The Keeper Of The Faith
Early every Sunday morning, the bells at the Armenian Church on Armenian Street in George Town ring out like those in the other churches of Madras. But the similarity stops there. The huge panelled doors of the church remain locked.
And in the almost holy silence pervading the spacious churchyard shaded with scores of trees, a solitary figure by the church begins reciting a prayer in a strange tongue. For George Eliazar Gregorian, the church’s caretaker, this Sunday prayer has been a must, a sacred ritual for the last thirty years! A prayer for Armenians around the world from the last Armenian in Madras.
If the Armenian Church of Virgin Mary stand today a proud relic of Madras’ 340-year link with the merchant Armenian community, it is largely due to the efforts of this one man. Ironically, George Gregorian is not a native of Madras. Nor did he have any previous links with it, when he came to the city 30 years ago in 1964.
His has been a mission of love, born out of a heartfelt desire to preserve the history and traditions of his people. His life, a truly multifaceted one, has borne testimony to his grit and determination — not to mention preserving a vital part of the city’s past.
George Gregorian was born on June 28, 1913 in Persia (Now Iran). His father worked in an oil company. George was the second in his family; he had an elder sister and younger brother. When the World War 1 broke out, there was an exodus. His earliest childhood memories include one of a long and arduous camel trek made from Persia to Bombay!
His family stayed in Bombay for a year before moving to Calcutta where his uncles were. His father left for Persia shortly afterwards and never returned; he died there in 1936. Gregorian’s childhood wasn’t an easy one. He studied at St. Joseph’s, Calcutta and was then transferred to the Armenian College and Philanthropic Academy to complete his education (and learn his native tongue!). Here his education ended abruptly when his uncles sent him to learn the ropes of the family cotton and jute business.
After a short stint in the business, he went to work as a cotton agent in a British firm in Chittagong. He was there till the World War II broke out, when the company wound up. He then put in stints with the American Red Cross, the Ordnance Factores in Dum Bum, Ishapore and Cossipore and in the Gun and Shell factory.
The post-war years saw an exodus of Armenians from India. Feeling alienated in an independent India, they fanned out across the globe to the U.K., Australia and America.
Like them, Gregorian too set his sights on life in the West. He left for England with his family in 1955, but after spending half a decade there, he began to feel his homeland calling. “My roots are in India,“ says Gregorian, with a touch of pride. So, having settled his children in Britain, he returned to India in the early Sixties.
The Armenian Association in Calcutta had, in December 1962, taken over the trusteeship of the Armenian Church in Madras from King and Patridge, the lawyers. Gregorian was at the time working in Calcutta. His uncle Martin Martyrose, a member of the Armenian Association, suggested he go to Madras and take over the church as its caretaker. No mean task for one who was past his prime in life. “I had never been to Madras and had to begin a new life here — on Rs. 350 a month!”
He arrived in Madras on August 20, 1964 with his wife Joan. To his dismay, he found the entire place in shambles. The church was in a state of disrepair, the land was barren and the finances were in a deplorable state. They were long overdue rents, matured deposits and legal hassles to contend with. For George Gregorian, it was going to be an uphill task.
“When we came here, we made friends — and enemies, “ he recollects, with a twinkle in his eye. “ But we built this place up from scratch and restored it to its former glory”.
Today, the Armenian Church is everything that Gregorian says it is and more. The Church today stands tranquil and majestic, set in a well laid-out garden. The adjacent cemetery with its tombstones in the quaint Armenian script stands today a reminder of 300 and more years of Armenian history in Madras.
Buried in the cemetery is Haruthian Shmavonian, the world’s first Armenian journalist and editor of the first Armenian journal Azadarar. At the time of writing, the Department of Post has plans to release a postage stamp on Shmavonian. (This follows a report in Madras Musings on Shmavonian!)
Despite his advancing age, Gregorian carries on his work. Apart from being the Caretaker, Vestry Officer and Sexton of the church, he is also the Honorary Secretary of the Armenian Association. For the last three and a half years, he as been single handedly maintaining the church property. He sweeps the church yard and maintains the garden for want of proper help.
“Hard work never killed a man or a woman!” he insists. And adds “Being happy with your work helps too”.
A raconteur, Gregorian is always ready with a quip or anecdote. All things Armenian are dear to him. His sketches of Armenians and Bible scenes hang all over the church annexe. He peppers his conversation with a curious mix of old world wisdom, wit and acerbity. A deeply religious man, Gregorian believes in the all-pervasive power of prayer: “It is the key to the day and the lock to the night!”
A big question mark, however, hangs over the future of the church. Gregorian hopes to visit Calcutta by the end of the year to find a successor. A worthy one at that. Having spent thirty years of his life in the service of the Armenian Church in Madras, he is determined to see it live on as a part of the city’s history.
One fact stands out very strongly about this man who has built his life around all things Armenian. He has never visited Armenia! “That I intend to do some day, my friend,” he tells me with a faraway look in his eyes.
Until then, he remains George Eliazar Gregorian, the Caretaker, the Custodian, the Last of the Madras Armenians. Above all, he remains very simply: The Keeper of The Faith.
Joseph’s Note: The Keeper of the Faith appeared in the August 16–31 1994 issue of Madras Musings edited and published by Mr. S. Muthiah, who commissioned this story. I reproduce it with acknowledgement and gratitude here. It was one of my best stories ever — it helped shape my writing especially in the area of profile writing.
In March 2020, more than 25 years after I first met George Gregorian and his wife Joan, I visited the Armenian Church again on the bustling Armenian Street at Chennai’s business district near its Harbour.
Walking into the courtyard, I found it standing with the same majestic silence that George and Joan Gregorian worked to hard to revive and celebrate as a memory of his people. By now, George and Joan were memories. And, the Armenian Church they so loved stood strong into the 21st century — defying any question marks on its future.
And now, for your thoughts on this story that began in Armenia, unfolded in Chennai that was Madras and unveiled itself in the glow of your screen.
Source:
https://madrasmusings.com/older-archives/Vol%204/Vol%20IV%20-%20No%2009.pdf
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