When memories ran amok...

"Don't dwell on the past, live in the present." this preachy line, we frequently  get to hear these days on media by new age gurus. But often, I find myself questioning the above ....and my mind starts debating on that.

The arguments vacillate in support 'of' and 'against' the above statement.  Sometimes, I  think we are the products of our past and therin lies our foundation. Sometimes, I feel the unwanted baggage can hinder our life. Sometimes, I think,  Isn't introspection   the key to awareness?....so many such thoughts debate on my mind but finally the argument  for the support of nostalgia wins...... And Pray,  tell me...how can I not dwell on  my past  when i have made wonderful, unforgettable memories .... .and so I say,

Old is gold!..nostalgia is empowering!!....Old music is unbeatable !!!,.... heritage buildings are classic!!! ......dejavu is rejuvenating!!!

A song, fragrance, a building, a name, so many such things can evoke memories of loved ones separated by death or distance that the hours one spends thinking about such things suspends the present and one travels back to the past.

Mylapore,  a part of chennai town is one such place which strikes a chord and sends me on nostalgia lane. The very mention of that place name releases from me a lifetime of personal memories. 

During my recent trip, a visit to this place  turned me misty eyed with happiness. I made a visit to this place after some 16 years. 14 years back I visited the Kapali temple  alone which is the soul  of Mylapore, but this time, i went around the mada street, my grand parents home ( sold 17 years back), my mom and aunt's typewriting &shorthand class home, Veena class home( all were taught in homes only). The class cum home still stand hoarding the board. The bank next door, their family jewellers, Srividya manjal shop, the florist shop, appalam kadai, Aavin, Rasi silk store where I still remember my mami asking for the "manjalla yellow border kaatunga"( Show me the yellow with yellow border saree)  and how we cousins were laughing at her and she was looking askance at the salesman and us, not knowing why we were laughing. She did'nt realize she said manjal which in tamil means yellow.Every incident and memory that came alive during this visit felt like it happened just recently. 

 The maadi tailor who used to often get a good dose of scoldings from my aunt for not stitching on time. The pooja and garland store near kapali kovil where we deposited our chappals before the visit, the fights we cousins had at home with elders since we didnt want to accompany the elders to the temple,  Matthala narayanan street sweet stall,where we were sent to get the hot kaara sev snacks, The Bharatiya vidya bhavan where I was refused admission for 6 months, The kumaran school ( no more exists)..opposite Hindu chit fund where I studied for 6 months during my sister's birth., Karpagambal mess, kalathi shop, vijaya stores and ofcourse the Kapali kovil, Mundakanniamman koil .....Except for a few facelifts in the interior of these temples, the place looked frozen in time. . There are signs of decay on some buildings which only heightens the perception of continuity with the passing of time and lends an aura of heritage. Some buildings ofcourse have buckled to lifestyle changes and sport trendy looks. But all those glamour and sheen of the new buildings fade in front of the mildewed heritage stores and shops. 
                                 
 With the timing of my visit, I could tick off one more of my bucket list wish. It was on my wish list  to shop for the golu dolls after navaratri around the mada street( around the foot path of the temple) . These are temporary road stalls pitched only during navarathri selling clay dolls. With the golu over, the traditional dolls are sold at lesser rates. A win-win situation where the customer gets at cheap rates and the seller does'nt have to store the clay dolls till the next navaratri. 

Overall  a visit, where my emotional batteries were recharged.

Some pictures from the visit...

sannidhi street housing shops for traditional arts, crafts and weaves and on this lane lies oneof the famous Bharatnatyam dress needs shop which has  dance customers from all over the world.

 Gopura darisanam kodi punyam goes a tamil saying..meaning seeing a temple tower is equal to a crore good deeds. 

                           The ganesh temple as you enter kapali kovil

                                    Many childhood memories buried underneath the flooring of that pandal and that Rasi silks and Giri trading our regular shops..

                                     The flower shops enroute which doubles as free chappal depositary for mami and always the florist would ask mami "Nalla irukkenga akka?" ( are you fine, sister?)

                                 The make shift clay dolls sold during navaratri on the mada streets( the 4 streets around the temple)

Straight and left would take to my mom's school the famous "Lady sivasami aiyar girls high school", kalathi news paper mart famous for rose milk and which has appeared in many travel shows, karpagambal mess, mami kadai...all famous old time shops and mess on this street.

Some summer ramblings.......

Summer vacation time and another wave of nostalgia surfs up on the eve of puthandu (tamil new year) which were mostly spent in my Grand parents place 'Sri Ramana villa'.

 Almost  or always I am away from home on vacation since childhood .  During my childhood, When Bangalore was home , madras was my vacation spot and during my children’s childhood when Hyderabad was/is  home, Bangalore was/is my vacation spot.

And most of the time the vacation period is 2 months since my children too would have 2 months vacation and the husband too would be away on tours.  While it made sense to go from scorching Hyderabad to cooler Bangalore for vacation….i would always be made fun for travelling from Bangalore to the hot and humid Madras for summers during my childhood..

But did it matter to the  young me?

Not at all!   I have in fact played on the hot terrace of my grandparents home in the hot and humid weather with my cousins, aunts and uncles. What mattered was the company of my cousins,  and also the bonding shared with my aunts and uncles who had a  sense of belonging and  bonded with their nephews and neices  with a deep sense of responsibility.

Priceless lifetime memories and bondings were made over simple chores like filing thatha's papers, helping paati with churning butter or grinding batter with the traditional stone mortar, learning knitting, sewing,  helping mami put vaadam(fryums) on terrace, splashing water to cool the terrace, sleeping on the terrace listening to stories from perimma , gazing at the star spangled sky , jumping up to catch the beam of light from the lighthouse, eating ‘nila saapadu’ (moon light dinner), and then rushing from the terrace to the down floor at the stroke of ten when we heard the  soan papdi man ring his signature bell. When the saon papdi man  handed the wispy sweet  on a newspaper, we would longingly look at him for some more, the softy icecream and flavored milk  at aavin luz, the kaarasev rolled in lotus leaf from karpagambal sweet stall, the chocobar and sundal at beach…. , oh! so many such simple pleasures…the list is  endless.   or going to the nearby kapali temple, tagging along with chitti to her friends place and taking pride when she introduced us to her friends.  We had no instant digital cameras to capture the happenings and share, although a few of them have been shot by my mama in his sleek hotshot camera then. .Each task that I listed would make a lovely post especially the mottai madi happenings and the kapali koil tales.

Today when I think back, heat or humidity did not matter because life long bonds with cousins were made face to face and which are still remembered and reminisced by us . There was a communal sense of living with my aunts and uncles which has ofcourse now been replaced with “gated community” for kids. Today’s  kids rejoice in fancy hill stations or foreign trips and hop from one summer camp to another.  Cousins in most places have been replaced by friends and most of them are hooked on to fancy gizmos and gadgets.

Was I surprised when I recently saw a two year old comfortably seated on a sofa with one leg over another gazing at the digital screen.? No…. I am not surprised by the gizmo, gadget  and foreign vacation talk by the young kids any more and I am not surprised when teens handle DSLR with elan  or on highgrounds wrt elders when technology talks are on. After all from simple pleasure we have moved on to material pleasures and today’s parents too are indulging and pampering....... atleast most of the parents.

Today on eve of puthandu as I ramble about my summer memories,how much vacations have  changed and we have moved on…well..life has moved on atleast digitally and materialistically. EVen I find myself connecting digitally with my cousins, aunts and uncle more than face to face. I realize it is time to digitally detox atleast for a week. 

Do you often recollect your childhood memories especially if you have spent summer vacation at your grand parents place.? If yes, what did you do? please share....

An alumni meet triggers a few school memories

It was another one  of  husband's school alumni meet and he had to miss this time due to a priority work. But his friends had managed to webcast the same and I too joined to watch the fun. Many of his friends shared some of the school memories most of the strict punishments, warnings and other naughty pranks were fun to hear, One of his class mates narrated how hindi language was a night mare for him and he could not differentiate between sanskrit or hindi when recently somebody had forwarded a message to  him.  He also shared how once  his teacher asked him to make a sentence with " Prathi din" in hindi. and he a ttempted to make a sentence with  "prathi din mera janam din hai"  and felt accomplished only to realize its meaning later.  

Listening to their anecdotes, i was reminded of my own....for me kannada was a night mare, I had chosen this as my third language. A jobless neighbour uncle of ours helped me in class 4 and a few of our neigbhour kids during exam times  with  kannada and there was this lesson on Malaria where i had to read a sentence " sollegalanu dhoopadinda hodisabahudu" meaning you can chase mosquites with the fumes of dhoop. solle in kannada meant mosquito and i read it as Soole ( meaning prostitute) meaning prostitutes could be chased with dhoop. My neighbour uncle laughed heartily while i had a puzzled look ...... for long he  used to remember this and recalled in many gatherings till i grew old. He would say,   while he felt like scolding others for making mistakes...i would always get away for bringing such lighter moments. Another time he asked meaning of " Pragati" and i told him "gotthu uncle - i know uncle" confidently and said " kett buddhi" ( bad intelligence/knowledge) and sported a confident look...all these were fun moments in the small class. 

While my husband was telling he could not recall any of his school memorable moments( he has a very bad memory which i think is a blessing in many circumstances) ...my mind travelled back to the 70's and 80's to my school and college times...

Although i can't remember any of the incidents of LKG and UKG which i combinedly did for an year( 6 months each) at a small montessorie school opposite my home in Rajajinagar....i remember a memory vividly of my First standard. we then shifted to HAL in Bangalore and I studied in St. Thomas school. My uncle who then stayed and was looking for employment would walk me to the school...my school was a km away from my home and we had to walk the broad HAL  road which had a divider. The roads were not busier then but it definitely had cars and big buses which carried people to the airport and a few heavy vehicles like loaded tempos and lorries. One afternoon during lunch break I found a way out of school and walked on the road divider safely to reach home, I was just 4.5  or 5 years old. I told my mom who was washing clothes that due to teachers meeting we were let off. Next day, too around the same time, I reached home with the same excuse. While the previous day, my mom did not suspect me, the second day my mom found out something was fishy. I  was a pampered single child then and hated school where the nuns were strict and were walking with a cane in the hand. I was not interested in studying and would find ways to bunk school.  My mom  immediately readied herself and took me to the school and found the school was functioning. She left me in the care of the nun and all i know after that  was the bamboo cane leaving purple scars on my legs right in front of the chapel where i knelt to pray to god. 

To this day, the whole incident is unerasable in my memory...thankfully i studied in that strict school just for an year.. for second standard,  since my mom moved to her maternal home for delivering my sister i studied in Kumaran's school in Mylapore for 6 months. This school was more like a home, where the teachers pampered me like their own child...it was a small school and my teachers used to take me to their home. I particpated in dance and fancy dress competition and won prize. The photo copies  of which are still in many of relatives place that recently my second cousin in Atlanta had posted in a family group and asked to identify me.

My third standard again I shifted to Bangalore. Chennamma memorial school at Richmond road , run by Chinmaya mission with montessori methods and headed by Lalitha Mandanna.... a school that gave me excellent exposure to sports, creative arts and studies.  Perhaps this school brought out my love for sports and arts....more on this and other anecdotes  at another time.....

P.S: signing  off this post at 1:28 a.m  - another one of those sleepless nights which helped me to blog.

PPS: edited spellings on this post on reading a second time...i have to be careful now because recently my daughter's friend read my blog and told her" your mom makes many punctuation and spelling mistakes"....LOL

A baking trip to winter wonderland!

Braving the wintry chill with a  blazer & shawl,  I stand  in my balcony and find our condo twinkling with fairy lights for the festive season.  The shrub trees are lit around the pool, there are buntings with the colors of the season red, green and a big santa sock  hanging over the gazebo where a huge christmas tree is decked up. 

 Now that the festival of  Christmas has taken secular overtones,I find even the  festive hollies adorn the doors of most homes along with  illuminated  stars and embellished christmas trees in patios . The festive look & the glow of lights around gives a warm feeling overriding the cool wintry atmosphere.

Nostalgia crept in and I was thrownback to those cold December Bangalore nights of my childhood when everything was right with this world.That time of the year again when the days are shorter with mild sunshine , nights are longer and cooler. Everybody would be back home early and huddle together into the warm confines of home for an early winter food of steaming hot pepper rasam, melted ghee and rice. Mmmm.... The aroma of hot rice, ghee and tomato rasam...Some warm memories travel with you for long!

“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.” ― Laura Ingalls Wilder

Christmas to me in my childhood meant  so many things, some of which I have already blogged about like the Christmas vacation, the stroll on the Brigade road in Bangalore Which wears the twinkling fairy lights and had  Santa’s walking on the road with their goody bags and  the plum cakes.
 

And the plum cake aroma is another memory that is deeply nestled in my heart and cloaks me in warmth. This aroma would arise from the kitchen of my aunt’s place at FRL in Malleswaram Bangalore. Dec 28^th was my cousin’s birthday and my aunt would bake this lovely plum cake( without any icing), all of us playing out in the lawns of the huge campus would be drawn towards the aroma of the warm spices wafting from home. That was one of the  earliest memory of home baking for me.

Later, during my growing years, my mom and her friends had joined the canning center and would can jams, juices and sauces. They also learnt baking with a cooker. My mom would add sand to the the pressure cooker pan and make a lovely tea cake. We later bought a gas top aluminium oven which produced many tea cakes.

Then It was the turn of honey cakes, creamy layered cakes and sponge cakes that we would get from the nearby Iyengar’s bakery. The aroma of the baked goodies and bread would reach our house, the 10^th house on that lane  at 3.pm when the fresh batch of breads and cakes were baked. 

But of all the cakes, it is the Christmas plum cake  that really stole/steals my heart. I love the  spicy bitter-sweet- fruity- nutty- zingy taste of the cake. In my childhood winters,  I would look forward to the plum cakes of Nilgiri’s, Brigade road( they are the pioneers of diary products & first supermarket in India)  which my dad would get or the ones which my Grandpa would get from Universal Baker’s Mylapore.They all left an unique taste which lingered for long. No other plum cake that I have eaten later has matched the taste of Nilgiris, Universal’s or my aunts. 

Infact, the celebrated  Parsi bakery cakes in Hyderabad, that i have tasted later left a bitter and a  greasy feel for long on my tongue due to the hydrogenated oil or whatever fat was used.

At home, this time I decided to warmup myself by baking this plum cake. I am no  great baker but love baking for my family. I have baked and tried black forest cakes, few eggless, vegan,  healthy cakes with whole wheat, flax, carrots, apples etc.,  and they were all gone in a trice. None of the cakes were appealing to look with fondants and icing but had health  and taste in every bite.

               

This time, I wanted to bake the plum cake  in traditional style by making the treacle, soaking the fruits(not in alcohol but juice) and it was labour intensive, trying to source the ingredients, planning and executing it.

But, I thoroughly enjoyed making and baking my dream cake at home. When The aroma of the spices that wafted from the oven filled the whole home with warmth , it  teleported me to the  Wintry wonderland of my  childhood times. And the taste was truly magical! This "first plum cake baking" is another winter memory in the making i suppose:). I

                                         The fruits & peels soaked overnight plumped up the next morning

That's the rustic home baked cake   whose aroma  often evokes winter  memories. 

The recipe is here in my food blog Recipes and stories from my kitchen.

Things we lost to technology

  Many requiems were held and the past week saw me reading/hearing  nostalgic stories of many people relating their interesting experiences with telegrams, trunkcalls and letters in the Newspapers, on blogs and during conversations . As for me, on the last day of the telegraphic service, i wish, i had sent a telegram to my children. They would have preserved it for posterity. I missed doing this.

There are mixed views on the closure of the service. Some feel, this is the age of instant news. News is being uploaded simultaneously as it is being made through mobile,FB and twitter. We also easily connect with people in distant lands or next door on  whatsapp, skype etc., .So the telegram and trunkcalls are waste of money and time. while some of my Army friends  felt that telegrams are the way many military personnel still connect with their family since they are stationed at remote places where there is no internet access.

I  too was swept by a nostalgic wave, for i belong to a generation of snailmails, trunkcalls, telegrams and much more which have now been taken over by technology. As an electronics graduate, I love technology and the communication revolution and i too have moved on with times.

Today I  tweet, blog,pin,  FB, whatsapp and skype.  But still I feel technology has robbed us of certain things  emotionally. The joy of writing letters, the anticipation of waiting for replies, expressing ourselves with words  and poetic lines. The patience of waiting till a trunkcall is booked sometimes it would take even 6 to 7 hours.

There are  certain things i feel we have lost to the technological and  communication revolution and the joy of doing certain things emotionally is one of them.

Though we hav'nt written epitaphs and conducted requiems, Like trunkcalls and telegrams there are few things that we have lost to the revolution. They are:

•  Dictionary
•  wren and martin book
•  Logarithm table
• calculator
• Typewriter
• Story telling
• Encyclopedia
•  transistors
• Fountain pen
• traditional radio
• games like hopscotch, gillidanda, tennikoit, pretendgames, lagori etc.,
• atlas map book
•  stone grinders/Pestle and mortar
•   Record playersand LP records
• tape recorders and tapes
•   floppy disks
•  pagers
•  analog camera and photo albums
•  communication offline
• health
• environment
•  emotional values like patience, smiling, waiting, longing, controling anger all of which are lost to instant messaging, wrongly spelt SMS and emoticons   and I  am leaving this list  incomplete.......

  Would you care to complete in the comments section?

P.S: This is a generalized post. Some of us still would be using many of the above.

A train of enriching memories - Brindavan Express

   Long long ago, i would look  forward for the closure of school for  summer holidays. The holidays would  last for two months starting  March 23- May 23. That  period was supposed to be summer in Bangalore when we never even switched on fans. The  whole city was naturally airconditioned with the various lakes and  trees like  sampige, margosa, gulmohar, laburnums and jacaranda. While many would head towards the garden city or air-conditioned city for holidays, i would look forward to travel to Madras for my grandparents place.

On the last working day of the final term, Compulsory kannada  my third language exam would end at 10.30 a.m  and i would board my train - Brindavan express at 1.20.  This was an annual  feature and it was a solo travel. My parents would drop me at the Bangalore city station and my grandparents or my uncles  would pick me up at Chennai central when it reached there at 7.30 in the evening.

The interim 6 hours, the child in me indulged in the sights and sounds of my onward journey which must have sown the seeds of wanderlust in me.  I generally got a window seat and so would rest my head and watch the train wind its way through fields and beautiful landscapes and enjoy the unending views of the setting sun and  all other scenic sights that unfolded. Especially, I enjoyed the sight and sound  of the winding train by sticking my head on the grills of the window.

                          ( image courtesy: Google images)

If it was scenary outside the window, it was the constant chatter of the  people inside that kept  me entertained. As time and travel bound the passengers together, the people would talk politics, share stories, some would even  fix the alliance for their son/daughter by exchanging horoscopes. Some would play cards and some would listen to the small transistor. I would be a mute spectator  to all these happenings and watch with the innocence of a little girl.

All along my observations, i would wait for the pantry car to do its service, My favorite was the bun butter jam and cutlets/ samosa with tomato sauce.  These things today i avoid on a train journey but not during  those days. It did not matter to me about the germs, the dusty compartments , stench of the washrooms, poor sanitation , the crowd etc.

The 6 hour journey would end  when my grandfather received me at Chennai central. After i reach home and when appa enquired over phone "Did you finish the book?" would i realize that appa had brought me a book from  the Higginbothams book shop at the railway station. Also, the upma or idli my mom packed for the journey would be intact till it reached Madras.

That is the magic of a train journey where there is never a dull moment with food, people, smell, sound and sight.

The cries of ‘Chai chai, bisi bisi chai’, the mobile push carts selling books, eatables etc, the sound of the whistle, people running here and there to locate the compartments – if all these bring life to the platforms then the gentle rocking movements , the train friends, the hawkers inside selling peanuts,  movie song books and their interactions are something that added vibrancy to the journey.

 Years later i have traveled the Rajdhani, Shatabdi, KK, nizamuddin, Pallavan, rockfort, sabari ,intercity, vishaka etc., and added many many enriching  experiences.Each journey can be a post of inspiring memories. 

Tomorrow as i embark on another experience of  train journey towards my hometown I will notice a few changes in relation to my childhood journey.  Yes, the nature of people will never be the same. Some of us will be immersed in books, some busy with their laptops, some finalizing their business deals in a loud voice on their cell phone, some shuffling their i-pod list, some kids playing with the PSP or any toy but few things will remain unchanged like  the guard showing the green signal,  The porters  in the red dress, the announcements will be on, I will hear the 'Chai chai' cries and more.

For these are things that makes the Indian rail journey memorable. Of course, I will not write about the sanitation and cleanliness which has grown from good to worse but i prefer any day a train  journey over a flight journey when time is not a constraint. These train journeys have given me a wide exposure to food, culture, and people and i have seen much of India through the rail medium than by air or bus.

Memories of my good friend's birthday

  The air in my city  is getting festive. We are just out of the Ramzan festivities and now we are gearing up for the socio cultural and religious Ganesh Utsav.  The huge eco friendly ganesha are being booked by the various associations. The ganesh Utsav committee is involved in gathering the children and elders for its various cultural programs. Money is being collected in hundis for this public funded utsavs. All the Indian cities and villages, I’m sure is gearing to welcome the first god of hindu pantheon,  Ganeshji.  A practicing hindu’s  good  friend and guide. 

Undisputably one of the  friendly gods whom you can mould into a cricketer, chessplayer, soccer player,  drummer, guitarist and into many avatars now even holding an apple product. So flexible that he is now in the form of stuffed toy and even   Mcganesh( imitating McDonald's  Ronaldo's pose).  He needs no palatial temple to house him,and can simply be found around the bend of the road on a raised pedestal, or any traffic island, or under any tree or any of the junction of three roads.He throws no fuss and is very adaptable ,adjusting, a  confidante, a giver and much more.

I too am excited with the festive air for  he is one of my favorite god. My association with him dates back to those times when I was around  6  or 7  years . We then lived in a beautiful place here which was the quintessential Bangalore then. My house was surrounded by beautiful places  which are now brand names like Lalbagh west gate, The famous eat street Sajjan rao circle( featured in TLC and many food  shows like HOMP), the headquarters of the famous ready to eat  MTR (Mavalli tiffin room) and the famous traditional market Gandhi bazaar( again in  TLC).

I grew up here for a few years playing,  listening to and reading stories when things like TV were unheard of. Predominantly most of the stories were mythological and ACK. It was the IBH exhibition at Glass house in Lalbagh  which was just a walk from my house that introduced me to Ganeshji stories, the elephant headed god.  Appa bought me this ACK for just 2rs( now it cost rs 40) there and thus started the association and after reading the book, I was interested in reading ganesha stories and so he gradually became my special friend. Even today, i love to read Ganeshji stories in Tinkle and other books

The hopeless nostalgic person that I am, I fondly recollect the memories of those sepia toned  and simple times, when money was less but happiness was plenty. Choices  were few but  life was contented and uncomplicated, responsibilities were none but footloose and carefree days were abundant.

So one of those memories  is this special friend’s birthday  which  every year like in most homes we celebrated as Pillaiyar( the tamil name for Ganeshji)  chaturthi. We would source all the pooja items from the streets of  Gandhibazaar. Accompanied by appa and amma and my little sis we would shop on the streets of this traditional market nearby home.  

 At home, the wooden stool would be  decorated with small plaintain saplings and decorated with festoons and flowers. We then would install the clay idol of Ganesha(not the colored one) decorate him with beautiful wild flowers, serial lights, a toy umbrella called 'pillaiyar kudai'. The puja was  performed with variety of wild flowers and darbha grass by appa while amma made all the delicacies like kheer, vada.  Neivedyam(bhog) to god was the Kozhakattais(modaks), which amma would give  only when I made 108 thorpukaranams (sit ups). 

In the afternoon around 3.p.m , we would be dressed in our best and I and my friends would set out to see Ganesha’s in different house  in the neighbourhood and ask people "Aunty, ganesha ittidira" (  Meaning "Have you kept Ganesha?" kept in this context meant installed the idol) . People then were not apprehensive to open doors to strangers  and would gladly welcome us. We would then shout ‘Ganapathi ki jai” throw the turmeric coated raw rice(akshata)  taken with us , collect the 'sihi thindis'(sweets)  the various people gave us  and the little gifts like hairband, hair clip, bangles etc. Kannadigas also celebrate Ganapati’s mom the previous day called ‘Gowri habba’ which is essentially a ladies festival like karva chauth  hence gifts like bangles, clips etc. We would head home in content with all the goodies collection. The general idea is to see 108 ganeshas, but the main intention was the goodies. Perhaps, those days this was a form of socializing and knowing your neighbourhood.

We would  also be a participant in the  Ganesh utsav functions in the pandals close home. These  publicly funded  utsavs  served as a reason  to bring the spirit of unity and oneness among the neighbor hood residents. The cultural programs held in the evening served to showcase the talents of children and I too would sing in those ganesh utsavs. The famous song was of course” gajamukhane ganapathiiye ninage vandane…..”. 

 In many localities of Bangalore like Vijayanagar where I later shifted, these Ganesh utsavs in Bangalore would almost extend till  Kannada Rajyothsava  i.e November 1^st which is the day Karnataka was formed .

Finally the immersion, there is no concept of immersion in my dad’s side and the ganesha would be kept in the puja room and the same ganesha would be used for 5 years but I would accompany my friend Sandhya’s house idol. Her father would walk with us up to Lalbagh, While she carried the Ganesha in thelittle  basket, I would ring the bell upto Lalbagh kere(lake). At lalbagh kere, there would be many clay figures lowered . some would arrive in customized trucks, some would come in handcarts. Tempos, cycles etc.,  The clay of the idol would get immersed  and form the silt. Now of course, there is a huge noise about pollution, those days we never used much of chemical dyes. 

Much has changed now. The fast emerging metro, the various underpass, flyovers  have gobbled up many landmark places. The lalbagh kere(lake)  has been acquired  or is slowly getting phased out by the metro development,  so is the traditional market of Gandhi bazaar. The junction road of Vanivilas and kanakapura road where I stayed  has become an underpass. Nothing seems to be at ground level now, everything is underground or flying high. Last time i travelled out of the city, my head was held high and eyes were only at the sky. So many buildings touching the sky line. All these have transformed the grounded  Garden city Bangalore to  an elevated world class global city called Bengaluru.  These places exist only in my memories.

  

Agreed change is inevitable and we have to move on in life. 

But.... but...., after all these one thing remains unchanged. The ganesh Utsav celebrations at Basavanagudi APS grounds and National college grounds . This is the 50^th year. Just in case, you happen to be here and are a connoisseur of Good food and music, Be there. Enjoy the 'Aromas of Karnataka' a  food festival treating you to the traditional delicacies and this is also the venue Where you will hear to the greats like Ilayaraja, yesudas, Shankar Mahadevan, Sonu nigam, Shaan, Drums sivamani and Vijay Prakash this year.  And get blessed in one of the Best and oldest Ganesh Utsav pandals. For program schedule click here.

 Meanwhile, we are gearing up for the festivities here in our condominium. Hopefully, my next post will be on an unique temple of Ganesha, infact very very unique.

ETA: Just as i posted this, i hear the song "Give me some sunshine, give me some rain, give me another chance, i want to grow up once again" from 3 idiots.  Aptly defines my mood for this post. 

A cake's aroma evokes a cherished December memory

Like every December, this year too  the Xmas tree, nativity scene, festive holly, be-ribboned gifts, colored lights, poinsettias, mistle toe and the reindeer driven Santa  warm up the otherwise chilly blue Hyderabadi nights and makes my mood perkier and  merrier.

It is a visual treat to watch all the lifestyle and leisure stores deck up their windows with their merchandise and other Christmas embellishments.

Not to forget the bakeries which stock X-mas goodies like marzipans, pastries, ginger bread,Rose cookies, kalkals, Yule log and ofcourse the tastiest of them all the X-mas and New year Plum cakes.

Plum cakes for me reminds me only of two things, one is the famous nilgiris plum cake and the other the one baked by my chitti(mom’s younger sis), but she baked not for X-mas or for new year but for my cousin’s birthday which falls on the last week of December.

 This beautiful memory of late 70’s which is nestled in the crevice of my heart surfed up today when the aroma of the Christmas fruit cake wafted from my microwave.

My chittappa worked with FRL(now called the Institute of wood science) and so stayed in the quarter adjoining Sankey tank. The whole area belonged to the Forest department and so it was wooded. In the late 70’s or 80’s there was no dearth of greenery and the quarter and the forest area was separated by a huge green land like a meadow with lot of flowering plants. This extended till the sankey tank which was  barricaded with a picket fence.  

I and my cousin (he was the only child and my sis was just 2 years old) along with his friends Ganga, Shyama, Vyas and Akhila  would go around doing simple things like  throwing stones into the lake and enjoy watching the ripples, chasing butterflies and holding them in our hands till the color of their wings stuck to our hands , running around the huge green lawns ducking from the buzzing bees and printing colored flowers onto our dress etc., Suddenly we would drop all those things and go around picking up the mica flakes in the nearby earthy area. We would crush those flakes to powder which would shimmer in our hands under the sun’s rays. We would then dust it on our dress.  We would loaf around flaunting our shimmering dress.

Around noon, the aroma of the plum cake would draw us like a magnet to home. We all would wait longingly for our share but we would get a mouthful of scoldings for dirtying our dress.We got our piece of cake too that was  after a game of musical chair in the evening.


 Such footloose and fancy free days(sigh!) was a regular December routine for me till they got transferred and moved to Dehradun.

When I last passed by Sankey tank, I saw the area  stripped of trees to make way for real estate development and road widening and sadly this is supposed to be the First tree court of India, meaning if anybody wants to chop  trees in public area they have to seek permission from this place.

3 decades have passed since then and with each passing year, I feel that the year is getting shorter else how do I explain that it seems like just yesterday that 2011 rang in and is  already coming to an end so early. Though I know it sounds clichéd, I just can’t stop myself from thinking how time flies and now another goes by making way for new one , nevertheless giving us time and opportunity to build bridge to our destinies.

As the year closes in,  My prayers to  God to bless this earth with  eternal peace, cheer, harmony,  love, warmth, innocence and a healthy safe world for years to come.

Looking forward to 2012 with high hope.

 May god bless you all with good health, happiness and fulfill all your dreams in the coming year.

Bean town Bangalore to Burger town Bengaluru

‘Nothing is forever – the only thing constant is change’ is a statement which is applicable to most tier I and tier II cities. But in case of Bangalore, I experienced it.

I am a child of Bangalore and have stayed for 30 years, I felt shameful being lost in the city, the city for which I have been the resource person for most of my non-Banglorean friends.

My recent visit to Bangalore, made me really long for the Bangalore of my childhood. Way back in the 70’s ,80’s and even early 90’s words like traffic jam, gridlock, bottlenecks were unknown to us.

Till the ‘ Namma Metro’ (Mass rapid transport) is commissioned the traffic is going to be a pain not just in the neck, but the whole body. Wherever you see, you only find the metro piers and related works or the under pass works. The regular road routes are now either ‘sub way’(under pass) , ‘one way’ or ‘no way’. In many places, the main road traffic is now diverted to the service road. If you are a shopper bargaining for the right price with the hawkers on either side of the service road, consider yourself lucky, if you return home with your limbs intact.

Gone are the days when we used to carelessly walk on the Bangalore sidewalks carpetted with gulmohars, lilacs, sampiges and jacaranda while their trees canopied above us and the sunlight never fell on the road.

The charm of old Bangalore is lost to modern civilization. In the last decade, the city has grown beyond the 4 towers marked as boundary by the founder, Kempe Gowda. These towers now almost stand in the center of the city. From a 200+ sqkms it has now grown into a 700+ sq km city.

We had beautiful treelined road like margosa road(because of neem trees), sampige road( a wild scented jasmine) with proper trenches, lesser pollution, a salubrious climate( it still has), acres of lung space like Lal Bagh, Cubbon park,bugle rock, temples which are architectural marvels.

Bangalore had lots of water bodies called kere(lakes) which compensated for the sea beach that it does not have( then we would’nt have had such a lovely weather).

For entertainment we had the live music bandstands on weekends in Lalbagh, cubbonpark, traditional music festivals at Fort high school grounds, magic shows and dramas at Chowdiah memorial, town hall, ravindra kalashetra, Bal Bhavan, numerous theatres(KG road in Bangalore has 14 (or is it 17?) theatres which is the biggest number on a road in Asia. For tasty food we had thindi beedis like Sajjan rao circle, Udipi hotels like MTR, Dasprakash, darshinis, sagars ,Kamats, Tiffany’s, Koshy’s, K.C. Das, baked products at the many iyengar bakeries,V.B bakery( supposedly the first bakery of Bangalore), pay packets came from companies like HMT, HAL, BEL,BHEL, ITI,NGEF, Kirloskar, MICO etc.,It is also home to premier instituties like IISc,IIM, Raman institute.

With the advent of Texas Instruments the first foreign MNC to enter india and make Bangalore its home in late 80’s, slowly things started turning around in Bangalore. Many more companies like HP, Digital Equipment, Motorola, Verifone etc., came in, added to those were our own HCL, Infosys, Wipro etc., These companies brought the name ‘silicon valley of india’ to Bangalore and the number of openings and placements in the companies drew people from outside. This also inspired me to take up electronics for my graduation(B.Sc).

With the influx of people from other states, housing became a problem so the regular planned BDA layouts which had regulated sanitation and water connection, street lighting, a park, a play ground, a nandini milk parlour(bangalore milk diary), hopcoms outlet(horticulture produce of lalbagh for fresh veg and fruits) could not meet the growing population. Realtors struck gold while the IT people bought flats built on gramthana( agricultural) sites, revenue sites and encroached land of lakes etc giving way to many apartments in JPnagar, Bannerghatta road etc (closer to Electronics city).

Today, In the name of development, roads are dug, trees are felled, lakes are encroached. Sturdy age old trees are compensated with landscaped parks and lakes are compensated with musical fountains. Healthy brick and mortar buildings are replaced with hollowblocks, glass and chrome facades.

Satellite towns, agricultural lands of the 90’s developed into electronics city, IT parks, the BI airport, tech parks and shopping malls. The sprawling 40 acre Kirloskar company has given way to Brigade Gateway and lovely heritage structures like Hotel Victoria have made way to Bangalore central ( a mall), Lido theatre becomes lido mall,The british bungalows with fireplace and high ceilings in the wooded binnyston gardens( I had lunch at a friends place at one of these 15+ bungalows in 1988) have turned into a 200 apartment 'ETA star's -The gardens', The sprawling Minerva mills ground which held handloom exhibitions is turning into Sobha Minerva, the galaxy theatre where I saw ‘Titanic’ is now Galaxy embassy mall, the rose gardens of Vijayanagar, Double road (K.H.Road), beautiful boulevard with lovely bowers of bougainvillas on M.G.Road, , the calm west of chord road, the little retail shops on malleswaram 15th Cross Where I have shopped and walked have all made way for metro piers and so many numerous things have changed.

Old landmarks like lake view ice cream parlour, GK vale, India coffe house, Tiffany’s where memories are stashed for old bangloreans are turned into Glass and chrome malls for new Bangloreans to shop, enjoy and celebrate.

I really miss the beautiful and gentle Bangalore which had the sobriquets – poor man’s ooty, pensioners paradise, air conditioned city, garden city, Pub city etc.,

Now, How I wish IT revolution had never happened in Bangalore.

Change is welcome when it is healthy but then when things are changing for worse…… It’s time to think. Can silicon valley be reverted to Pensioner’s Paradise?

Not that other cities are lagging behind, there is chaos in almost all cities but this is the city I know and I miss the character of my Bangalore which still has the best summer @ 33 deg. Having experienced the hot summers of Delhi, UP, MP, AP, TN etc., I still maintain that Bangalore summers are cool even now in 2011, though evergreen Bangloreans sulk and say 33 is ‘shakkey’(sultry) and bisilu’(hot).

Having said all the above, there is something in the atmosphere which seems to draw me closer to this city.

Love you Bangalore though you have had a make over from a bean town* to burger town.


*Bangalore is the anglicized version of Bengaluru derived from Benda kaal ooru meaning the place of boiled beans.

My childhood summers

Summer camp! Summer camp!! Summer camp!!!

It’s raining summer camps everywhere. The colored flyers and banners are all around, each one claiming to teach art,craft, music,drama, pottery and many more in short span.

As I see many latch-key kids making use of the summer camps, I am reminded of my own summer camp. My summer camps were always @ my grandparents house in the city of Madras( i like the ring of madras than chennai) which can boast of only one weather, though in varying degrees- hot, hotter and hottest.

But it never mattered to me that I travelled from the cooler climes of Bangalore, because I had the cool company of my 10 cousins who would also descend from their cities to my grandparents house at Mylapore (a suburb of Chennai). We also had company in two little girls who were the nieces of our maid servant. Those girls had actually come to share the extra house hold work but we would drag them to play with us, they almost become a part of our gang thus making it 12.

No structured pattern in our camp, just footloose and carefree days of gay abandon.

My grandparents house served as a transit point for all those relatives who broke their journey while moving from the southern cities of Madurai, trichy to the cities in the north like Delhi, Dehradun, Calcutta etc.So we had a regular flow of relatives. We enjoyed meeting them and then our story sessions with our peria patti( my grandmom’s elder sister), the frequent visit to relatives house and outings in the big amby car MSR 2277 in which all the 10 of us huddled along with our thatha and patti, our presence at weddings and occasions , our walks to santhome beach and occasional visits to marina, triplicane or elliots beach, our daily visit to Kapali kovil(temple) and shopping around the shoppers paradise called Luz, eat outs @ woodlands, shanti vihar, the famous rayars café and then of course the way we played pranks on each other and the various games on the mottai madi (terrace)- all these and much more made my summer camp.

We also lent helping hand to our elders when required. This was more fun than a chore. We helped them when they went to market, we bought the essential provisions from the nearby store, helped thatha with his work like filing papers etc,watering plants, cleaning the fridge, pumping water from the hand pump etc.

What we enjoyed most was sweeping the terrace in the evening and splashing buckets of water to make it cool, because this is where we would camp in the night under the star spangled sky, Our fans were natural which came in the form of sea breeze from the nearby Santhome beach . Thatha would sleep on the string cot while my grandmom, my mom and her 3 sisters along with their 2 sisters-in-law(mamis) and brothers would keep chatting. We children would play hide and seek, chat and share stories. If it was a full moon day, it was an ocassion for us, since we would have ‘nila sappadu‘ on the terrace. (Moon light dinners)

My perimma (mom’s elder sis) would bring sambar rice and appalams in a big dish to the terrace while my elder mami would bring in Thayir saadam(curd rice) and vadu manga( baby mangoes brined and spiced).

All the 10 of us(cousins) would sit around perimma. She would then give small plates which would hold our appalams. We would have a bite of the appalam and stretch our hand for the sambar rice. Perimma then would place the sambar rice on our palms and we would pop it into our mouth hurriedly and stretch our palms again. It never mattered to us if we were hungry or fussy all that mattered was the competition to stretch our hand for the next morsel. In a trice the sambar rice would be emptied.

Next was the thayir saadam. Now vadu manga substituted the appalam. All of us would have a bite of vadu manga and then stretch our hands for the thayir saadam.

After dinner, we all would go down 2 flights of stairs to drink water( this served as a exercise) and then brought our mats and pillows and then spread it on terrace.

After some running around and some story sessions later we all would blissfully go to sleep counting the stars in the sky,or waiting for the beams of the light house and looking at the temple tower of kapali koil which was visible from our house terrace. Sigh! Such blissful days. Will they ever come back? I would trade any material comforts for those lovely childhood days I have had - if ever I could live through them again.

Years pass by........

As I sat watching my daughter sort, wrap and label her new books with so much care and go around getting all things set for her new academic session and very eager to attend the final year of school , she said ’Amma, naan indha varusham innum extra efforts podanam, (Mom, I should put more efforts this year), ‘Ranjana mam’s teaching is very interesting’ ‘Chandra kala mam’s math classes are fun’ I could not help but think, how fast time flies and my children have grown up so fast. Memories of their first days to school flooded my heart.

It seems as though it was just yesterday that I dressed her in the school uniform of a small checked black and white box frock and shiny black shoes , the 2 year and 6 month old was carried to the school by me on the first day which was just a km away from home. She did not voice her feelings of not wanting to go to school but her misty eyes gave away. To cover her feelings, I told her to recite the shlokas on the way to school and she repeated them as best as she could when she suddenly stopped her prayer and pointed to the poster of ‘Stuart little’ and told ‘Naan pathirken’(I’ve seen).

I dropped her at her school (Carmel) where she was lost among the kids playing see-saws, slides all under the TLC of her first teacher Mrs. Suma Lokesh. Thus started her school journey in Bangalore, which after our shift to Hyderabad brought her to present school and now as she goes around independently doing her work, and as she puts her best foot in all scholastic and co-scholastic areas,and her English teacher tells me ‘Ive suggested her name for the editorial of the school mag’ I can’t help but thank all her mentors and teachers who have taken care to shape up my girl.

And my little boy who is always on a highground in technical areas as compared to me (this inspite of me being an electronics graduate) and who simply consider his appa’s word as the final word on all matters.

At the age of 3, all dressed in blue and white he was taken to the school by his hero (his father). He did’nt throw any tantrums but he showed his displeasure through his misty eyes. His appa put him on a rocking horse in his school and told him he would be away for just a few minutes and he can sit there, he would pick him back home from the same horse.

Two hours later when his appa went to school , he found his little boy still rocking on the horse. His First teacher Mrs. Jayashri Lahiri said he did not dismount from the horse even during the short break. From a shy boy who would just not open up to say ‘ hello’, share or greet anybody to a boy who is now nicknamed ‘Radio city’, his mature thoughts now just stump me and boy, was I elated when his teacher told me ’He is an asset to the class’.

How time flies!

They are no more the little ones, they are now almost reaching my height . They are growing up real fast in this fast world! How I wish I could freeze and hold back time, because even before I know few more years will pass by quickly and they would be away on their own to build bridge to their destinies.