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".

Krishnaraja Police Station-Temple: memories

"Keep your bicycles in, bring stamp papers and pay the penalty." said the police constable to me and my friend who were riding out for some errand. He had caught us from behind an avenue tree trunk, for riding our bicyles without lights, a reasonably serious offence that brought in some revenue to the department. That happened right in front of the Krishnaraja Police Station, near old Agrahara. Riding without lights in front of a police station! How daring! I had the dynamo fitted, but its friction to the wheel meant extra pedaling effort and so I had kept it disconnected while my neighbour-friend, one Madhukara, had nothing at all. The year was about 1979.

Sheepishly obeying, we pushed our bicycles in to the police station's open yard marking the first time of my setting foot in a police station for a traffic offence. And, that was the first time I saw that lovely idol of Lord Krishna with the white cow. For a moment we thought we were not in a police station, but soon the constable drew our attention and pressurized us to rush to buy stamp papers from a vendor nearby. The value of the fine was Rs.10 and we bargained with the Inspector since we were students. He agreed that a paper worth eight rupees and fifty paise would be enough! We had some small coins in our pockets which came in handy! We were asked to sign on that blank stamp paper which we did and then we left home with our bicycles after leaving our names and addresses on a sheet of paper for him to fill up his cases.

The newspaper write-up [read by opening the picture] featuring this unique police station appeared in the local edition of a leading daily brought memories of my only visit to that unique temple-station. The title of that write-up could be an answer to why we were not asked for bribes! Read that clip, the station has an interesting history.

Dog-walkers' dirty menace

While watering the plants in the early mornings, I see dog-walkers on a stroll. Some with special and weird breeds that speak of owner's wealth, more than the fancy of keeping pets and showing it off. As faithful as these watchdogs are, they learn what their owners teach. Perhaps the first thing they teach the young puppy as soon as they bring home is ‘toilet training’. Initially, the owners wont mind the puppy ‘doing it’ anywhere inside their homes, just like their own kids and wont mind cleaning up the mess. They begin teaching the puppy to ‘do’ outside their homes, as they begin to grow up. I understand they learn quickly not to mess up ‘inside’ their owner's premise, but I wonder how they get so nicely trained up to do only in front of others’ houses on the streets!! It is the beautiful pets from well-to-do owners that get this sort of training as their brat sons or servants are those who usually take them out for ‘walks’. I have had to argue with such dog-walkers when they happily watch their beloved pets defecating right in front of our gate! You know what they say? One told me to build a compound wall up to the road, the other tells that the area outside the gate is the property of the corporation and hence he has every right to do anything there! Another says that it was not his dog's shit, pointing to that one-day-old mess and another two-day-old one.... and his dog sniffing there again!

I always wonder why they wont train their pets to defecate in front of their own gates!

Sometimes stray dogs are better than those pampered pets. In an educated manner they choose spots where no one walks, very much unlike male humans who ease themselves at any wall, anywhere and in the presence of anybody around! At least the dogs do not know ‘shame’.

People express their anguish in newspaper columns about such things as levying fine to the offending owners, but then who will do the watchdog work to do that, 24x7? This is not America or Europe where people follow the rules laid down by the administration be it anything. (How one wishes such a sense prevailed here too!) A dog should not be taken out without a leash means they should not take without a leash, whether somebody watches to punish or not. Or, if they take a dog out and if it defecates in public, it is the owner’s responsibility to clear it immediately. Here the same things are ‘different’! The whole city is theirs when they go on regular “dog-walking” errands.

One Andy Rooney said in a famous quote: “The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.” The reason a dog has so many friends is that he wags his tail instead of his tongue, unlike his owner! And for no fault of mine, I have had to wag my tongue for the wonderful toilet training of somebody’s pet!

Mysore was a renown city for cleanliness. If minds of pet-owners were not spoilt to that level, I would have got a more responsible reply from those two 'gentle-youngmen'. Who knows, they might want to watch with a vengeance their pets repeating the act in the coming days, in the same place!

Tribute to Srinivasa Rao

In the last post I mentioned about a unique 'dosa eaters group' [will not detail here - the picture above is at Vidyarthi Bhavan, Bangalore - read My Masale Dose Blog ].

Mr.Kodagenahalli Bhimsena Rao Srinivasa Rao [his full name and in light blue shirt] was the senior most of that group of four. He has passed on on 10th March, 2008 after a brief illness, aged 79. He was my colleague in office for 8 years till he retired in 1990. Even thereafter, the link remained in tact esp. through the above group.

One of our other senior colleagues had asked him to 'take retirement' during a heated argument and Rao was not fully at fault. His famous retaliatory remark in the heat of the moment 'I will retire YOU from this world' has stayed on, but Nature gave Rao the retirement, 25 years later. He and his wit will be missed.

A simple man with great wit and and sense of humour, he would always keep sharing jokes. One special knack of his was to pull out an apt joke to suit the subject of conversation that was on. His astounding memory for facts too deserves accolades. He used to come to collect his pension in the bank in the campus and never missed joining us - our reputed group for coffee at the canteen [he choose that time - finding us together was assured!]. He would share his humour and then go about his business. He concealed his dire difficulties on the family front through his wit. Perhaps it made him lighter in the mind. Some people resort to drinking and smoking to "solve" the difficulties, but fortunately he probably resorted to humour. But he had a very short stint 'behind the fire'.

He was fond of remembering this incident:
He was into smoking for a short period many decades back. He wanted to quit that habit. So he went to a temple and vowed in front of God not to smoke in future and came out. Very soon after, he got an irresistible urge. So he smoked a cigarette again. He came back to the temple and withdrew his vow!! He had left smoking slowly thereafter!

The way he described the many jokes and anecdotes was unique. His specialty was repeating the same sentence as he went on, laced with uncontrollable laughter that rushed through his old teeth!

His love and enthusiasm for cricket even at that age was quite something. They never waned. He deeply followed esp. Indian cricket and knew things beyond the common cricket fan as he was a fine critic too - he was a player himself in his younger days, a good leg-spin googly bowler. He used to tell about how he stood behind the nets when the great Y.S.Ramaswamy was bowling in the nets. He was a great fan of E.A.S. Prasanna. He had seen many International stars from close quarters through his acquaintances at the Cricket Association by working as a volunteer for International/Test matches in Bangalore. He enjoyed like a child, doing that bit. On his return he would always share with me [another cricket-enthusiast] in detail about what went on. Even at his age of 74-75 he had gone to volunteer in a match and thereafter he found it difficult to travel alone, even though he was quite fit and healthy.

He had great fancy for buying lottery tickets! He sometimes used to win small prizes but he never took this gambling too far as to make his family suffer. He used to ask me to buy a few one-rupee tickets from the places in different states I visited for my cricket, annually. He got great thrill in checking the results in the papers when I handed them out to him on my return. Sometimes those tickets were lucky enough to get back the sum. Perhaps he bought them in the hope of alleviating the circumstances, only he knew. But Lady Luck stayed away, but handed him bigger-than-small amounts [part of which was again converted into new tickets!] on just a few occasions.

Cricket, the great game

Cricket is an idea. It was an idea of the gods, quoted Sir James Barrie.

Many people ask "What is Cricket?" You have two sides; one out in the field and one in. Each man that's in the side that's in goes out when he is out. He comes in and the next man goes in until he's out. When they are all out, the side that's out comes in. And the side that's been in goes out and tries to get those coming in out. Sometimes you get men still in and not out. When both sides have been in and out including the not outs. That's the end of the match. That is Cricket! Durban's Kingsmead Oval's Centenary Museum has that description (in italics, above) for the tourist who wants to know what Cricket is about.

It is also worthwhile to recall a letter written by Lord Harris in THE TIMES (2.2.1931): "…You do well to love it, for it is more free from anything sordid, anything dishonourable, than any game in the world. To play it keenly, honourably, generously, self-sacrificingly, is a moral lesson in itself, and the classroom is God's air and sunshine. Foster it, my brothers, so that it may attract all who can find the time to play it; protect it from anything that would sully it, so that it may be in favour with all men…."

The game is played with a hard leather ball with a willow bat. The 'klunk' produced when ball strikes bat is sheer pleasing melody. But it is a hard game played the hard way. Only the fit, talented, hard-working and courageous can survive long playing it. There is more to Cricket than just winning and losing.

Cricket is indisputably pre-eminent for its qualities as a means of entertainment, of character building and even as a way of life. It is a game synonymous with sportsmanship and chivalrous behaviour. Great cricketers are respected all over the world not only for their technical skills, but because they are gentlemen. The game does not encourage gamesmanship or underhand tactics. The laws of the game must be obeyed and there is a strict code of personal behaviour which is intended to cover all situations not governed by precise laws. No player can ever be greater than the game itself.

Cricket is a storehouse of pleasures and rewards. The rewards of physical and mental health, personal satisfaction, life-long friendships and other less tangible things stand out. It is a game which always upholds ethics and etiquette. Cricket is renown for its 'glorious uncertainties'. The game can be very absorbing and exciting. Sometimes, soporific and dull. The progress and outcome of a match is dependant on unpredictable factors like weather, ground conditions, personality, mental poise, varying individual skills and opponent's strengths. Their combination in varying degrees is what makes the game so thrilling and keeps the suspense element till the end. They say that 'the game is not over till the last ball is bowled'. Watching the game is a sight to behold esp. when the great players are in action. The connoisseurs have always liked the Test Matches. This is where all of Cricket's nuances are in full bloom.

Numerous bizzare incidents happen in this game. Here is just one: Harold Charlwood, playing at the Oval, gave a dolly catch in the deep and was dropped. He had already taken two runs and was run out when on his third. Meanwhile the second run had been signaled 'one short'. He went down in the score-book as "dropped, made one run, ran one short and was run out. All in one hit!"

Humour in Cricket has always been amusing and unique. Cricket's own jargon adds much beauty to it and can drive a lay person crazy, like this one: During the last Ashes Test at the Oval some decades ago, Norman Yardley, the England Captain received a letter from an old woman like this : " I have no interest in cricket and I do not care who wins. But the other day, quite by accident, I listened for a few minutes to a Test Match Commentator. He said that someone or something called Lindwall bowling. It sounded purely a name to me, but when he proceeded to say this bowler had two long legs and one short fine leg, I was shocked. Tell me Mr.Yardley, what kind of creatures are these Australian cricketers? No wonder our Englishmen can't win". Sans humour, Cricket would have become quite monotonous.

There have been many great people who have thoroughly excelled. Some have even been knighted in honour of their yeomen efforts. Such a personality could be easily located by anyone. Once an Australian fan of Sir Don Bradman mailed a letter when Australia were touring England. He addressed his envelope "Mr.D.G.Bradman, Somewhere playing in England". It reached the man!

There have been many great acts of sportsmanship on the field. At Leeds in 1909, Jack Hobbs hit a ball to the mid-wicket boundary and while doing so, had dislodged a bail with his right foot. An appeal was made but neither of the two umpires had seen it and so favoured the batsman. Hobbs knew this. So, two balls later, he withdrew his bat away to a straight ball and allowed himself to be bowled.

Cricket can bring great fame and fortune but the joy it gives to the player and the beholder is immeasurable. It is probably the profoundest of all games. Perhaps this is why there are so many who are playing and following it. It is a great team-game that encourages honesty and provides a 'family atmosphere'. It prepares us to face situations positively with humility and enjoy the process more than its outcome. Victory is no doubt sweet, but it teaches you to accept a defeat gracefully.

Playing Cricket is a wonderful feeling (in its true spirits). Those who have experienced are the fortunate ones for, it is a complete game which has everything in it. It makes the man. Playing the game demands top physical fitness and athleticism. The body will not obey the mind if one is not fit. The proverb "a healthy mind in a healthy body" holds a lot of water esp. in Cricket. A 'cricketer' is a more worthy name for one who works on his fitness, who is a 'team-man', a gentleman, skillful to the extent of adapting it according to the situations in a match and usually an amateur (An amateur is one who engages himself more as a pastime rather than a profession. The word amateur is often misunderstood and freely used wrongly to mean 'immature'!!). Those who fall short with these qualities are all mere 'cricket-players'. I reckon this is the subtle difference between them.

George Bernard Shaw (perhaps the greatest of cricket ignoramuses) had quoted: "A game played by eleven fools and watched by eleven thousand fools". Not for nothing Cricket is the most popular game. And he was the one who was once informed that Australia and England were playing "Tests" to which he had reverted "What have they been testing?".
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[The most recent "Sydney Show" was after all, not cricket and just like what Bill Woodful the Australian captain had quoted '....but just one side out there is playing cricket'. His quote suits here too. The less said the better, because this is about cricket!]

MYSOREAN MEMORIES

Now I begin this blog separately here and link the one I posted much earlier, to avoid duplication.

I have added recent pictures in this album
Glimpses of Mysore

Good that DD is away from Cricket Coverage

Watching live cricket on TV from Australia is such a pleasure, both to the serious cricket-knowing viewer and the casual cricket follower alike. As expected the TV coverage is excellent, English commentary team is expert and grounds are beautifully laid out – almost flawless. I’m sure even the Hindi-dependent viewers too enjoy the coverage without a murmer! Hindi, because this is what we are fed with and we get fed up with, usually. Not this time! Thanks to our beloved Doordarshan, who could not win the rights. You know what is DD style? Commentators sit and watch the TV [they see what we see] in the DD studio with a mike on and commentate with alternate Hindi and English for us, switching off the original commentary in English. No one knows what is happening when there is no cricket action on the field – for example, between over change, during even a small stoppage for valid reason. The viewer is disconnected – including our commentators! Instead, we are shown commercials. Score cards are not shown. If anything happens in the last ball of an over, viewers are deprived of it. The reflex of the switching person is swifter than that of a slip-catcher! He does not waste a milli-second to show the commercials and thus earn fast bucks. He is instructed to show action, only when the bowler runs in and bowls! As soon as a defensive shot is played, the commercial is on even before the ball has reached the fieldsman’s hands! Many times, he would miss a no-ball or a wide off a 6^th ball and switch to commercials immediately. I have always wondered why they do not show live action at least as an ‘inset’ in the screen during those breaks. Instead, they are interrupting even during an over, showing them on two sides. It is switched over irrespective of what commentators are talking about and that too mid-way.

When DD does not win the deal, viewers are happy. Look now, how beautiful it is to watch live action from Australlia. Not much commercials to interrupt the flow of action and coverage. Wickets in Australia also provide good cricket. Lush green carpet-like outfields make the ball smoothly pass as if on a billiard table, which is such a joy to look at. Fortunately, DD is not here to annoy this time. Listening to description and commentary from the team is an education in itself, aside from watching beautifully covered live action.