Mysore Dasara Horticultural Show

Another favourite rendevouz for locals and tourists alike, aside from the Palace and the Exhibition, during the Dasara festival, is the Horticultural Show at Curzon Park. Do you know that the first of the Mysore Flower Shows was organized nine decades back? It was opened by HH Krishna Raja Wadiyar IV (above picture) on August 15, 1914. This is what he spoke on that occasion (Source- Speeches by HH. Krishna Raja Wadiyar IV):

"It has given me great pleasure to listen to Mr.Krumbiegel's address and I hope that many of you will be impressed by the eloquent appeal which he has made to you to cultivate the hobby of gardening. I feel sure that Mr.Krumbiegel's enthusiasm and artistic taste will make our Mysore Flower Shows as beautiful and attractive as those which he arranges at the Lal Bagh in Bangalore.

"The Flower Show which I am now opening is the first of its kind that has been held in the City of Mysore and I hope that it will become a regular institution. No one who knows the Cities of Bangalore and Mysore can help noticing the great dearth of gardens in Mysore and there is really no reason for such a state of things. The soil and rainfall of the two places are very similar and I can only hope that the institution of this Flower Show will encourage house-owners here to beautify their homes by cultivating private gardens.... I appeal to the people of this city to try and emulate Bangalore and convert Mysore into a garden city. I now declare this Show to be open".

Above are two pictures of Curzon Park where the Show is held every year.

In fact, Mysore WAS a garden city for a few decades hence. Those who have been bitten by the 'gardening bug' will nod that "gardening is the purest of human pleasures, the greatest refreshment to the spirit of man", as Lord Bacon said. Green is important to life on Earth and soothing to the eyes. A green, clean and calm Mysore was what our revered Maharajas intended and strove for. Let us be reminded of their good deeds. The "Flower Show" is one of them.

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Do take a look at my album here showing pictures I took in the 2009 version and by another photographer from webshots and see how it goes on these days.

How I caught a bicycle thief

Rarely do things, however small, lost or stolen return to owners. Luck plays its definite role as it proved one evening, some years ago. Waiting, for my wife, on my scooter outside our entrance, bound for an errand, I happened to see a cyclist speed through. Suddenly I heard a man shouting ‘catch him’, sprinting towards me for help because he saw me 'on the blocks' of my scooter. By the time he could explain, gasping, the ‘cyclist’ had vanished in darkness (in the absence of proper streetlights). He was actually chasing that thief who had stolen his bicycle from near a tea shop close by. But the alert loser fortunately had kept an eye and could start the chase as quickly as he had noticed and the direction in which way the thief rode away.

Without a second thought and honouring his request, I allowed him to pillion me. Vrrooom! We began “Operation catch-thief”. Commonsense guided us to take the route that had no upward gradient, obviously not preferred by the escaping thief. So, I took the one that also led to a locality (across the railway line in Chamarajapuram) reputedly notorious for petty thieves. After traveling some distance, lo, my pillion spotted the cycling culprit when he went under a streetlight. “Look he’s going there!”

I soon closed in and blocked his movement just as we crossed the railway line through the underpass. Surprised and frightened, he tried to flee, leaving the bicycle behind. Our frantic shouts to catch him were duly responded by a dozen passers-by. In a jiffy, he was in the clutches of people!

My pillion got down to pick up his fallen bicycle and lunch box/bag, which was fixed to the carrier clip behind the saddle. I found out that he was a poor coolie (labourer) returning from his day’s hard work and while having a cup of tea his unlocked bicycle had been lifted.

The man profusely thanked me in his own humble way and left, but not before both of us watched the culprit being soundly thrashed by his own locality-men for his misdeed that could have put the poor fellow in debt. A few spectators who recognized this thief were talking to each other about his notoriety. The punishment meted out also demonstrated it emphatically. I could not watch 'the fun' for long as I had disappeared from home without information.

I proceeded on my errand, satisfied that my scooter could successfully substitute a foot-chase, and richer with a little story to tell my waiting wife (and brag about it here, now). If my wife and I were to start on time, the poor fellow would have been a loser.

Thanks to Lady Luck, the bicycle returned to the rightful owner.

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But in our own case some years prior to the above incident, Lady Luck was busy elsewhere. My late father's Raleigh, which was parked in front of a bank by an uncle who had taken it for his errand, had vanished when he returned after his work hardly a few minutes later. Lesson learnt!

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Searching something for this blog, I ended up knowing that there was a famous Italian movie "Bicycle Thief"!
This is just FI.

The irrepressible "Congress groundnuts"

I actually consumed part of what is seen above and got the inspiration for this piece as the mind 'nostalgiated'.

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My father's favourite snack aside from the Masala Dosa was the

Kharada Kallekai aka Spiced Peanuts aka Congress Kallekai.

I do not know how this catchy name of 'Congress' got tagged up to this. May be someone will enlighten me. When we were young, we had heard of the Congress Party and that it was their food and so we thought it was called Congress kallekai.

My father was so fond of this snack that he would oftentimes choose the route back home either from a shopping errand or somewhere so that there was his favourite shop that sold the "Congress". The small shops sold this item from wide-mouthed big glass bottles kept loose on their show shelves covered with wide lids. If we were walking by that route we knew that his legs would automatically go in that direction and at other times, his bicycle stopped in front of the shop as if from a magnet!

Pointing to the bottle, he would say "Give me 250 grams of this." There were other bottles containing whole nuts coated with salt and red chilli and spiced-puffed rice (mandakki puri and avalakki puri). This 'Congress' comes with the seed separated into its two halves and the recipe suited this. When he had more money, he would buy all the three in equal quantities and sometimes mixed them together for a new combination!

When the shopkeeper opened the lid and kept it aside for taking the required amount from a large spoon to the bowl on the weighing scale, he would invariably sample a small handful. This was normal practice! If sometimes the taste did not appeal, he would not consider buying.

Those were days in the 1960s and 1970s when plastic had not overwhelmed the world and so the packing was done using recycled paper envelopes made from old magazines or children's school books which were sold off. The easiest way to pack was to make a cone using a rectangular sheet, fold the top and secure the bottom by pinching and twisting and then tying it up with a thin jute or cotton packing thread. All biodegradable things. But then we never used that word at that time!

(The disposable paper cone container)

If we were walking with him, no sooner we left the shop, he would open the pack, hold the cone and put in a few seeds into his mouth and then offer it to us kids or whoever were with him. Such was his temptation. As we walked along, he would, in his own typical style, shake the cone as if to bring the heavier ones to the top like a winnow. That way he felt comfortable. He really enjoyed this. Of course who does not relish a spicy specialty item like this!

When he was on his bicycle and coming alone, he would gobble up the top quarter and bring the rest home for us keeping the cone or packet in his shirt pocket. When I grew up and was old enough to run errands, he would ask me to go and buy a small quota when he felt the urge. I would happily go because it also meant an independent ride on the bicycle. I always promptly returned the balance. I cannot remember the rates but I have seen the times when it was bought in measures and also saw the time when shopkeepers bought weighing scales.

In the 1960s there was one Ramaswamy Iyer in the neighbour's shed selling such items (plantains, cigarettes, peppermints, lemon lozenges). He was eking out a living from this humble little shop. There was another "Iyengar Shop" close by, but they sold only provisions.

My father was in Bangalore doing his diploma in 1949-50 and his liking to this 'congress' was well known even from those days. It appears he was a great patron of a shop in the Basavanagudi area that sold delicious 'congress'. Long later, he used to remember and show us a house which was the place of that shop where he bought. Here is a picture (below) from 2007 around the same place and is also popular for its variety of condiments.

In Mysore, he had found 2-3 shops, esp. one in Cheluvamba Agrahara, that prepared the item to his liking because this spice combination can vary from person to person and can be very tricky. He would buy often from here whenever he felt like, until the time (late 70s) he could no longer freely entertain his taste-bud temptations but probably not before strongly passing them on!

Those old shops are no longer there. Some new tastes have got stuck - in particular, one with predominantly asafoetida flavoured. Paper cones have given way to the more convenient plastic covers and jute and cotton thread have given way to Bostitch pins, but the irrepressible attraction to this tempting recipe never dies. Not for nothing it has been around for more than 60 years!

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Groundnut is called the poor man's almond. Here in India, it is way cheaper than the almond which comes from the north. Its nutritional value is unquestionable.

Click here for some nutrition facts of the groundnut.

There are so many uses, besides the "Congress", of this wondernut which you already know. The list would be endless!

I must share a funny incident about peanuts involving an elder friend. He had gone to Israel for a year long study-stay. In his early days there he used to buy peanuts for 'time pass' and was comparing the prices back in India. A friend noticed it after he did that many days and asked him to buy almonds and other dry fruits instead of peanuts but he was surprised at this suggestion! Only then he realized how much money he had wasted on peanuts! Our 'poor man's almond there indeed was way dearer compared to real almonds!

Kannada film song Kallekai Kallekai.... raja taja kallekai profiles this humble groundnut which the westerners call peanut and also Bangalore's famous groundnut fair. Tried searching that original film song footage, but this rendering by this little girl is equally impressive.

India is the second largest producer of groundnut. It is called by various names like peanut, earthnut etc. You can see more information here in this Wiki link.

Congress Kadlebeeja recipe (Spicy peanuts). It can be made at home.

Another recipe with garlic.

Mahatma Gandhi was a great advocate of groundnuts.

Spiced peanut is an important ingredient in Churumuri. Some people ask "put more peanuts"!

Proverb: Marriage is like a groundnut: you have to crack it to see what is inside.

The Typewriter

Do you know which is the only word that can be typed using the first row of letters on the keyboard of a typewriter keyboard. It is TYPEWRITER.

Do you know where the word 'typewriting' came about? It was coined in 'Scientific American', a magazine.

Do you know who made the first typewriter? It was by a gun making company. (Fine pictures and nice write-up here!). I will not be surprised if the newer generation youngsters ask what a typewriter is... they know only the keyboard of their computers!

Do you know who invented the first modern typewriter? Christopher Sholes.

Before I write something about my own fancy for it, do look in here for some different models of the early period - 1870s - and see how they appeared like.

My grandfather, an advocate, had his office on "Rave Street" near Gandhi Square. It had been there since since the early part the 20th century and he had picked up his practice from his uncle, who had started that office, since 1925. It was in this office that I remember to have seen a typewriting machine for the first time. It was in the early 1960s.

That model was so similar to this one.

The one thing that fascinated me in his office was the typist who 'click-clacked' on the machine with some speed but with some pauses as he looked into the document beside him to decipher some words . Sometimes my grandfather would take me and others in the family with him to his office before a market errand together. He would attend to some work before he took us out. Going to his office was a great attraction and much looked forward to, because of the typewriter and also a big lens (to study documents) he kept in his draw.

Awestruck, I would stand beside that typist, neck jaunting forward in great curiosity. Some metal rod would come from inside and even before my eye could follow its movement, it had already struck a letter and disappeared back. I used to get amazed also how one line was typed out and shifted over the the next one using the lever of the cylinder carriage.


I got the first opportunity to take a close look on another day when the machine was lying idle. I saw the the elements closely that struck letters (it had reverse image of letters!) and tried to meddle with it slowly and to listen to the click-clack noise, which was my favourite, I started to press the keys one by one and got a scolding from my grandfather not to strike the keys without a paper on the cylinder. It was a small black machine that had the "Royal" logo printed on it in cream letters.


Gauging my keen interest, he asked his assistant to put up a paper in it for me to play with it and shouted "do not strike hard". It was such great fun to see the printing of letters in purple. They used a purple inked tape. Sometimes I would touch the ribbon to see what it is and got the finger-tips stained. This stain would not go off on any amount of rubbing! It had to be washed with soap. Later I came to know there were two spools to hold this ribbon and that it even came in different colours. The keys were round and had yellowish letters on black background with a tiny round glass cover with a slight concave depression to fit the finger feel, almost like in this picture I found on the net to show here:



Browsing the net for this blog I found that vintage typewriter keys are fashion too - in great demand as pendants!


Every time I got the opportunity to visit my grandfather's office, I would beg him to allow me to type. Sometimes my younger brother also wanted to do the same and I had to make way for this little fellow.

I can remember the calm and quiet of that office at times when the only sounds were from my striking the keys when there were no clients as my grandfather prepared some pronote or something and I could hear the hourly chime from the huge bell on the nearby 'clock tower'. I had a few more opportunities of long sessions like this later also.

I tried to imitate the speed of the typist at the office using my two index fingers but often they got caught in spaces between the keys. It was a funny feeling! But more often more than one key was pressed so that the letter strikers got caught and had to be carefully released back to their positions. It was fun nevertheless, but by then I had known that 'rough use' can spoil the machine. The typewriter belonged to my grandfather and the office.


In 1973-74, I had joined a typewriting institute - only because someone told to join and that I had wanted to do fast typing and not because of any career growth. They gave me, just like for all beginners, an old machine, a Remington Rand, something like this one:

After some months of attending the sessions and doing speed drills (at Keerthi Institute), I had not picked up accuracy or uniformity of strike force. I used to blame the machine because the keys were hard. (I used to hear that they adjust a screw to make the keys harder). Some others were given better machines but not me. The instructor always used to tell that I strike hard. Disgusted, I changed the institute and joined another (Ganesh Institute) nearby but faced the same problem there also. He never allowed me to a Halda brand machine which was smoother. I finally threw the towel without taking the exam as I saw no purpose to continue any further.


I do not know, had I been given better machines, my typing quality would probably have improved, much like my tennis game improved many years later, once I changed over to graphite racquet from the traditional wooden.


My grandfather died in 1976 and before his death, I had a few more opportunities at his office to try out the keyboard knowledge on that "Royal" machine and more than anything else, my enjoyment was utmost. So, after his death, we wanted the machine back along with a few other items including some beautiful furniture that were belongings of my grandfather's uncle and grandfather himself who had been the actual owners. The office was now under the hands of the 'junior'. But our requests fell on deaf ears, much to our surprise and displeasure! I had accompanied my elders to the office once to ask but I could not see "Royal" at all. So there went my hopes of getting it back, nor we got anything back from there. The dream of having the typewriter was stalled for about 20 years.


By this time, I was into the hobby of penfriendship and many letters were exchanged but with the old system of paper and pen. There was a great yearning for a typewriter. The dream was realized long later, in the mid 90s to be precise, when a colleague was moving out and was giving away his items. The moment I came to know there was a portable typewriter on sale, I grabbed it. He was kind enough to allow me to fix its price for which I took the help of the instructor at my first typing institute and paid accordingly. It was a Singer Scholastic which I still have, used sparingly or never in recent years. But when I took it out for this blog, it was working fine!

When it was most needed, it was not there. But when the need was waning off, it came. But it is okay!

I did not take any typing exams, to experience the terrifying sound of the machines in unison when all candidates began to strike the keys in the exam hall when the start bell rang, but the basic knowledge I got in attending the classes have kept me in good stead esp. in this computer era. In my early years in the job, I had the pleasure of watching 4-5 steno-colleagues compete with each other in speed @100 w.p.m. until the computer age affected the slow disappearance of the machines into oblivion.

There are now no instructors to check the errors and fail me in tests because with computer keyboard, we have this key:

.... and this is the one that also wears out faster!! :) With typewriters, the error stays (erasers and correcting fluids disallowed).

Knowledge of the keyboard is a must nowadays as there is growing awareness, exposure and availability of computers to almost all people. Some people say they are happy with their speed in using only the two index fingers but the traditional knowledge will be extremely handy, for which there are many online tools also like in this link.

There are hundreds of brand of typewriters, there are museums dedicated to these wonder machines - some to show here:

Do not miss the funny design of the machine in the centre here:

Typewriter art was popular some time ago, but I found this (pic below) simple but beautiful art on the Net which is more recent as the artist types. There have been more complicated designs and pictures made too:

My grandfather's cousin K.S.Nanjundaiah (marked in rectangle) was involved in a "Champion Metropolitan College of Commerce" in the early 1920s in Mysore, imparting typing knowledge. I know not the location of the building in these pictures but it goes to show that typewriting was an important element in those days.

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Our Barbers

After the first year’s birthday of a Hindu boy, the next important religious ceremony is the Choula - the first haircut. The barber or hairdresser from the nearest saloon is called in to do this in a special ceremony. From then on, the barber becomes an integral part throughout the boy’s life, until of course the pate goes completely bald!

Simple invitation to get people together for an evening reception.

Before and after the first hair cut. Photos taken at Raj Studio. Suddenly, there is a 'different look'!
It was an old time practice that barbers (kshourikakas) used to visit homes periodically, barring Tuesdays, which is usually a holiday for all barbers. A separate place outside the house would be chosen for getting it done. The person would sit on a wooden plank placed on the ground and the barber would carry out his job on persons needing the haircut. After the job is over, the area was cleansed with water, the wooden plank washed and the person had to immediately take a bath – he would not get in contact with anything or person before taking bath which the person’s wife, or mother or grandmother would give by pouring water on the squatting person in the bathroom. Brothers are not allowed to have the cut the same day, nor father and son. Also, as per tradition one should not have the cut on the week day of their birth or on new moon day or festival days. Religious guidelines like this leave little to choose the day. The Ayurvedic Principles for daily life (by K.Parvathi Kumar) mentions that Mondays and Wednesdays are suitable days for haircut.

In the 60s one barber Muthu used to visit us with his box of tools and other paraphernalia. He was always clad in white shirt, pyjamas and that typical towel wrapped on his head. When my grandfather or father used to have their haircut we used to watch the action with great curiosity. It was great fun to sit on the plank when our turn came.

The rhythmic snip-snip sound of the scissors was great music and the wonderful tickling from the barber’s comb produced beautiful goose bumps – it does even now! While we enjoyed those special tickles we used to try and avoid by drawing the head between the shoulders in an involuntary action!

Muthu helped us for some years and I cannot remember anyone telling me for how long he was doing this. But he stopped around 1968 or so and I vaguely remember knowing that he had died. I think it was he who had performed my first hair cut (Chowla) at the age of 3. Since we did not have cameras to record the events, pictures were taken at the studio on convenient days (the famous Raj Studio). Before and after pictures are interesting.

Even when Muthu was visiting, there was a saloon a hundred metres away from our house which was owned by one Venkatachalam, fondly known to everyone as Chalam. We became his customers after Muthu’s passing on.

The closed door was Chalam's Saloon. It remains shut though the board from Srinivas' time stays at the 'Society premises'.

Chalam was popular because he was quite skilled in his trade and he knew how to keep the attraction in customers going. It was rare to see barbers speaking English in those days. Chalam was fairly well versed in it having been educated at Maharaja’s high school and was my father’s classmate. My father used to narrate an incident with great fondness involving Chalam during their school days (1930s). There was a code wherein students had to wear a cap and their caste’s mark on the forehead. A teacher (they were orthodox) used to notice this Chalam boy without any mark and used to question him. Chalam used to mention a humourously Sanskritized name for his caste, which the teacher understood and did not give any punishment for that. I forget that particular word.

There used to be long queue in his saloon and the waiting bench used to be always full with people reading old papers (latest was not available with him!) and getting entertained by Chalam’s funny dialogues, jokes and gossip with good mix of English words in his Kannada. This made the long waiting appear short! Often he used to have a puff or two from the beedi while he coughed close to the customer’s ears while snipping hairs! Almost all his sentences would be broken by this single-paroxysm-cough.

His simple saloon was decorated with pictures of heroes of that period and a barber’s sample for display with various hairstyles. The 1950s had a particular fashion in which some odd greenish blue tinge was given to the scalp from temple to temple around the head using sheer skill of the barber which was a secret, or so it seemed to us. He used to threaten us with “Shall I give colour like that?” showing that outdated sample picture when we demanded him the style that we needed. He rarely did that and went by his own.

Album picture from the early 1950s. See the boys' crops! Also in this rare picture is the Mysore Princess and Prince. The kid Prince Srikanta is yet to get his first haircut.

Children were invariably made to wait longer by calling the elder customers ahead of the queue on to ‘the throne’ often much to our displeasure. Children were made to sit on a plank placed on the throne’s arm rests so that our heads would reach a suitable height for his job. Looking at ourselves in the mirror at this elevated place was a joy as we could get a good 3D view of our own head! We did not have this privilege with Muthu or anywhere for that matter! I cannot remember how much Muthu was paid but I vaguely remember carrying two rupees when I began to go alone to Chalam. When younger, either I went with father or sometimes mother or aunt. They waited outside to take me back.

The 70s saw a revolution in hairstyles. Neatly trimmed hairdo was considered clean and tidy. Hippies’ style had been noticed in the print media and was tagged as ‘dirty’. But movie hero Amitabh Bachchan began sporting a clumsy style that covered the ears. It became a great hit with the younger public. Barbers began to give this ‘step cut’ and whoever did this well became popular and Chalam was one. It seemed to go well with the equally weird ‘bell-bottom trousers’ which also made its brief appearance in that decade!

AB and his looks!

Oldies had no style – it was barber’s wish. For others there was a ‘short cut’, ‘medium cut’, ‘machine cut’, a ‘crewcut’ or ‘military cut’ - it appeared as if a thread was tied around the head and all below that line was ‘mowed down’ with a machine leaving the top alone! The ‘military cut’ got a good tease among the boys.

Picture from the Net. Crew Cut.

During the mid 70s, another saloon came up equal distance to Chalam’s, from our house on the other side. That was the place where my uncle had a small book library for a few months before he fell sick and died in 1967. Now we tried to avoid Chalam because of his methods and try the hand of this new barber. He was okay, but we reached a stage when we felt Chalam was the better option after a couple of years and so we went back and offered our heads to him. We began tolerating his methods! We realized that a known devil was better than the unknown devil!!

Chalam’s young son Srinivas (by now the saloon’s name was “Slim and Trim”) was getting to learn the skill in the other chair and often we children were his scapegoats in his learning curve. During adolescence, when we were much conscious about the styling even though mine was a simple one, I was particular on immaculacy but I soon ‘certified’ Srinivas! It was Srinivas to whom I offered my head thereafter.

Chalam died in 1979 after a brief illness leaving a void which Srinivas found it hard to fill. Chalam was a real character! In fact it was he who had come home for the ‘hair cut ritual’ during my ‘thread ceremony’ in 1970. I think he was an alcoholic besides perhaps suffering from some respiratory problem which is why he had that typical ‘Chalam cough’. I heard some customers waiting on the bench rumouring that it could be the small pieces of hair flying about that created his problem. But I do not know. I informed the news of Chalam’s passing on to my father who was recovering in hospital in 1979.

Srinivas continued the good work on my head and he was the one who announced ‘it was thinning on top’ and I could also see more and more salt over the years accumulating on the sheet that he used as my shirt cover as he cut! It was not a worry as I felt it was happening naturally. It was still a joy to see those cut pieces fall in front of me. Srinivas was fond of gossip rather than humour. Barbers always knew all the happenings in families of that area through such saloon-gossip.

When we sat on ‘the throne’, he would fold our shirt collar inside and put a cloth cover sheet to prevent hair from sticking to our dress and then start the work. The most irritating thing was to wear the same shirt or vest the next time after it is washed. Those little pieces of hair somehow entered through the collar near the neck and get stuck, pricking the skin around the neck and back.

Srinivas later used a hair dryer to impress on new customers. To us, he avoided it! Towards the end, he had been gifted by an old customer who visited from the USA with an electric machine which eased his job considerably and the cut was neater too.

There was a leather belt hung in a corner which was meant to sharpen his knife. Nowadays, the knives come in such a way that ordinary shaving blades can be slid in to its groove and used. Chalam used alum when he accidentally cut skin. A huge crystal of it always lay on the table.

Once I shared a joke at the right place at the wrong time. A young boy had been brought by his mother. I saw a dog in front of the saloon. The joke: The dog waits there to eat up the ear that falls down when the barber accidentally cuts it! The innocent boy believed it when he saw that dog and started crying to the extent that he had to be taken home, status quo. Srinivas later scolded me for this loss of a customer!

Just a few years ago, I heard the sad news of Srinivas too passing off suddenly. He had become an alcoholic. Now, this created a great problem in finding a new barber. We are always skeptical to offer our heads to new ones. A former colleague showed me one and till date I’ve certified this Shivanna too. It’s a simple saloon where I have to pay Rupees twentyfive at this juncture (=half U$D). My great grandfather paid two eight annas 110 years ago.

In his diary my great grandfather accounts for eight annas for the barber. It has to be for more than one head. Eight annas was half a rupee. May be for 2-3 as it was a joint family with many people in it.

Parlour is the fancy word these days. This is where I've been going nowadays. Also enlarge the picture and look at the English spelling on the wall below the big letters! Also note the two plants there. Many barbers plant this variety in front of their shops. I know not why, but they put all the water they use for shave at the base of those plants! My guess is, they plant them to catch the attention just like tyre vulcanizers pile up tyres beside the roads.

Srinivas’ younger brother Lakshman who was doing the sweeping of the cut hair from the floor when he was young and going to school had slowly learnt the trade as he grew up. Sometimes he would cut my hair in his learning process too. He now has his own saloon running successfully two miles away, for some years. But the newfound one is a lot closer to home. Some of old Chalam’s clients are going to Lakshman.

‘Slim and Trim’ disappeared from the ‘Society premises’ in Chamarajapuram. Those days will never return, but the cut hairs do. Hairstyling keeps on changing and the barbers will be abreast with them. But I’ve stuck on the vintage cut, even as barbers have begun to rechristen themselves as hairstylists and saloons as parlours! They will be there as long as mankind!

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Some snippets:

I played the role of the home barber to my daughters when they were young and did the job much to their satisfaction and comfort!

If a friend or kin pushes our head for fun or to tease we wont tolerate. But when the barber does it roughly to adjust his cutting angle comfort, we enjoy and cooperate!

Some pictures taken by me in different cities:

No overheads, no taxes. Pavement barber near New Delhi Railway Station entertaining a customer.

This was at Chandigarh near a shopping block. While we were having tea from a vendor next to him, we also saw a customer in a car stopping by and getting a shave on his way!

This is at Haridwar. Observe the chair and its fittings - you will notice ingenuity!

Finally, Engelberg, Switzerland! Not a saloon, parlour or hairdresser.... but simple "Hair Shop"!

Finally, I would like to link a blogpost by Sri MPV Shenoy, who has written a beautiful piece.  

Read it here. [click]

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Nature Photography can be fun

Just beginning to see the colours of Nature through the lens. Just beginning to get the hang of Nature photography. Just beginning to have a feel of the camera in the palm and fingers - the 'index' finger has to be rechristened 'clicking' finger! Just beginning to try something that I always have wanted, esp. after seeing all those wildlife shots by E.Hanumantha Rao in the Illustrated Weekly of India magazine that my father subscribed and also later met him at the Institute of Engineers after his slideshow.

The hobby has no limits, but time and purse have! So there will be compromises somewhere. These are some of my favourite shots, uploaded on TrekNature. (Haven't added new ones). Hope you enjoy watching the slides. Your responses are always welcome. Helpful and honest critiques would even be better!

I acknowledge my good friend Mr. Achyutha's generosity in sharing some of his vast knowledge [and a few accessories] on the subject [very experienced photographer, now that his clicking finger off the button, his spare time is dedicated to Homoeopathy. More of it in a separate place]. Learnt a few basics from him.

See more photos: Insects in my Eden on TrekNature

Bicycle expedition to Somanathpur

My daughters made the trip (in a van) with their group Sunday and brought this digital image. This post resulted from the instant inspiration to recall my visit to that historic site almost three decades back.

Our cricket team used to gather in the evenings for 'katte sessions' (somari katte) by Geeta Road. One evening (June 1981) on the katte, it was decided that we should go on our bicycles to T.Narasipura and Somanathpura which are about 30 kms east of Mysore. Those who had bicycles were eligible for this tour. I had my old Robin Hood. It had been fitted with new tyres (Dunlop Roadster - Cycle Rickshaw quality!) a few months before. So 60 kms of journey was not a problem. Roads were very calm in those times with sparse traffic.

Earlier, in the mid 70s, I had wandered off to Mandakalli Airport with another set of street friends to see the airport. It was actually a sleeping little airstrip (not a port!) with hardly any activity. My disappearance from home and in the street with the bicycle had made my grandmother tense. Mandakalli was only 5 miles but it meant 'very far' for me. That was my first (ad)venture on a 'long' ride on my Robin Hood.

Look at the majestic Robin Hood!

Permission for this longer trip was sanctioned from elders at home as I was now older and experienced. Nine of us had our plan chalked out. First we would go to Somanathpur via Bannur and then on the return leg, we were to come via T. Narasipur where a confluence takes place between rivers Kapila, Cauvery and Guptagamini . The places are towards Mysore's east.

The trip day closed in and I was ready with my Robin Hood in ship-shape in all respects. I had borrowed my friend Girish Nikam's box camera that could take twelve exposures. So a film roll was bought out of the budget of a few rupees! I was ready with my cricket hat (in fact, I used the one - out of many which I was to stitch later!) and my great-grandfather's goggles. Just read this description of the goggles on this bill here:

"Superior smoked neutral tinted crest pillared half-crape side-eye preservers with nickel turn-pin frame" bought through B.Kristnaswami Chetty, Optician, Madras in 1898 through an acquaintance in Shimoga. The cost was Seven Rupees and my forefather was then 30 years old. May be a group of three had ordered one each for them for a total of twenty one rupees.

These are the very goggles that protected my eyes during the journey.

Someone got the food boxes ready early in the morning in two heavy boxes (rice-bath and curd-rice). This was to be our fuel!

Everyone met at our Katte at the stipulated Sunday morning time, filled with excitement. Kashi had an American bicycle which he was not using for sometime but he had readied it for this trip. The journey was flagged off by half past six. It was a smooth start.

Just as we were about to leave Mysore border, this American bicycle chain gave way, much to our dismay. Two of them went in search of bicycle mechanics and since it was a Sunday, it was unlikely they would find one and that too so early in the morning. So the rest of us had to rest there before the rest of the journey!

We sat on the road kerbs parking our bicycles in front of us waiting and wondering with fingers crossed. There were no mobile phones then, to communicate in such crises! We depended on praying and telepathic communication!

After an hour or so, it was a heartening sight to see the two of them returning - with a smile as wide as the road and an alternate 'desi' bicycle for Kashi, leaving that 'foreign' one back in his home. This 'foreign bike' became a good topic to tease Kashi later on.

The delay was accepted and there was a 'restart'. Our tool kit was equipped with other common things but not to handle a 'chain link snap'!

The ride was smooth, as the road was 'motorable'! There were a few who wanted to show how fast they can ride despite having been agreed that we must be within range in case of eventuality. The one (Madhukara, my neighbour) who was carrying the tools sped off at the wrong time when one of our friend's bicycle tyres had a puncture half way up the route! Someone had to ride faster like in a race, to get hold of him. When we were making signals to him to stop, he thought we were challenging him and rode even faster and went out of sight! Eventually this little 'eventuality' was set right in 10-15 minutes and there were no further stutters.

We reached the destination by 9 am and it was time to open the food boxes and taste. We had a light re-fueling session before entering the beautiful Hoysala style temple carved by Jakkannachari in the 13th century. I was delighted at its neatness in design, symmetry, upkeep and its numerous lathe-turned stone pillars, beautiful idols, panels, ceilings.....

There were 12 exposures on that roll of film. I exposed 7. Some pictures I enjoyed taking:

Picture above is the group Raju, Madhukar, Raghu, Ravindra [top], Devkumar, Venkatesh, Kashi and Murali.

Someone's mischief with the camera as we reached Somanathpur temple. Now I thank him because a couple of our bicycles are seen. I was unaware of this till the roll was printed a few days later.

Beautiful carvings - each one has an individual posture.

Pillars on foreground at the edges make a beautiful view.

After sometime, we left for nearby T.Narasipur and there was an opportunity for us to be in the river waters and for yet another 'refueling session'. After the boys enjoyed the water for more than an hour it was time for the return journey as we had to reach back home before dusk. I cannot recall why I did not take even one picture at T.Narasipur!

Return journey was the toughest. The strong wind that was blowing at our chests was pushing us backwards. It is always windy (blows from west to east) in the month of June-July. At times our pedal-power was neutralized and we had to get down and push the bicycle, even in downward gradients. One Raju was blown down by the sudden wind caused by a passing truck. Luckily he fell slowly on the side of the road and not in the way of another truck that followed the first from behind! We were shocked for a moment.

We puffed and panted as we pedalled with great effort. It was so sapping that we had to rest by the roadside often in order to regain the breath. Some were heavy from 'overfueling' as well. The food boxes were empty but the tummies were full! The wind took out much air out of us!

Finally, it was a great relief to see Chamundi Hill getting bigger and bigger from our view as we inched closer to home. We reached home well before sundown. After all, it was an enjoyable trip. We again regrouped at our Katte for the evening session and expectedly, the main agenda was the trip and laughing at the funny incidents. We had quickly recouped ourselves and the tiredness in legs was felt only the next day.

Despite having ridden hundreds of miles on the scooters that entered my life later on, the Robin Hood still finds preference whenever the opportunity presents itself. A place in the verandah is alloted to my Robin Hood. Bicycling is always fun and a healthy mode of transport. The thing is, we must slow down our ways to know how beautiful a bicycle ride can be.