Mandakalli Airport and some memories

Writing this on Vijayadashami 2010 of what they also arguably call as 400th Dasara.  The famous procession went on, as we planned a visit on scooter in the opposite direction, to Mandakalli.  

Will take you to Mandakalli in a while.  Be patient, there is lot of rush!

Hundreds of village folk alighted in front of our gate which was a virtual bus stand (one off arrangement by the traffic cops).  They had made a mess as is their wont, but some heavy rain in the evening cleaned things up saving our municipality (corporation) from cleaning.  It usually rains on this particular day every year with near-precise timing as per the Almanac which is published annually (Vontikoppal Panchanga).  As such people who are aware of it carry an umbrella with the when they go to witness the Dasara Procession.  

Now to Mandakalli.  Pushing my scooter (not the one seen above) out of the gate amidst a forest of village folk - men, ladies and kids and a fleet of buses adding to blockage, I started journey with my two pillions. 

My first visit to Mandakalli was around 1972.  We could not measure the distance from our house then. Now our scooter odometer did it.  It is 12 kms.  Now I know that our group then bicycled that far and back and never felt tired!!  Scroll mid way into this blogpost to read a few lines where I have reminisced that 'adventure'.  

Now, going on the same route on my scooter brought back memories of that adventure.  Road is so so and also narrowish to cope with such heavy and ever increasing traffic and we hear of many accidents on that road (Mysore-Nanjangud) often.  So I kept left, like these buffaloes and reached safely!

I remember in 1972 that there was just one or two small rooms at that "Mandakalli Aerodrome" as it was called then.  My friend Capt.Anup Murthy gives a more vivid picture of that place in his blog of how it was.  We were not allowed inside by those one or two persons present there.

When we were young, we were thrilled to see airplanes flying in Mysore which was usually during Dasara. As soon as we heard the roar from the sky, we would scamper out and look up where it was. Those flights were for joy-rides over the city.  Once my late uncle was to board one such flight at Mandakalli, but was held back to go on the next round.  As luck would have it, that particular flight encountered a snag and a serious accident was averted in the form of a small crash.  And with it also crashed my uncle's dream of flying!  

My grandfather used to boast that he had flown once from Mysore to Bangalore in the 1940s or so when someone took him there in a small plane - his only flight.  We were hearing these stories with gaped mouths.  He used to say he reached Bangalore in 20 minutes which in itself was a great thing.  Steam-engine trains took almost 4 hours and road journey was no less.

Flying in an airplane was a very distant dream.  But suddenly our govt. gave opportunities to promote tourism in certain areas.  So there were were, sitting in an aircraft for the first time two years ago, a 'dream' was being fulfiled!   

Also during Dasara time, some Circus companies used to drop pamphlets from the air to advertise themselves.  Those small aircrafts were coming from Mandakalli and we wondered where that airstrip is (in the 60s). It was a sight to behold, when we spotted the plane and then pieces of paper wafting in a zig-zag movement as they came down.  We could not reach them as they fell scattered out of our reach in some other locality! It was fun, anyway.

Amidst much dilly-dallying and numerous hurdles, an Airport has been "finally" opened (actually it was inaugurated 2-3 times!!) and some real activity is going on.  Hopefully they continue beyond Dasara.  We went to see how it is and even got to see a Bangalore flight from a distance take position on the tarmac.  The Chamundi Hill provides a lovely backdrop but some experts say the hill is a hindrance to air safety and the location of the strip itself is not very suitable.  Today, we looked at it the same way when the first shopping mall came up in the city! 

Mysore is on the air map and Mandakalli has changed over the years.  Land value in its vicinity have shot up (only methinks) but some say that they are also endangered because the AAI (Airport Authority of India) may 'grab' in future when they expand.. But this is only hearsay.  

 When we often traveled to Nanjangud by taxi in the 60s, the first thing I used to notice as soon as my grandfather pointed out that we are passing Mandakalli Aerodrome, was the air sock wobbling in the wind.  It was clearly visible in the field then, at some distance.  When I saw this today, I 'nostalgiated'. 

They have a nice airport with shiny glass and floor like this:

... but the one thing I did not like is this:  Dumped and uncleared garbage. They have chosen this nice corner!

 I'm sure they will get rid of this habit and also systematize its clearance properly. 

I took some pictures and they are available here on facebook.

Let Mysore soar!

My first bicycle and more..

My first bicycle
Cycle riding has always been fun to kids. We never had a tricycle, except for my father’s childhood tricycle which was unusable. So, like all children, there were silent dreams. Eight years old was too old for a tricycle and so it was time for bigger things. I was bought a blue-coloured little bicycle, with hard rubber tyres and support wheels for the rear wheel from the old Sachidananda Cycle Mart, [next to Olympia Theatre], whose owner was a client of my grand father and a very reliable supplier.

We used to be on the roads as freely as none can imagine now – they were all ours. Because of sparse traffic in those days with just an occasional bicycle or a scooter that passed by. Hardly few autorickshaws and cars to trouble the playing-on-the-street kids. Even then, my grandmother was scared of allowing me to go to the road with my little bicycle. My route was supposed to be within the sights of our Devaparthiva road and not anywhere beyond. But sometimes I would escape to the next road to make a ‘round’. I learnt to ride without those support wheels very quickly and even taking the hands off the handle, on the move. Scraped knees and elbows commonly resulted from the various acrobatics and stunts I enjoyed performing, mostly to please myself. I had seen them in circus but I did not know they were manipulated bicycles!! Decades later, this was given away to my twin cousins who used it before disposing it off. It lived more than its full life.

Our bicycles
In 3 or 4 years, I must have covered many miles on our own street alone, riding this little beauty. I was growing taller and was trying my hand at the three other senior bicycles we had at that time at home. One was my grandfather’s 1914-Sunbeam which he alone rode [which is still functional but put to rest, unable to maintain in condition]. The second was my father’s 1958 Raleigh [my maternal uncle lost it in the mid-eighties when he had parked near a bank -a great loss]. The third was my uncle’s 1958 Robin Hood [which had a shiny brass handle grip], which I still use even today with great pleasure. This was bought 'second hand' by him from that old cycle mart for Rs.150.

I had the liberty to use the last two. Often I would take one of them out to learn, with the ‘cross-pedal’ method because I was not tall enough to reach the seat. Scraped knees continued! Much blood was shed, but not tears!

Cycle mechanic
The only times I got chances to ride the Sunbeam were when my grandfather asked me to get the air filled at Shivaram’s shop [cycle mechanic at the end of the street]. I would pay two paise to fill air for one tyre of three paise for both. The rates were later raised to three and five paise. It was this Shivaram who repaired all our bicycles for nearly 40 years till recently, until one day we found that he was no longer fit and unable to walk or sit due to his bad knee. Another opportunity for me was when he [rarely] went on tour. He would ask me to ride a round and keep it back so that it does not get ‘rusty’. If anybody used it without his knowledge he would come to know just by the feel of it – such was his feel of his much cared vehicle that was always in top shape and both survived a minor accident once!

Me the mechanic!
I have once or twice ‘overhauled’ my Robin Hood and I enjoyed doing it to my own ‘machine’. Since tools were at home, I learnt meddling things which has helped! My father got me some tools and I later bought a pump that prevented me to run to the mechanic every time.

‘My’ Robin Hood
By my 12th and 13th year, I was tall enough to ride the Robin Hood from the saddle. After my uncle’s death, my maternal uncle was using it for a short time and later when my cousin needed it, it came back home. My cousin’s untimely death elevated me to the ‘ownership’ of this lovely bicycle when my younger brother was too small for it. I could go where I wished and found pride when I occasionally took it to my high school, though it was just a 10-minute walk from home. Taking cue from my grandfather, I too never liked it to be used by others and this trait in me is as famous as his! It has also participated in a few "slow cycle races" and won me a prize or two.

I still use it, though occasionally.
This is from Oct. 2009:

Creative Cariappa

There was a high-school classmate Cariappa. His creativity was applied to his Raleigh bicycle and used to copy some of them to my Robin Hood. The one that impressed me was the ‘brake light’ that delighted everybody. Apply the brake and a red light on the mud guard would light up. He had made a switch which I copied.

Our “flight” to Mandakalli
Now riding on long tours had been heard and we had not much chance because it was listed as adventurous. A group of senior neighbourhood boys [hope my memory of these names are right - Narendra, Raju, Hari, Ganapati] planned to ride to Mandakalli Airport about 4 miles away. 4 miles was a long way in those days! I joined that party one summer afternoon and I was about 14-15. I had seen Mandakalli only from the road which my grandfather never missed showing us on our trips to Nanjangud [after he showed us the 'Ennehole']. There were small planes that flew to Bangalore occasionally, but there was no regular service and my grandfather had flown to Bangalore once [1960s]. That it did in just 20 minutes amazed us compared to the 4 hours by the chug-chug train.

Our plan thrilled me so that I could get a chance to see a plane! I rode my Robin Hood but not informing home. The ‘long’ ride was a pleasure, but much to our disappointment, the aircraft was not there. By the time I returned home sheepishly, my grandmother was waiting at the familiar spot at the gate. About two hours must have passed since I went ‘missing’ and she was happy I had returned. Not much questions because we boys always went missing often as it was summer vacation. As long as I remained in her ‘sights’ she never worried.

To Somnathpur

http://www.mysore.org.uk/excursions/somnathpur.html
I was now grown up and had gained the confidence of the elders and another long trip on the bicycle fell in place. Our new group of cricket friends – 8 of us - had planned a trip to Somnathpur and T.Narasipur which was to be a 40 mile route. I had oiled my Robin Hood well and it did take me smoothly without a stutter. But the start was stuttered! Even before we left Mysore border, Kashi’s ‘foreign’ bicycle chain gave way and since it was a Sunday no mechanic had opened shop early in the morning. Another bicycle was got and all the rest of the group waited on the roadside till he came. There was a delay of more than an hour. It was the first time I saw the lovely temple of Somnathpur. Girish Nikam had joined our club and I had borrowed his box camera to take one roll of pictures – just 12. Our heavy food basket was carried by one boy and cycle repair kit by another.

I was stunned by the beauty of the stone carvings, esp. the lathe turned pillars [observe in the edge of this picture]and the perfect symmetry of design.

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

Our return trip was via T.Narsipur where River Cauvery flows. Most of us had a second lunch there spending time near water. From here, tummies loaded, pedaling back home was the toughest part as we had to put all our might to beat the strong Aashada wind. One fellow was thrown off the road by the air pushed by a bus moving in the opposite direction!

When most of the others later bought scooters, we made a trip to Nagarahole (75 miles) and again to Srirangapatna (10 miles), but pedaling remains a ‘nothing-like-it’ fun.

I still prefer pedaling my good old Robin Hood to which I myself fitted recently with probably one of the last pairs of Dunlop cycle tyres available. Whenever I get the opportunity ‘he’ is always raring to take me anywhere!

P.S:

Browsing the Net, looking for Robin Hood, took me to an interesting site: http://www.jimlangley.net/brake/brake.html

Look here for a fantastic collection of Bicycle 'Head Badges'! Unique hobby.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/nottingham/360/raleigh_factory/factory_floor_01.shtml

The Raleigh Cycle Company manufactured Robin Hood bicycles. The head badge on my cycle says it was in Asansol, India. [parts perhaps assembled there]. On the handlebar, it is imprinted "Made in England".

My Aero-memories

My Aero-memories

The flying object has always fascinated man. No wonder the Wright Brothers made it possible to sit and fly inside it! The Aeroplane was a very curious object for the Mysroeans in the 1960s, if not before and to some extent, even now. A small airfield south of the city at Mandakalli village was from where small aircrafts operated mostly, if my memory serves right, for the NCC and for pleasure trips during the Dasara season. I cannot name the aircrafts like Capt. Anup Murthy Perhaps he will know which were the ones that we saw in the air during the 60s and also more about them.

Throughout the 1960s, each time on our way to Nanjangud [often in one Khalaq’s Hillman Taxi which had the license number of 77] with our family, my grandfather first used to show us the ‘Yennehole’ and then the Mandakalli airfield from his front window seat. My memories of that vast, open glade were of a small, lone building and the fluttering striped cloth tube – the wind direction indicator. They appeared distant from the road.

My grandfather used to remember his lone trip by air from there to Bangalore [no idea which year and for what purpose, but I assume it to be in the late 40s or early 50s] and that it took just about 20 minutes. Later my uncle used to tell a little story of how the flight, prior to his, for a joy ride was thwarted due to a technical snag causing a minor mishap before take-off, during the Dasara season in the early 60s. He could not undertake later, forever.

I was thrilled to be there at Mandakalli among a group of friends in the early 70s on a bicycle ‘adventure’ .

During the time of Dasara, Circus shows were common [opposite the Palace]. As advertisement and attraction, besides the joy rides, the pamphlets used to be dropped to the streets from those small aeroplanes occasionally, but we only saw them waft down and fall somewhere else.

The sound of an aeroplane always brought children out of homes, looking up in the direction of the sound, because it was not common. Nobody notices a huge aircraft flying low in Bangalore or Mumbai because they have airports there and it is as common as birds! Here in Mysore, it still remains a curious object. In recent times, the Helicopters bringing in the Netas to Mysore also make us look up in awe. Even now, a jet airliner leaves a long smoke trail in Mysore's west - southwest sky occasionally.

In the mid 60s, I was there as a little boy at the Bangalore airport to receive an uncle returning home from the US. I have vague memories of that. Still fresh is my visit to Cochin's Army Base to see a friend in 1995. He had taken me inside a stationary helicopter [hundreds of meters and controls!!] which he was taking care. By the way, I also saw and went inside a huge, famous and old ship that was touring the world, selling books. [Will get back and add its name]. Coming back to edit when the name popped up! It's Doulos, the world's oldest sailing ship!

And in 2001 our cricket team had been taken to the Airport to see how the Meterological Dept. functioned [they were organizing the tournament there]. That was when I saw how weather was predicted and how they helped air traffic.

There was one "Gunda" a tenant's relative living upstairs. He was an "Air Wing Cadet" in his college and I used to get his waste balsa wood pieces to try and make my own model, using magazine pictures as a base. I made two, one a rough model, but the other is my favourite Concorde [pictured above]. I once saw with him [and also at a modelling show] how a tiny engine was fitted into a flying model. It made a sputtering sound to drive a propeller. I was satisfied with my "Air France" showcase model and the paper planes I made.