A Trek in Bandipur Forest

My friend Girish Nikam had planned a trek in Bandipur forest [Wildlife Santuary, a Tiger Reserve, now a National Park].  Two years before in 1981, we had done a crazy trip to its adjacent sanctuary, Nagerhole |click|.  Trekking in the forest sounded good, so I agreed to go with him.  Applying a day's leave for Friday 8th July, we set off on this 80 km. journey by bus, with me expecting to be back on Sunday.

On landing, I discovered it was not a casual trek at all, but to my big surprise, it was for the "Tiger Census"!  30-40 people, mostly young, had also come as volunteers, having hopes of interesting fauna and a sight like this during the census trek!

His Majesty - adapted as our National Animal in 1950!

[Click on all images to enlarge]

In the evening, the briefing session by the Range Officer turned out to be a laughing session to us [English-language wise].  Pug mark recording methods were explained along with other information about how we must behave in the wild forest etc.  After dinner the night was spent in a dormitory.

Early next morning a truck took us up to the nearby "Himavad Gopalswami Hill", the starting point of the trek.  Post breakfast at the heritage guest house, we were divided into 3 or 4 groups, each one to go in a different route accompanied by one range officer and one armed guard each.  The place is amazingly cold and misty in the mornings many months in the year and hence 'Himavad'. [hima=dew/mist].

All these colour pictures are from the film camera that Girish brought with him.

The sanctum sanctorum is inside.  The mist had cleared. 

We saw a herd of elephants looking like ants, roaming on those hills seen here far away. We were to go into their territory, into thick forests.

Me in Girish's sweater behind the temple, before the trek started. It was a cool morning.

I soon realized I was very ill-equipped for the trek in several ways:  not knowing where and how we would camp, not carrying warm clothes [nights in the green forests are chilly]or sheets for night stay, just one pair of socks which were on my feet and I had to return to work on Monday [being new to the job and hence no leave at credit]. I learnt that comfortable trekking shoes were needed, but I only had my ordinary sports shoes, the only pair I had, besides my cricket boots. I was wearing my cricket cap and custom-made black jeans and carrying a water bottle.  Girish was equipped with his jacket and so he lent me his sweater as I was not having my own at all. 

The drawbacks were to make me tense as I went through the day.  To add to these, I had learnt that this census would be of five days duration.  I was in a dilemma!

The trek began at about half past ten. Before we set off, we made 'walking sticks' from branches of shrubs grown behind the Temple.  

This was after trekking for two hours and resting a while.   

Beautiful views of the green forest. 

Our group taking a breather. The armed guard in khakhi is also seen. 

We were trekking in single file, making no noise.  Speaking had to be in soft tone.

The smell of the forest was heavenly.  Our group officer was explaining about the samples of dry animal poop that was in our path and what food they ate.  My sports shoes were soon proving inadequate.  In certain stretches of challenging [for newbies] terrain I had to hold on to the tall grass or embedded rocks to climb down or up slippery and steep paths. 

Mid way, we were at a place called 'Chammanahalla' for the lunch break and some freshening. It was on a small hillock.

  

The young man on the left [above] had some mountaineering experience.  He was showing some techniques on how to use our fingernails to grip and climb rocks. The depth behind that rock on which the boys are resting is not perceived in this shot. 

The enthusiastic elderly man seated centre [above] was nearly 70!  He developed breathing problems and had to be carried by the young men until he felt comfortable.  Someone's nylon rope came to the rescue as four people carried him for quite a distance even treading through difficult terrain, until he felt better. He had his own medication but was determined to continue. That was still the pre-cellphone and pre-PET bottle water era!

All the way through we were enjoying the beauty of the forest, its tranquility, its smells, listening to the sounds of the bird calls, the creaking of tree branches far away, the occasional chirp of the langurs and also enjoying the different shapes and colours, mostly green and brown, while eager to spot any pug mark on the soil or any clues the tigers might have left - that is why we were there.  Some interesting trees made us to stop and take notice.  We did not come across any tiger pug mark but we encountered fresh and steaming bear poop and dry elephant dung. 

How lucky we would have been if such a sighting had taken place!

By about 4 pm my feet started to cry, not because of tiredness but from peeled skin on my toes.  My shoes were too ill fitted for such a long trek. We had trekked about 20 kilometeres for the day when we reached Moolehole [pronounced Moolay-HoLay], our night stop.

The small rivulet Moolehole flowed silently close to the 'forest check post', the perfect ambiance to relax till daylight faded out.  This is where I also first saw the little water skimmers.  We were advised not to venture after dark as wild elephants would be wandering.

Here are two satellite-images showing locations of where we started and where we camped:

Bandipur to Gopalswami Hills - see line.

Gopalswami Hill to Moolehole Forest check post - see red circled spots.  We had trekked westward. 

A simple dinner was served.  The injury caused by the shoes to the skin on my toes were too sore.  My last hour's trek itself was a struggle.  I decided not to continue the trek.  Also, I HAD to return to work Monday.  Some of us slept in the checkpost room floor, while others slept in the adjacent block. A borrowed newspaper was my sheet to sleep while my towel and water bottle became my pillow.  Nothing to cover myself from the cold [and mosquitoes] except wearing Girish's sweater. 

This place was on National Highway 212 connecting our state Karnataka and Kerala.   Buses plied far apart but goods lorries were frequent.  After breakfast next morning, I prepared to leave for home.  the groups had left for the trek, minus me. Soon, a lorry came by. The driver agreed to drop me at Mysore.

We fear of being bitten by some creature in the wild forest, but I was bitten by my own shoes and had to shy away!

-------

After I left, the group encountered elephants at a water hole.  Girish explained his experiences of seeing elephants in the wild, up so close.  

They had stopped overnight at Gundre and enjoyed a campfire. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Bandipur was once the private hunting ground for the Mysore Kings. Animals were shot and taken as souvenirs and trophies and proudly displayed the taxidermied animals, their skins, heads and horns in their rooms and decades later we go there to count the remaining numbers!!  Imagine the abundant animal and tiger population then and a hundred years before.  Now in a forest area of 874 sq. km we were trying our luck to see if any of the few big cats [tigers] left, left their pug marks, leave alone the chances of sighting them.  Not surprisingly, we found none on the first day and I know not if the group found any later.  Nagarhole and Bandipur forests in a combined area of 1500 sq. km is said to be the largest [among the 47] tiger reserve in the country.

A few shots from the web. 

Maharaja Jayachamaraja Wadiyar [pictured below] who was also hunting, later was instrumental in banning shooting in the forests [1960s] as soon as it was realized the wild animals had to be protected. It was a fancy among the Royal people or dignitaries visiting India to go on hunting expeditions, including from the time of King Edward VII [early 20th century].

What a huge animal they shot here! 

It was a great fancy in those days to pose for a photo with the 'trophy' they shot. 

Picture below: 1930s. Maharaja Krishnaraja Wadiyar IV (the then ruler of Mysore - in whites) with his hunting team.

Bisons, deer, leopards, bears etc. were also hunted for sport, not to speak of poaching. 

It is estimated that there were 40,000 [forty thousand] tigers in India at the beginning of the 20th century. Reduced to 4000 by 1965 due to indiscriminate hunting and poaching, the latter still a bane. Bandipur alone had 75 in 1973 and the good news is that the number rose to about 300 by 2010. 

A few banknotes featuring Tiger from my collection:

Obverse

Reverse [see years of issue]

We reach an era observing "International Tiger Day" on July 29.

A crazy trip to Nagerholay

The game of Cricket had brought me to the Nikams who owned a Handicrafts Shop.  It was in the very heart of one of Mysore's popular streets renown for shopping.  Girish had become a team mate in 1979.  Frequent visits to his shop to spend leisure time revealed our common interests.  One of them, besides Cricket, was Trekking.

Girish at "Mysore Curios".

Their little shop attracted many people in the form of customers or 'casual chatters'.  The Nikam brothers were so fond of 'meeting people'.  One such casual visitor was a certain Deve Gowda [we later shortened it as DG].  He was always clad in a full shirt, a towel on the left shoulder and a loincloth [panchay] up to the ankle, all in white cloth. It was a typical appearance of a neat villager.  His expression was blank and whatever he spoke seemed to carry no water.  His craziness stood out on various occasions.  It was 1981 and this post is dedicated to Mr.Deve Gowda because it was he who started it all! Read on.

DG seemed to have all the time in the world and he was visiting the shop one day.  A casual chat about wild animals and forests had somehow begun and turned serious.  Because it had drifted to the subject of tigers.  DG began boasting about his brevity and justifying it by showing some old injury marks on his person, relating stories to them about how he fought with a tiger in his village!!  He said he would take us to the forests and show us tigers.  We believed him.  A certain Dr.Gopinath, Girish's friend, who was also there, said he too would join the trip. A date and time was agreed and fixed by the four of us. Girish had two film cameras and he also saw an opportunity to take a few shots with them during the trip. He asked me to use the 'black and white' while he used the one loaded with colour film.  Both had 12 exposures each.

  Myself, Girish and Gopinath assembled at the Bus Stand as scheduled, at 7 AM, prepared with a light luggage for a couple of nights stay.  Deve Gowda arrived as casually as he had sounded and his arrival reflected it too, but he came.  All his luggage was on his person, which was the usual whites he was wearing!  When asked about his luggage, 'I can manage.' was his response.  The towel on the left shoulder serves many purposes!  Long later, when his older namesake, who also wears the same costume became the Chief Minister of our state, I recalled this 'tiger-DG'.

Our exact 'tiger-destination' was still a suspense because we had left it to our Mr.Deve Gowda.  He made us sit in some bus that was ready, saying it would go to Bandipur [Bandipur is a Tiger Reserve].  This bus was set to go to some place in the neighbouring state of Kerala, but certainly in another route!  He did not appear to have any knowledge of topography at all. The driver was ready to get the signal from the conductor who was already issuing tickets to the passengers.

This was the short exchange between DG and the bus conductor [BC] when he came to issue tickets:

DG: 4 tickets to Bandipur. 

BC: Bandipur?  This bus is not going to Bandipur. [We looked at each other.]

DG: Then where is it going?  "...." /some village name he uttered/

BC: It will pass through Nagerhole. [It is 100 km from here]

DG presented that famous look again.  

All of us agreed and decided to go to Nagerhole [pronounced - 'Naagarholay'] as we had no choice.  Four tickets were bought and we landed in Nagerhole before noon.  Nagerhole National Park has been renamed as Rajiv Gandhi National Park since.  As we approached, we saw a herd of deer.

Let us not forget that DG has brought us here to show us tigers.

The three of us had already decided that this DG character should stay separately.  Park's official lodging facility was soon allotted. Lunch was taken followed by a brief rest and imagining what our DG will do next. All our jokes by now revolved around DG and his antics. It was great fun anyhow.  In the meantime, we had booked for a short safari in the Forest Vehicle for the evening.  In the one hour safari into the jungle we came across many deer, bisons, wild dogs, elephants, langurs, monkeys, peahens and peacocks and wild hens.

Bisons - mother and calf, in fading light of the evening.

Peahens and Peacocks were abundant around the lodge and we spent the next morning watching them for some time and then came across during our loitering, some tamed elephants belonging to the forest department, eating the fed grass. 

Photo by Girish - Peahen.

 We already had our breakfast. We had come to a firm conclusion that Deve Gowda, the great 'tiger fighter' must be packed off by bus at the earliest. He 'unhesitantly' agreed to go by the next bus, as if he knew our plan!  We had enough of him already.  He never seemed to make any attempt to show us any tiger!!  He had given the  impression that tigers could be spotted like street dogs near our houses!  We came to know that in about 500 square kilometres of that forest reserve, there were only a handful of them living in that territory. 

In the meantime, Girish was interested in some adventure since this DG-tiger element was a total flop.  We discussed about how safe it is to risk walking along the road towards Hunsur.  There was total agreement.  

We saw an old tribal couple cutting firewood and went up to ask for their inputs about our plan. 

The man was Chella, a native having lived all his life there and he guessed his own age as 80. 

He took us to his hut also.

DG, Gopi, Girish, Chella and relatives at his hutment.  Chella filled us with courage that tigers, if at all we were lucky to spot, will not attack us.  Tigers were not the only fear.

Skipping lunch, we decided to leave, after settling the lodge bills by noon.  It was risky to walk without arms protection in a forest reserve, even if it is on the road leading to Hunsur 60 kilometres away. Our only weapons were a long stick and luck.  We also discussed our plan with some forest official and he left the decision to us.  Our plan was to hitch hike some vehicle that passes towards Hunsur after some miles.  The sky was overcast and there was a light intermittent drizzle.  I also had a slight cold as well. So Girish lent me his jerkin.

Finally we slowly and silently got the feet moving, single file by the side of the road.  At times, we stopped to enjoy the tranquility of the forest at its best.  Jungle sounds are amazing.  Even when a busy city sleeps, it will not be as 'tranquil' as a forest.  In the jungles, we can 'listen to tranquility'!  Distant sounds of some elephant breaking a branch or trumpeting far away, invisible little birds making their melodious calls high up on the trees, monkeys and langurs chattering and jumping the branches and the insects making their sounds, are all heard so clearly. No other sound mixes with that. It was such a soothing, calming feeling.  That was the lovely music of the forest.

Tranquility of the forest.

We were aware that even a little sound by us may alert some wild animal lurking behind the bush.  So whatever words we exchanged were with soft voice, almost a whisper.  One of us had to keep vigil at the bushes on the left, the other on the right and the lead man looked ahead.  Since it was the rainy season, the shrubbery was green and lush.  And that increased the chances of animals easily being 'unspotted'. Their 'camouflagiblity' was high.  

We came across our path a large pug mark of some cat in the soggy, puddled earth.  It looked fresh. We got frightened.  It was in the direction perpendicular to the road which meant that it had crossed the road.  Since it was overcast, the bushes appeared darker and the jungle silence added to our fright.  We trod even softer, all our senses in top alert.  After some time, the fear waned.

We had started at noon.  After just over three hours of non stop walk we reached a certain point where there was a curve in the road and a culvert.  The road ahead was obscured by the bushes.  We decided to have a short rest on the culvert and have a slice of bread which Girish had salvaged in his bag.  We were tired and hungry.    

There was no breeze. The sound of dry twigs on the forest floor crackling and the soft ruffle of leaves seemed to come from just a few metres away.   We looked in that direction for any clue, but there was nothing.  We feared that they were being created by an elephant nearby.  We had also noticed close to our path a few trees with slim trunks being freshly broken. The leaves were still green and 'unwilted'.  We also had crossed a heap of fresh elephant dung which had increased our heartbeats!

Girish posing at the culvert and curve before we continued.

Me in Girish's jerkin and my cricket cap on.  Photo by Gopi.

Now, we were really afraid to move further as the way ahead was obscured by the tall shrubbery. It does not look dark in the above photos. What if a tiger or panther [leopard] pounces on us from behind one of those bushes, we imagined. The bushes were so close to the road!

Gathering all the courage which Chella had given us, we resumed our trek extra cautiously now.  After about 10 minutes or so, we sighted a couple of cows with neck harness.  It was such a reassuring sighting!  That meant we were near some village and we felt somewhat safe from tigers but not pachyderms. And we were right.  Just at that time, we heard the sound of an approaching vehicle behind us.  Till now, not a single vehicle had passed from either side for all the three plus hours.  This was the first, going in the direction we were going.  It was a lorry.

We waved our hands and the driver kindly stopped.  "Hunsur?".  "Yes, he said."  He asked us to climb into the empty space meant for carrying materials. Our excitement knew no bounds.  We felt as if we were rescued from the jaws of great danger.  And it appeared it was so!  The lorry driver asked us if we were crazy to be walking like that!  He had seen a wild tusker uprooting small trees near that very curve and culvert .  We realized that it had come out of 'hiding' after we had moved ahead after the bread-break!   It was very angry and that we were extremely lucky, he added.   He said we were extremely lucky.  We then realized that those twig-cracking sounds that we had heard were made by that same tusker he was referring. What if it had spotted us?  What if we saw some animal ahead of us?  How do we react?   All this we had planned before we started the trek. We would have panicked had it literally appeared in front of us!

We might have been on foot for roughly 10-15 kilometres which we had covered in about 3 1/2 hours.  Another hour or so in the lorry took us to Hunsur. We thanked the lorry driver in such a manner that he had saved our lives.  

We did a couple of photography experiments also. A big spider web was spotted on our way.  The jerkin was used as background.  

We wanted to have a blur background but did not achieve, since it was only a box camera!  I took this picture in the moving lorry.

After reaching Hunsur, we returned to Mysore that evening in a bus.

We neither spotted any tiger in the forest, nor do I recall having spotted our DG thereafter in his shop. Reminiscing it after 30 years about how our 'carefreeness' and daring resulted in such a thrill, thanks to this mysterious DG.  I doubt if well planned trips give that much thrill!

~~~~

Not to be totally disappointed with tiger sighting DG promised, let us have some consolation to see this tiger caged at the Darjeeling zoo:

ooOoOoOoOoOoo

Empty Photography

I was requested to help out in the role of a photographer for my sister-in-law's wedding.  Chickmagalur was the venue.  I reluctantly agreed [for my first stint], since 'I had a camera'. 1993 was still the 'film camera era'.  

'My' camera was actually my friend Girish Nikam's, of Russian make.  He had bought that camera a many years earlier for four hundred rupees [cheap] from a studio owner whom he knew, on Dhanvantri Road.  He had left it behind in his parents' house as he was not using it any longer and also had left the city for greener pastures.  It was a second hand camera which I think was 'repaired and sold' off to him because he was looking for a camera that used 35 mm films.

Here is the "Cosmic Symbol" Russian Camera, fully manual.

I had given my obsolete [it used paper film rolls - 12/roll] box camera to Girish some time ago before he left Mysore.  I wanted it back for its square lenses and also for its bit of sentimental value - this was the first camera that was bought in the family to coincide with my sacred thread ceremony.  Its cost was a hefty one hundred rupees 40 years ago.  There were others more expensive also at that time.  So when I went to his parents' house to ask for that camera.  Girish's mother felt bad to know that it was mine because she had disposed off as 'junk' with other items.  That was bad news to me.  Seeing my dejection,  she remembered Girish's Russian camera lying idle and brought it out to me saying 'you can have this', instead.  That is how it came to me!  I had written to Girish later about this!


It became a new toy for me to open up and experiment, as was my wont. After exposing a couple of black and white rolls [35mm] taking my kid's pictures, I had noticed that there was a slight glitch in the winding mechanism.  Black and white, because it was much cheaper to experiment than colour film.  It was taking reasonably good pictures, but the winding was not happening properly.  I set it right myself after diagnosing the exact problem.  My watch-repair tools and some common sense came in handy.   I shifted to colour rolls, once I was fully convinced.  It took reasonably good shots.  

I was looking for a flash.  I came to know that my cricket team mate from Hyderabad had one that he was not using and he was kindly willing to part with me.  He later sent it through his local team mate when we met in another city for another tournament!  That is how this got to me, a few weeks before the Chickmagalur wedding I was to use.

Flash 

The camera and the flash [in good working condition] were both 'mine' now. A few dry runs were made to be assured about the flash’s performance.  It worked well most times.  'Most times' is not good!  It has to be every time!   Erratic.  I discovered that it was due to some glitch only in electrical contact.  It was getting 'shorted' somewhere.  The camera was now working well outdoors though. 

For the wedding at Chickmagalur, in order to be safe, I had borrowed from another friend, a simple automatic 'aim and shoot' camera with built-in flash.  This was supposed to be a stand-by arrangement.  Flash was of utmost necessity.   Taking shots indoors without flash was not feasible though not impossible.  

I loaded a new roll of colour film into my camera and another to the borrowed one as well. My friend had orally explained how to load the film into it.  This was the first time I was loading a film into an automatic camera, myself.

On the way to Chickmagalur, we stopped over for a brief visit to the beautiful temple at Belur late evening. For my third shot here with my camera inside the temple the flash worked normally.  For the next shot, it would not work!  What I had expected, happened even before we even reached the destination!  Time after dinner at Chickmagalur was spent in trying to shoot the trouble.   I had taken my tools, expecting such a situation.  But the exact glitch was undetectable.   Without flash, the purpose of this camera became invalid as all the shots were to be indoors.  I decided not to carry it for the event the next day, but to go armed only with the borrowed second option camera. 

At the wedding ceremony, I was on a roll, with a film roll, in a new role.  The 'photographer' in me was on song, clicking away, waiting for 'right moments' to capture.  I even made people stand for snaps where and how I fancied, like a veteran photographer with an experience of covering one hundred events!   They obeyed me like school kids!!  *Smile, smile*!   I was to 'take pictures' only in one roll of 35-36 exposures.  

This is a rough cartoon I had drawn in 1977, imitating one of R.K.Laxman's.

When we returned to Mysore there were still 3 or 4 exposures left  – according to the camera counter.  To use up the full roll, some random shots were taken and it was taking the 37th frame, then the 38th!  It would not stop as it should and I was told that rewinding happens auto at the end of the roll.  Even 36 frames/roll is a rarity. So I used the option of rewind button, operated by motor.  Whirrrl.... whirrrl... it kept doing that for a long while!  Common sense told me - since I have not rewound by auto before - that it was strangely taking too long.  I dared opening the back to verify.  

Flash and Camera that got me tricked instead of being clicked!

I took the camera to the studio for 'developing and printing'.  While the man at the counter was opening the back to take out the cartridge, I told him my doubt.  My doubt was a fact and I was looking at it!  'Oh no!'  The film stayed put exactly the way I had put. The slots at the edge must have slipped as the cover was closed while loading.  Winding was also automatic in that camera.  I was shown where I had gone wrong in loading the film, though the camera counter kept running!  That was the misleading point. 

That I used that 'unused' roll for myself later on is another matter. Now I had two rolls.  You know where the other was! 

My one-and-only-time role of a photographer turned out to be an unwitting drama.   Years later, I can recall and laugh.  Laugh because, there was a professional photographer on duty there.  There was also a lesson or two learnt from this episode.

Memories of Cricket World Cup Final 1983

The historic moment that changed the course of Indian Cricket
~~~~~~~~~


 Ever since I watched the magnificent 1983 Cricket World Cup Final (at Lord's in England), of course, on TV, each final of the subsequent World Cups never fails to pull me back to that evening when India made history. 


TVs were only in Black and White. Colour TVs were yet to arrive.  TVs had arrived in Bangalore prior to 1980, but in Mysore, cumbersome antennae with many 'elements' in it had to be erected on very high poles.  At times it necessitated tying wires to neighbouring houses to prevent the high pole from collapsing in the wind.  They had to beg them to allow the wires to be tied! All this in an attempt to watch programmes from the Bangalore Doordarshan (Television Station).  Signals were beamed in certain directions only and rather feeble in other 'out of focus' areas.  

Not all matches were telecast like today.  TV coverage was still in the developing stage.  Doordarshan had telecast the semi-final match in which India beat England and the World Cup bug had bitten many. A month later, video tapes of this match were available and we had watched it at AIISH campus where some people had arranged.  I had watched the semi-final live in bits and pieces on my friend Keerthi’s TV and it was sort of a circus!  It was not at Keethi's home, but at his friend’s.  It was in a locality called Gokulam which was beginning to grow at that time.  His friend's TV had broken down and since signals were 'in focus' in that area, we took Keerthi's huge TV there.  What a craze!  TV signals were reaching there in good quality from the TV Station in Bangalore 90 miles away which was so heartening.  Repeating this circus for the 'final' was not possible with Keerthi for some reason and I was wondering where to watch. It was a ‘final’ that HAD to be watched, no matter where. India was to meet the mighty West Indies.  I was not alone in this quest.

Come June 25, I met Girish Nikam, my cricket teammate and another cricket buff. He was as determined as I to watch the Final, somewhere!   Girish told he would find some place as he had many contacts.  So as planned, I went to his house on my bicycle that afternoon. It was about 3 O'Clock and the match had begun. India was batting first. We were listening to the commentary from BBC on his Bush 8-band vacuum radio. 


After some time, he inquired on the phone (luckily there was a phone in his house) and found that there was a friend close by who possessed a 'telly' (TV).  I left my bicycle in Girish’s house and pillioned him on his scooter to catch the action. But we were disappointed to see such an awful TV reception there. For that moment, we felt contented even as the dots and scratches annoyed us to form very fuzzy pictures which was quite a strain to the eyes.  It was ridiculous but that was the only choice for the time. We wondered how they watched other programmes on it!  Come to think of it now, we cannot tolerate even a minor disturbance on the screen and we call up the Cable Network chap and complain!  That radio commentary guided us to know who was doing what. Such was the extremely poor quality. By then, West Indies had already begun their chase of 183.

Girish tried another source over the phone from there. By that time, West Indies were already two or three down. Viv Richards was going great guns.  Soon, we heard a huge roar on radio.  The commentators were describing Kapil Dev taking a beautiful catch to send back the danger man Richards, while we watched the 'snowy' pictures.  But we could not make out anything from the 'visual'.  Audio was equally worse.

Richards' airy stroke that turned the match India'a way.


While that brightened India’s hopes Girish’s telephone call brightened ours – to watch better pictures. Lo and behold! He had found someone in Gokulam, the 'in focus' area.  So we rushed to the new venue, a 15-minute ride.  It was Girish’s friend’s friend’s house.  We felt like having won a jackpot!



(Watch the video of that catch - it looks easy, but it certainly was not!)

Our joy knew no bounds.  The reception and quality was almost crystal clear!  What a soothing sight after the snowy picture!  And to our greatest delight, it was a rare colour TV as well!  The Lord's ground was such a sight to my eyes esp. after that previous experience!  We witnessed West Indian wickets tumbling. In a short while, about 15 lucky strangers gathered in front of the telly! It was 'someone's home!  They were so kind to entertain such an unforeseen audience for such an occasion!


The mighty Carribeans had incredibly perished, like bunnies, that too to India, for 140.  

Victory! Stumps suddenly become mementos to Indians!


I must tell here that till 1983, they were 60-over games.  It was in vogue probably because English summers have very long days and the first three World Cups were in England.  India were all out 183 in 54.4 overs and the West Indies were all out 140 in 52 overs.  Talk about run rate!


After the TV coverage ended, all of us profusely thanked the residents and left, ecstatic, having enjoyed every moment of live action that we could.  Nobody had ever experienced anything like that before.


On our way back, some youngsters were shouting and celebrating on the streets. The Medical College Hostel students were already making merry on Jhansi Lakshmi Bai Road.  It was well past midnight.  Girish dropped me back home.  I told him I would take my bicycle from his home the next morning.  Worried and anxious elders wondering my whereabouts heaved a huge sigh of relief on my arrival. In those not-too-many-telephone-days, I neither thought of informing them or cared for dinner either. Such was the intensity of thrill that we forgot hunger! It was an unforgettable adventure.

The next day in the office, our cricket-loving colleague (late) Srinivasa Rao wanted to share his joy of India's victory with us, four in number, our 'cofee group'.  He was a fine gastronomer also.  He announced he would host a breakfast for our group the next morning at the famous "Mylari Hotel" in Mysore's Nazarbad renown for Masala Dosas (picture below).  It was also the beginning of a new chapter for our 'coffee group' that also earned another name - "Mylari Group"! Read about it and more in my exclusive blogpost here:

http://mysoreanmusings.blogspot.com/2007/11/masale-dose-memories-and-mania.html

In the days that followed, it was time to hunt for magazines on news stands for issues covering in detail about the World Cup, esp. the Final. They were supposed to be 'ones to collect', for their pictures and articles!  They were in great demand, quite obviously.  Video cassette tapes of this final were also available many weeks later and I got to see the full match.  But nothing to beat live action.

It's time now for the 2011 edition - tomorrow, April 2.  
India Vs Sri Lanka (Rama Vs Ravana?). 


I will be watching Doordarshan which has devised yet another novel way to harass the viewers - by switching off original commentary from the venue and attaching its own team of commentators who describe the game sitting in the studio at Delhi, watching TV just like us!