constitution came into force, the couple married in court. "There was no pressure to convert. The in-laws were progressive. The sister-in-law, Zubeida Shaikh, was India's first Muslim woman MBBS," says Phaltankar, co-author of Shaikh's gaurav granth—a book of honour marking her century. "While registering our marriage, we took an oath: 'I belong to no religion'," says Shaikh, who changed only her name after marriage. Sion's SIES College was still under construction in 1962 when Marathi department head S P Bhagwat offered her a teaching post. By then a mother of two, Shaikh moved with her family to Chembur. On her first day, students expecting a burqa-clad professor were stunned to see a woman with permed hair in a sari. During the 1965 Indo-Pak war, six students shouted "Pakistani" as she entered a lift. "I complained to the principal. He scolded them," recalls Shaikh. Maharashtra was a toddler when she became a member of the Marathi Sahitya Mahamandal, a committee formed to formalize Marathi grammar. When the committee came up with 18 grammatical rules and guidelines by 1972, Shaikh wrote a book demystifying these principles. Invited to teach Marathi grammar to IAS aspirants after retiring, her classroom spawned names such as Mumbai's municipal commissioner Bhushan Gagrani and Pune-based income tax commissioner Sangram Gaikwad. "Their progress is my real inheritance," she says, as Phaltankar shows a letter of gratitude from Gagrani. "Even when her husband was in the ICU in 2002, she didn't miss the deadline," says Bhanu Kale about the centenarian who proofread his monthly magazine 'Antarnaad' for 15 years. Sleepless after her husband's demise, Shaikh buried herself into the nitty-gritty of matras and anusvars. Even today, typos gnaw at her like pebbles in a rice plate. "I can't help it," frowns Shaikh, who spends hours reading and responding to grammar queries from across the world. We ask for an autograph. It says in Marathi: "Love your mother tongue."

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store