It’s a rainy December evening, and an autorickshaw driver in Chennai looks puzzled as a visitor from Delhi, unfamiliar with the city, asks to be taken to Anna Salai.
“Where?” the driver asks, perplexed by the name. The passenger repeats, “Anna Salai”.
There’s a moment of confusion, before the passenger adds, “Higginbotham’s Bookshop.”
Instantly, the auto driver’s face lights up. “Ah, you mean Mount Road!” he says, and gestures for the passenger to hop in and drives off, reaffirming what every Chennai resident knows — that the old names of streets remain an essential part of the city’s identity, even if their official names have changed.
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This phenomenon isn’t unique to Chennai alone: across India, major streets in megacities have been renamed to reflect shifting political and cultural priorities. Park Street in Kolkata, for instance, was rechristened “Mother Teresa Sarani”; Marine Drive, synonymous with Mumbai, became “Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Marg”; and New Delhi’s colonial-era shopping arcade, Connaught Place, was renamed “Rajiv Chowk”.
Decades later, these new names have failed to catch on in everyday conversations. Mount Road is still Mount Road, Park Street refuses to yield to “Mother Teresa Sarani”, and Connaught Place continues to be “CP”.
Why do old names persist? Urban experts and cultural historians argue that old street names persist because they are more than just markers on a map — they represent a city’s identity, history, culture, and collective memory, shaping how people experience and navigate their cities.
“Names like Park Street, Mount Road or Marine Drive evoke not just physical spaces but also shared memories—of social gatherings, historical events, or iconic moments in cinema and literature,” said urban designer Dikshu Kukreja.
“In such cases, official renaming often feels disconnected from the lived experiences of the residents. The persistence of old names reflects people’s emotional and cultural connection with their cities, highlighting a bottom-up relationship rather than top-down administrative control,” Kukreja said.
“The decision of people not to adopt new names is a conscious act of rebellion—a rejection of quasi official instructions,” said well-known writer Amit Chaudhuri, who has written several book including Calcutta: Two Years in The City, a personal and evocative exploration of Kolkata, blending memoir, history, and cultural observation.
Vivek Kumar, who teaches sociology at Jawaharlal Nehru University, said that cultural symbols develop over time and cannot simply be erased from collective memory overnight. “Renaming is a political and ideological decision and cannot override deep cultural connections,” he said.
Anwesha Ghosh, who teaches social sciences and specialises in colonial urban development at the National Law School of India University, Bangalore, agreed.
“The production of space is a deeply political act, and naming is central to this process. Political here means a form of representation—naming something is a way of ascribing an identity to it. If you look at how street names in Delhi have changed over the past decade, you’ll notice a larger ideological shift where certain names have been erased to recognize others. But more than the renaming itself, it is the deliberate act of erasing a past legacy that begs more attention,” she said.
“Names bear our associations with a place that endure much after they have been officially changed. I haven’t come across a single individual who calls Park Street by its new name.”
Street names: A colonial enterprise
The naming of streets began as a colonial practice driven by political, cultural, and cartographical reasons. During the British rule, streets were named after monarchs, viceroys, and prominent colonial officers as symbols of power and authority
“Official names for roads were introduced when municipal corporations in major cities were established in the 1870s-80s. The need to create detailed city maps, streets required proper names. So, the process of mapping and naming streets developed together as part of organizing and governing urban spaces,” said urban historian Pratyush Shankar, the provost of Navrachana University, Vadodara, whose recent book “History of Urban Form of India” explores the material history of Indian cities, tracing their formation and layered pasts to show how history shapes contemporary urbanism.
After Independence in 1947, the renaming of streets became part of a broader effort to reclaim national identity and erase colonial legacies.
For example, in Delhi, “Kingsway” became “Rajpath”, and “Queensway” became “Janpath”. Over time, more roads were renamed: Curzon Road was rechristened Kasturba Gandhi Marg, Ratendone Road became Amrita Shergil Marg, and Kitchener Road was renamed Sardar Patel Marg. Similarly, in Mumbai, Chennai, and Bangalore, numerous streets have been renamed over the decades.
“The names of most of the important streets in Chennai have been changed over the years without respect for the fact that they hold personal associations for people. It’s important to understand that old street names are an integral part of the city’s intangible heritage, offer a sense of place and carry a story,” said architect Sujatha Shankar, the convener of INTACH’s Chennai chapter.
Indeed, Chennai’s iconic Mount Road, for instance. Originally named after St Thomas Mount—a hill where St Thomas, the apostle of Jesus, is believed to have been martyred—the road was developed during the British colonial era and continues to become a bustling business thoroughfare with major corporate offices lining it.
In 1969, it was renamed Anna Salai in honour of former Tamil Nadu Chief Minister CN Annadurai.
Similarly, in Bengaluru, Mission Road was named after the London Missionary Society, which was active in the city since the 1820s. In 1841, a seminary was established here, which later became the first home of the United Theological College (UTC). The road was later renamed P Kalinga Rao Road.
“While people respect local heroes, it’s equally important to acknowledge and preserve a city’s layered history,” Shankar adds.
Renamed, yet officially unforgotten
In some cases, even municipal corporations have seemingly forgotten that they renamed streets.
Controversy broke in 2014 when Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike (BBMP) officials put up a road signboard identifying Mission Road by its popular name, instead of its official name P Kalinga Rao Road. The corporator who oversaw the installation admitted she was unaware that the road had been officially renamed in 1991.
Similarly, in central Delhi, some sign boards put by NDMC still identify Connaught Place as Connaught Place.
Atul Bhargava, president of the New Delhi Traders Association (NDTA), said, “Most of our communications, even from some government agencies, still refer to Connaught Place as Connaught Place… No shopkeeper here has ever adopted the new name, and you won’t find a single shop signboard referring to it as Rajiv Chowk. Connaught Place represents a certain brand value and ethos, and we’ve worked hard over the decades to create it. Rajiv Chowk for us is just the name of a metro station here.”
The great ‘survivors’
In Delhi, some names drawn from India’s colonial past, such as Hailey Road — named after William Malcolm Hailey, who was the first Chief Commissioner of Delhi in 1912 — and Chelmsford Road, named after British viceroy Lord Chelmsford, have survived.
Ellis Road in Chennai is among the few roads that have survived renaming sprees after opposition from people. The road is named after Francis Whyte Ellis, a British civil servant and respected Tamil scholar, who translated “Thirukkural”, one of the greatest classics of the language. Similarly, the renaming of Norton Road was opposed due to its association with Eardley Norton, a barrister who championed civil liberties and rights for local people.
“Cities are centres of civilization, and they strive to preserve it. When we experience a space, we are also experiencing its past. This also poses a complex challenge to students of urban history,” said Shankar.
Several educational institutions and clubs, such as the IITs Bombay and Madras, the University of Calcutta, and Calcutta Club, among others have remained unchanged. “These names symbolise institutional excellence, and their retention acknowledges history while preserving the institutions’ enduring identity. Not all colonial legacies are viewed as oppressive; some are integral to modern India’s narrative, reflecting continuity and pride in these institutions’ achievements,” Kukreja said.
However, Kumar offered a different perspective.
“It is the question of micro vs macro-objectives. Politicians are fine with such coexistence because their larger objectives have been met. The macro-objective was renaming Madras to Chennai, for larger Tamil identity for the city rather than the identity of a particular place. This is why institutions like IIT Madras can coexist within Chennai,” he said.
“Great cities are not just for locals; they embody a cosmopolitan character—diverse and inclusive, where multiple identities and names can coexist. In today’s globalized world, where technology connects us to the cultures of cities worldwide, a city need not strive for a singular identity,” says Shankar.
Has the renaming of so many streets affected Kolkata’s identity as a city? No, said Chaudhuri.
“Colonial figures tied to the names are not a primary concern of the people. These street names have simply become embedded in their memory, internalised over time. The new names may gain traction only if the moral imperative shifts, but it’s unlikely in the near future,” Chaudhuri said.