The Danish Connection

August 4, 2010 at 11:24 am (Andersen Roots) (, , )

My Days in Danishpet

By Joan Louisa Andersen White
Wellington, New Zealand
July 2003

There are times in all our lives when we look back to the days of our childhood and wish we could have them all over again! I say this because I was one of those very fortunate children who had such an interesting and diverse life as a child, and as I grew up.

Escape to Danishpet

“The Andersen Family”
Back: Theodor, Ian, Olive, Gottlob, and Richard Phillips
Front: Ellen, Jessica (my mom), Winnifred, Richard (Ben), Bernie, Julianna (known as Julie or Julia), and Konrad

Although I lived most of my life in a boys’ school, at holiday time my parents were always able to ‘escape’ from the confines… if I can call them that! … of the school atmosphere and pressues, and take a road that led them to a place where we were all able to relax and really enjoy the peace and quiet of the South Indian countryside. And that place, to all of us that were able to go to and ‘escape’ was called Danishpet, and still is to this day. I, as one of the Andersen family, am very proud of this fact!

It was so named because my paternal grandfather was a Danish missionary by the name of Rev. Morten Andersen who, with his second wife, Ellen (formely D’Abreu), who was one of the first three lady doctors in India, settled there in about 1893.

They were the founders of what we could call a Mission Station. The former South Indian name of the railway station was Kadiumpati, but that was changed to honour my grandfather and has remained so.

From what my father, Richard (called Ben) and his sister, Julia, told me about their early lives on the farm, my grandparents had a very hard life, living in small thatched huts. My grandfather cut down the forest trees, cactus, lantana, and other wild shrubs that covered the thousand acres of land that the Indian Government had sold him cheaply on condition that he clear it. While he was doing this, my grandmother, being a doctor, by very slow degrees worked patiently and with a great deal of caring to make the nearby village people realise that she was there to heal them and make their way of life a better one.

The Homestead

As soon as he was able to, my grandfather built a large home for his growing family and for his sister, Johanne Andersen, who had come out from Denmark with him and never left. We called her ‘Tante’ (Aunty) and she was a very special person in all our lives.

With Besta Fa’er (grandfather) and Besta Mo’er (grandmother) and Tante in my life when we went to Danishpet for our holidays… with Aunty Julie working with the London Missionaries in Salem, 25 miles away, and coming ‘home’ from time to time… this is where my time for remembering my childhood starts… at about the age of five.

I remember that we had to make the journey to Danishpet by train as that was the most sensible at the time, as the school car was a Model “T” Ford! It really was a picnic on the train. The lovely sujee halva that Mummy used to make, plus the egg sandwiches, were sufficient as it was not too long a run to Jalarpet, where we waited not too long before the train from Madras came along to take us to Danishpet and the continue on to Salem and the south.

Joan Andersen in a Bullock Cart

At the station we would be met by Aunty Julie, mostly, and some of the senior people from the village and – most necessarily – a bullock cart to transport us ‘ladies’ through the Big River with our luggage. Daddy used to walk, having removed his collar and tie as soon as he put foot on the railway station platform. The only did he feel fully relaxed and on holiday! Ready for the two mile walk!

I have a recollection of Besta Fa’er sitting at the smaller table in the dining room, smoking his cigar. Daddy told me that he and Uncle Tedo (Theodor Andersen) were caught trying to smoke one of Besta Fa’er’s cigars, so he gave them one each and made them smoke them through to the bitter end. As you can imagine, they didn’t try to smoke again… ever! I also remember that Besta Fa’er had a big horse called Bessie, and I remember having a ride on her in front of Besta Fa’er. I also had quite a few tastes of the freshly cooked horse-gram from the horse’s bag! It tasted wonderful! Daddy had a horse, too, called Horsie-cutie, the foal of the horse I used to drag around, feed, and harass.

Joan Andersen on Bessie

As for Besta Mo’er, I really don’t remember her very much, but I have a faint recollection of her calling me Joanie. Whenever I got hurt or cut my finger or something, I would go to her and she would paint the hurt with a feather dipped in iodine.

What I do remember very clearly is Besta Mo’er sitting in Tante’s room late at night and dressing, by lantern light, the bad ulcer that she had on one of her shins. It never healed. Uncle Tedo or Aunty Julie did it for her after Besta Mo’er died in 1932, the year after Besta Fa’er. Strangely enough, they both died in Aunty Connie and Uncle Newton;s bedroom, in the Boys’ School. Daddy had brought each of them in turn to Bangalore for medical aid. As I was six or seven years of age, I remember being around when it all happened and, in turn, Daddy had to take their bodies back to Danishpet for burial.


As I mentioned earlier, Tante was a very special person in all our lives. No matter who was living in the Homestead, she was always the same – a tall, quiet person that we all loved. She had always spoken Danish to the family, and that was what Daddy, Aunty Julie, and Uncle Tedo spoke to her, but we all knew that she understood English, because of the little smile that would appear at times when one of us said something that amused her.

I was about four or five when Daddy and Mummy first took me to Danishpet and it would probably have been at Christmas time. My grandparents were still alive – that was 1930. This is what I remember, but maybe they had taken me there when I was younger, because there is a photograph of me on my grandfather’s lap at an earlier age. Anyway, that was the first time I remember seeing them all, and then the following year Besta Fa’er died, followed by Besta Mo’er in 1932, so I didn’t really have much time to get to know them. But Tante was there and I got to share a great deal of my time with her on those earlier years.

Tante Johanne with the flock, in her garden.

That was a very special time for me, because Tante looked after feeding the dogs (at least two or three), the cats and their kittens, and all the cocks, hens, and chickens which used to roam everywhere until Uncle Tedo, I think, fenced them into a very large yard. This is where I “helped” Tante. I used to go to her rooms in the middle area of the Homestead, where she kept everything – and I mean everything! Grain – various types in various sacks – and everything that was collectable: string, pieces of wool, wood… you name it, she had it! She collected banana skins, papaya skins, whatever was left over from our meals that could be fed to the fowls, etc, and she would painstakingly cut everything up. And that’s where I came into the picture: she would measure out the grain, etc, and I would be allowed to feed the chickens and hens and any other birds that happened to want a share as well. When I was a bit older, I was allowed to collect the eggs.

She also looked after what we called the dairy side of things. We had our own cows, and it was she who received the milk, boiled it, collected the cream, and made the butter. Daddy enjoyed the buttermilk when he came back from his long morning walks. She made a big bowl of yoghurt for us to have at lunchtime; and I remember once when Bennie Weston was there on holiday, he loved Tante’s yoghurt so much that he was almost emptying the bowl himself. She called out in English, “Halt!” and had us all in histerics. He didn’t do that again!

She was also our coffee maker. The coffee was grown on the hillside around the Danish Mission Church on the lower slopes of the Sheveroy Hills, below Visranthi, and Rev. Hansen, Besta Fa’er’s friend, had a coffee estate. That’s where our coffee beans probably came from. Anyway, the last thing at night, when Mummy, Daddy, and I were on our way to bed on our rooms at the entrance end of the Homestead, we would pass the small window in Tante’s smaller back room and hear her grinding the coffee beans to have the beautiful fresh coffee on the breakfast table the next morning. She did that for as long as she was able to; and only after that task was done did she go to her bedroom on the other side of the big verandah, and get to bed, only to wake early the next day to do all the many, many tasks that she did with such patience, love, and devotion to the family for the forty years that she spent on the farm.

At this moment, I am thinking of her special love – her garden –  which we always called “Tante’s Garden” and in which she spent many an hour. Each plant she had planted, she tended with loving care, and there was many a time when I helped in the watering of it. It was a magic place and we will always remember it as a very special garden that we shared with her. A story has come down that one night, near midnight, she was out there in her garden with a lantern and her watering can, watering a particular plant that she had forgotten to water earlier in the evening! Such was her devotion…


Before I go any further up my childhood ladder, I would like to share with you the “adventure” – if I could call it that – when we all used to go up to Visranthi, the house that Besta Fa’er had built as a summer cottage for Besta Mo’er and the family as it used to get very hot as the Homestead in the summer.

It was not very far from Tabor, the house he had built for the Danish Mission and in which he had lived with the family before he left the Mission.

At about four o’clock in the morning the villagers would arrive to help us get up to Visranthi before it became too hot. “Us” meant, most times, Mummy, Aunty Julie, myself, Daddy, and sometimes Maymie. We got the food-stuffs, etc, ready the night before and then, by petromax light, we would be carried up through the eleven mile valley in canvas hammocks with two poles through the two sides carried by four of the villagers.

Winnifred Andersen (Joan’s Mom) in her hammock

It didn’t take us very long to get to the railway station, three miles away, where we would have a rest stop before going to the foothills and then up the beautiful, but very steep valley. Daddy always walked up while we were carried; but in his younger days he used to ride a horse up and down between Danishpet and Visranthi.

This route was a very steep one and so a road for cars, busses, and carts could not be built. These vehicles had to use what we called the Yercaud Road, which was also called the “Circular Road” because it ran right around the base on the Sheveroy Hills, at one point met the short-cut route at a T-junction and then carried on to Yercaud, three miles away from this T-junction. At that time (about 1931-2 or so) the road was very bad and the roads up to Visranthi, Tabor, and the coffee estates were just narrow cart tracks. In later years these were widened and much improved so that cars could go right up to Tabor and along the road to Visranthi – which Jean, Bernard, Ginny, Jillian, and myself were able to do in 1976.

The summers up at Visranthi were beautiful. As I grew older, I went for walks with Daddy through the coffee estates, up and over the summits of the hills that surrounded the main one, the Sheveroin peak, at the base of which Visranthi stood.

Tante would remain at Danishpet to look after the animals. Each day she would send us up, by one of the villagers, fresh milk, eggs, and bread (the bread supplied by Spencer & Co, Madras, and sent daily on the train and collected for the family at the railway station). In later years, these were purchased at the weekly “shandy” or market at Yercaud.

Aunty Julie

Through all these childhood years, I must say that Aunty Julie played a very important part in my life, although I didn’t see her very often, except the times when we shared so many holidays at Danishpet and up at Visranthi, when Maymie came too.

I remember one summer holiday when both of them were staying at Tabor (now occupied by Rev. and Mrs. Hansen from Denmark – old friends of my grandfather and grandmother) and I was being very naughty, not letting them have their afternoon rest. Maymie said, “I’ll smack you!” and I answered, “Smack me! Smack me!” in a very cheeky tone of voice. So, for the first time and I think the only time in my life, I got three good smacks from Maymie with the underside of her hairbrush. I have never forgotten that! Nor did I worry them again! I loved Maymie and Aunty Julie so very much – they were the two “almost” Mums in my life.

Before she married, and when she was not working at the London Mission in Salem, and before Uncle Tedo married, Aunty Julie would look after the household. That is, she was in charge of all the wonderful meals we had, was a wonderful cook, looked after the dogs and cats with the help of a village boy who was trained to do the “inside” work and do the washing up, cleaning, etc. She also trained the various cooks that we had. There was also the dhobi that came from miles away, once a week, and did all the ironing on the Big Verandah. There was no electricity there until 1961 and so he used the huge charcoal iron.

Yes! This was life on the farm, and there was never a dull moment. I can picture Aunty Julie sitting on the steps of the Big Verandah and feeding a blind hen. Only Aunty Julie would do that! And only Aunty Julie read me all those stories from Grimm’s Fairy Tales, told me stories about Chicken-Licken, and all the others. She was the one that dressed me up in saris so that I could walk along the verandah like a little village girl with a brass pot on my head. What happy days those were, and I shall never forget them.

Christmas at Danishpet

But what I must tell you about, before I go any further, are the very special Christmas celebrations at the Homestead. We would spend one Christmas with the Weston family and the next with the Andersen family at Danishpet.

I remember especially Christmas Eve when we had out little service in the Big Verandah, according to Danish custom, joined by the house servants and their families. daddy would read us the Christmas Story and say a special prayer and then he and Aunty Julie and Uncle Tedo, if he was there, would sing a couple hymns in Danish; and then all the gifts would be handed out. Tante was there with us at these special times and I shall always remember them. We always brought in Christmas on Christmas Eve, too, when I grew up and had my own family.

What was also very special, to all the Danishpet village people and their families, was what happened after our family service…

Because there was not very many people in the village in those early days, most of them Christian converts and their children, we were able to buy big tins of sweets and lots of pieces of useful clothing, enough for each and every member of those families. Shirts or dhotis for the men and bigger boys, saris and cholis for the women; and suitable little-sized frocks, shirts, etc, for the very little ones. We would leave the Homestead after dinner and, with out house servants (who had already received their gifts), go in a procession with lantern and petromax light, to the village; and there we would distribute all the gifts that we had bought.

As the years went by, the population grew and things became more and more expensive. So, very gradually, as far as I remember, we had to stop what we had been doing for so many years. But I shall never forget the happy faces and so may grateful smiles that we received from those very simple and hardworking villagers. Some of the older ones had known me since I was a baby and one of the older women used to call me her “cuna cuti” which meant, I think, “baby calf”.

The Village Workers

When I was a little girl, I remember these same village women coming to the bungalow to boil all the rice that would be used by the family for the year. They would then spread it along side verandahs and, when it was all dry, they would have to pound it and so there was many a time when I “helped” them. This pounding separated the husk from the grain and then it had to be sieved; and in this activity I became quite the expert!

Joan with her father, Richard (Ben), walking in the paddy fields.

In the spirit of doing what the villagers sis, as I grew older and went for all those wonderful walks with Daddy though the paddy fields, I was able to “help” at harvest time – cut the paddy with the little curved knife the women used, bundle it up like they did, and then carry on behind the men to the threshing grounds where I would stack my bundle along with all the hundreds of others. I’d also help in the hand-threshing that was done by the men and put through the huge sieves. But jumping about on the high stacks of rice bundles – though fun while I did it – left me itching all over. Didn’t do much of that!

In those early days on the farm where was a lot of land and their daily needs were met. The cows provided milk, butter, cheese, and yoghurt; the hens provided eggs; and the fields provided rive and vegetables. But there was not much money. As the years went by, things improved. Daddy, teaching by then, sent small amounts of money to the tenants on his land and, as the water level was pretty high because of the rivers, they were able to dig wells and grow rice and other irrigated crops.

I must mention that at this time, when I went on those walks with Daddy, I spent many an hour standing, listening, and watching all that was going on at each well. Finally, every one of his tenants had a well and so was able to support his family and didn’t have to just “exist” in the lean years when there was no rain.

Yes, looking back on those very happy hours that I spent with my father, sharing those walks through the fields at Danishpet and through the coffee plantations around Visranthi, and walking to the top of the Sheveroin Hill, looking over the valleys down to the Danishpet area – those were very special times in my life and I am so glad that I was able to be there with him.

Progress at Danishpet

Things were progressing… but there was no electricity there at Danishpet! We managed with our kerosene lanterns and a couple of petromax lights. The roofs were still thatched, except for the big verandah, and so there were all kinds of things in the roof, on the floors, and around the house – like centipedes, scorpions, and the occasional cobra… Aunty Julie had one behind her sewing maching in her bedroom… and I remember how the screech owls would scare me half to death as they settled in an opening in the high eaves of the room I slept in, next to Mummy and Daddy’s room. When I was young, there was still no indoor toilets and so a visit to the small “House of Parliment”, as we called it, was quite scary when it was dark and you had to take a lantern to light your way. But we managed!

Theodor Bonneland Andersen
(My grandfather)

Soon after the deaths of my grandparents, Uncle Tedo (Daddy’s younger brother, Theodor) came back from Cornell University (USA) where he had spent time studying agriculture. I have this faint recollection of the day that Uncle Tedo came back from America… it has suddenly come to me! Aunty Julie was in the room as well, while Uncle Tedo was unpacking his cabin trunk by the light of the lantern, and things were scattered all over the room. It was in what had been my grandparents’ bedroom and there were lots of bits of rubber, somehow, lying around. He had come back by cargo ship, as far as I remember.

He decided he was going to cultivate his portion of the land, across the road from the railway station and extending over a large area below the tank – mainly patty fields, but also other crops in other areas. And so another era at Danishpet began. Things changed a lot on his return.

He settled down to living there in Danishpet again, and the next thing that I remember about him was that he was in Bangalore and, in a week, had met and got engaged to a Miss Olive Nagel, who was a teacher in the Baldwin Girls High School (where Maymie was Headmistress, I think, at the time), and before long they were married in the Methodist Episcopal Church in Richmond Town by Rev. MacCaughlin – “Mac” as he was called. I know this because I was flower girl at their wedding, and I was nearly 8 years of age.

Theodor and Olive Andersen
Saturday, December 9, 1933

So Olive Nagel became “Aunty Olive” to me when Uncle Tedo took her back to Danishpet to the Homestead, where we thought they would settle down and live their lives. But it didn’t turn out like that. The twins, Ellen and Gottlob, were born in 1934 and Aunty Olive had quite a hard time bringing them up, though Uncle Tedo made many alterations to their rooms to accomidate his family.

The Andersen Family
Theodor and Olive, with twins, Gottlob and Ellen

There was still Tante who had her two rooms next to theirs; and Aunty Julie, though working for the London Mission in Salem, came home most weekends and she had a room in the little cottage just apart from the main building, which we later called Mrs. Clayton’s Cottage (she was the mother of one of the men Uncle Tedo employed to help him on the farm – A Mr. Gaston from Bangalore). And then Uncle Tedo employed, as a clerk, Richard Phillips, who had been at Stanes School in Coimbatore and more or less had been brought up by Mr. Berry, the principal.

No one really knew anything about Richard Phillips, but before too long, Aunty Julie had fallen in love with him, and they wanted to get married. There was much opposition to the marriage from her two brothers and “The Aunties” as we called them (they were grandmother’s half-sisters, and very fond of Aunty Julie, and wanted the best for her). However, Aunty Julie, at 37 years of age, wanted a life of her own and her own share of happiness. So, early in January 1936, in the Big Verandah, Aunty Julie married Richard Phillips and he became Uncle Phil to me.

Richard and Julianna Phillips
with niece, Joan Andersen

In the meantime, Uncle Tedo had built a large home for his family on the other side of the Big River, which also ran through his land, having its source in the hills below the Sheveroys, and which let water into the Tank on his land. It was also the source of the irrigation for his and other fields lower down its course. This home he called Summerville, and for a short time, Aunty Olive and the twins lived with him in it. Then Jessica was born, but things were not going so well with the twins, who came down with malaria very badly. Aunty Olive told Uncle Tedo that she wanted to go live in Coonoor, in the Nilgiris, where it was cooler and there were no mosquitoes. So Uncle Tedo moved them up to Coonoor, and as far as I remember, it was for five years that Uncle Tedo stayed on his own in Danishpet, with visits to Coonoor to see his family, till he finally moved there too.


Ellen, Gottlob, and Jessica Andersen

In his own way, Uncle Tedo played a part in my childhood, too. I remember one Christmas, when we arrived, we found he had built a little boat and named it “Joan”, which name he changed to “Olive” when he married Aunty Olive. This boat was used a lot during our holidays. We used to walk all the way to the Tank, me pushing a little cart with our swimming costumes, towels, etc. He’d put together a wodden frame, taped it like the beds were done, and then produced two large wheels from an old family pram, which he attached to the frame. And so I did quite a few miles as the “coolie” for Mummy, Daddy, Aunty Olive, Aunty Julie, and Uncle Tedo.

Anyway, we had a boat, so we were able to have swims in the secluded part of the Tank. Daddy was taught how to swim in that tank by the waterman called Chinnappa and then, in turn, Daddy taught me how to swim. As the water that came into the Tank was fresh river water, it was fairy clean and there was a very nice overflow when we had heavy rains and the Tank filled up.

I remember that Uncle Tedo dived in from the sluice gate one evening with his glasses on, and they fell off. So, being Uncle Tedo, he went back the next morning, early, dived in at the same place, and found them. That’s the kind of person he was. Very mechanically minded – he really should have been an engineer. I say this because I remember that a huge pump for one of his huge wells fell into the well and let there for quite a while. He really needed it, so he fixed pulleys with strong ropes and, with some strong men to help him, the pump was raised to the top of the well and, in due course, he had cleaned and oiled it and got it back in perfect working condition.

Once, when I was quite young, there was flooding over parts of Daddy’s land, and so we had to cross that part of the river by climbing over a big tree that had fallen across the river. I think Daddy was with me, and I was quite scared, because the water was quite a bit higher than the land, but we made it. About this time, there was no other way across the river near Summerville, except by Uncle Tedo making me sit on the crossbar of his bicycle and cycling across a very narrow bridge. Yes, we made it, but I was scared. I had to trust him to take me safely across and I did, because he was the kind of person you could trust.

From what Daddy told me, he and Uncle Tedo were great mates and had a lot of fun when growing up on the farm. Uncle Tedo got a little chimpanzee from somewhere and made a pet out of it, but as time went by it became very destructive and started taking things. They found it walking down one side of the verandahs with Daddy’s best fountain pen that he thought he had lost. So the decision had to be made that the chimp was to be given to a zoo and, as at the time the Lal Bagh in Bangalore had one, that was where the chimp was accepted and looked after.

When Uncle Tedo had to go to Baldwin Boys’ School as a boarder, there wasn’t very much money, so Daddy, who was teaching at the time, helped with the fees. Daddy himself had only one suit which he would wash and wear, and put between the mattresses to “iron”. Also, he didn’t have a full shirt, so Besta Mo’er made him two false sleeves and cuffs and a false shirt front – and with these he managed for as long as was possible.

When Uncle Tedo felt he could not live in Danishpet on his own, he left his land – about 600 acres (Daddy had about 150 acres and Aunty Julie about 50 acres, as far as I remember) – to good tenants. He went up to Coonoor and got a job as manager of Hallacarry Estate, about seven miles out of Coonoor. And so, for a while they were all settled, with the children attending a nearby school as day scholars. Then Konrad was born – in the back seat of the car when Uncle Tedo was taking Aunty Olive to the maternity hospital in Coonoor! Quite an adventure for them all.

Konrad Jonathan Bonneland Andersen

While we were there for one of our holidays, I met all my cousins and that was the last time, because soon after they had grown a bit, Uncle Tedo decided to sell his land, which he did. He wanted just over a lakh of rupees for his 100 acres of excellent paddy fields, but in the end, he couldn’t wait and had to seel them for 95,000 rupees.

They went to England first, and had great difficulty getting into Canada, but in the end got in on their Danish passports. After a winter there, they loved to California, leaving Ellen in Canada for medical reasons. She married there and lived in Quebec with her family. The others settled on the west coast of the states, and my brother, Ian – now in Dallas – is in touch with them all and sees them from time to time. They visit him, Judith, and all the family members in the Texas area. And I must tell you that last month I spoke to Ellen (who was visiting Ian and Judith and the family in Dallas) for the first time since 18th January 1947. That was so good!

And now we all hope to get in touch with the American side of the Andersens. That’s something long overdue. We are quite a family, aren’t we?

Andersen Family @ Danishpet

Back row :
1. Winnifred Andersen
2. Richard (Ben) Andersen
3. Richard Phillips (Uncle Phil)
4. Not known (possibly Miss May Weston – Aunty Maymie)
5. Julie (nee Andersen) Phillips
6. Not known
Front row :
1. Not known
2. Joan Andersen aged about 14
3. Ian Indersen aged about 4
4. other little boy not known.


  1. alex said,

    Hi Julie I got into the blog by accident searching for DANISH PETT. I am a stamp collector , specialising in Denmark and aquired anearly Edward VII envelope 1906 addressed to Mrs E Andersen at Danish Pett Kaiitampadi .

    I wanted to find out what the Danish connection was . thanks to your blog I now Know.

    there is no letter with the envelope. To make sense of it as part of a display page in a stamp collection I would love to have a scan of the photo of Morten , Ellen & the three children from the article posted by you. I cannot down load it direct though I can copy bits of the text. Can you possibly send me a scan? ( private use not publication) regards Alex

    • E.Ilango said,

      The place San Thome named in the postmark on the letter, is a former Portuguese coastal colony in Mylapore village which was south of & near Madras(now called Chennai) in the state of Tamil nadu, south India & later became a part of it. It has the famous Roman Catholic church where St Thomas was buried, though it is doubted if he was the same as one of Christ’s disciples or another person with the same name. You may see websites on these. There are still some descendants of Portuguese who are registered as Anglo-Indians. If you ned any detail pl. write to my email id

    • Srinivasan said,

      Hi Alex Said,

      We are from Danispet village now..
      Can i get you contact email id?

  2. E.Ilango said,

    The place San Thome named in the postmark on the letter, is a former Portuguese coastal colony in Mylapore village which was south of & near Madras(now called Chennai) in the state of Tamil nadu, south India & later became a part of it. It has the famous Roman Catholic church where St Thomas was buried, though it is doubted if he was the same as one of Christ’s disciples or another person with the same name. You may see websites on these. There are still some descendants of Portuguese who are registered as Anglo-Indians. If you ned any detail pl. write to my email id

  3. ashok kumar.c said,

    Alex sir,i am ashok kumar.c from Danishpet i completed my civil engineering degree now i am working in private construction company.i need detials of the water storage tank.present days we are not getting proper rainfall and there is proper no facilites to store water.agriculture is wrost condition.pls send the detials

    • ramesh kumar said,

      Dear,ashok name is ramesh kumar.i am living in danishpet.i am doing my second year civil engineering at k.s.rangasamy college of technology.i want your details.

  4. Saravanan Saran said,

    Dear team, really i am happy to see this all. I am from Danishpet only. I am Saravanan D. no words to say …………. i am 100% happy to see my village old photos and your life style and all kindly keep up date if you have any extra things about danishpet……Thanks for all your support…..

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