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.

My fancy for bells

When I was young, I had visited Jagan Mohan Palace Museum and had seen an old bell which the person looking after the items had shown it by striking it with a wooden dowel and when he passed the dowel along its edge, the sound seemed to increase into a nice hum! It was very impressive. Only later I came to know that this a Tibetan Om Bell, that produced the sound of "Om". On my next visit there many years later, I found many such articles not in display!

Around 1974, I had seen in someone's house a wind chime with some hollow tubes and a striking piece of metal. It made a pleasant sound whenever a slight breeze blew. I was fascinated when I saw this and my technical mind immediately decided that was a "must do". I found a couple of little cymbals that we had bought in Gokarna during our trip in 1969, just for the heck of it because none of us used them in our worship rooms or did Bhajans using them. It was lying here and there and so this became raw materials for my wind chime. For the striking metal, I found a brass ring which was from a light bulb holder. I tied them suitably and then for the wind to disturb it, I found the circular tin seal from a beverage can most suitable as it was very light. It worked beautifully much to my delight. I had hung this up in the verandah where a nice breeze wafted across. This contraption caught the attention of visitors and friends and I'd proudly say "I did it!" much to their astonishment. Notice the new improved version of it as it is today in this video clip! I used a light balsa wood in place of the tin foil.

Sit back and relax for two and a half minutes and listen. Some clips are poor due to poor lighting. Please bear with them.

I was also greatly fascinated by Mysore's own Dodda Gadiyaara - The Silver Jubilee Clock Tower built to celebrate 25 years of reign of H.H.Krishnaraja Wadiyar IV, in 1927. The 92 ft. tall Tower was topped by the 920 kg French Bell. It was a great landmark that also told time in days when few people owned watches and clocks and the hourly and half hourly strikes of the huge bell could be heard miles away in those silent days, including our home a only a couple of miles away. Early in the morning, before the birds woke up, we could hear it even more clearly and loudly as if it was just a couple of furlongs away. In 1995, Mysore's Big Ben went into the 'silent mode' - the chiming was stopped as they noticed some cracks in the tower which the experts believed was due to the vibrations from that heavy bell.

Engelberg's Kloster Monastery (Switzerland) bell actually brought back memories of old Mysore as it resonated in the calm surroundings.

Kloster Monastery, Engelberg, Switzerland

I wrote an essay for Radio Korea (I was a monitor for this station for 16 years) in 1981 and my entry had won a prize. As a gift they sent me a replica of Korea's Largest Bell. Pictured below is the gift.

In the 60s and 70s in the opposite house, a renown dancer Nandini Eswer used to practice dancing with the ankle bells on. The neighbourhood felt no nuisance at all from the rhythmic sounds produced by tens of them, during her sessions! She has grown in stature since!

There was an old bronze cup in the heirloom, kept unused for many decades. On striking it, a lovely vibration resulted. So I thought why not I make a bell? So, drilled a hole and fixed a broken piece of brass as a clapper. Lo, the bell was ready! There was a broken leg of some 100-year old low desk. I used it for the handle of this bell! Trash to treasure! One of my favourite works! It will be in the worship room.

You would have heard how resonant it is in the video clip above!

I made another similar to the above, from another bronze cup. I have used this on the first floor to call attention to those there from the ground floor. A string has to be pulled to make the bell shake. This is the one:

A faulty bicycle bell's gong has now become a sound indicator at the front door. I have fixed it in such a way that it 'tings' whenever the door is opened or closed!

My bicycle bell of course was kept shining lest the dust and rust alter its resonance! But the mechanism inside it would give way! We used the bell frequently whenever even a dog or cat came in the way because people would never budge. When none was around - those were good days when density of population was less - on the road we used to press the bell lever and make music out of it because that sound was never boring!

Our family priest each morning used to do the daily rituals (pooja) in the worship room and when he finished and did the 'aarati', the sound from the hand bell sometimes woke me up on 'my' late mornings. For special occasions, there was a bigger bell that had a great sound that spread to the neighbourhood.

We had an old doorbell that had a gong. At times when we were in other thoughts, when someone pressed it, we used to get startled by the sudden 'tring'. When the coil burnt off we switched to a buzzer which was even better at startling us esp. during an afternoon siesta. The bell with a coil had been off the market shelves. Our college had a similar coil bell to announce the break of each session when teachers used to change, but it was bigger in size. How we loved this bell! It signaled the end of a class, but forgot a new one also would start. But our high school had an old bronze bell with a wooden handle which the peon Jogi used to shake it according to his schedule. The best sound from the same bell came in the evenings -or so it seemed (naturally!).

I get tempted during visits to the market whenever I see a wind chime when the family shops something else. This temptation has resulted in adding three chimes being purchased at different times. I've hung them where the breeze is more and where I pass often so that I can disturb it and make a sound too.

My friend Susan is realizes that "..wind chimes are purlely God's music; after all, He causes the wind to blow."

Another Feng Shui Bell... This is hung in a passage so that my head touches it while passing and makes a sound - it has become a habit!

I mentioned about the Swiss Church Bell. One must see and listen to believe the melodious sounds produced by the Cow Bells tied to Cows in Switzerland. Most have the famous Swiss Cow Bells tied around their necks. When they graze together in their alloted piece of land, it is just music to the ears in that silent country! It's absolute thrill. Just listen to this melody:

This link is even better! More cows, more melody - clear sound!

This is a Souvenir Bell I got from that Switzerland.

Closer view of the Cow design.

There was a bronze gong (flat plate) lying unused in our worship room. These are the ones the Dasaiahs in Mysore use as part of their traditional attire and equipment when they go for alms. I thought of adding another variety to our doorbell by tying it up. When a thread is pulled, a broken brake lever from a scooter acts as the striking rod.

It was a powerful bell! The boss in the office would press it once - ting - and lo, the peon would stand in front of him. This was probably the scene in the 50s and 60s, but it is now powerless, but saved nevertheless!

Buses had bells used by conductors to indicate to the driver to stop or start when passengers alighted or boarded. He used to pull the string that ran across the ceiling of the bus to the back when he was in the rear half of the bus to indicate. I used this technique for my back yard bell, again using another old bronze cup. The string has outside access through a hole in the doorframe.

Our vintage Ansonia clock had an ordinary bell. I had seen another Ansonia with different type of gongs that was very pleasing. Through an old clock-dealer some years laterI found a similar one and fulfilled the dream recently and fitted it to mine! Such is my liking to the pleasant sounds from bells! You would have seen towards the end of that video.

Read this response from Swami Chinmayananda to the common question we all raise:

Why do we ring the bell in a temple?

Is it to wake up the Lord? But the Lord never sleeps. Is it to let the Lord know we have come? He does not need to be told, as He is all knowing. Is it a form of seeking permission to enter His precinct? It is a homecoming and therefore entry needs no permission. The Lord welcomes us at all times. Then why do we ring the bell?

The ringing of the bell produces what is regarded as an auspicious sound. It produces the sound Om, the universal name of the Lord. There should be auspiciousness within and without, to gain the vision of the Lord who is all-auspiciousness.

Even while doing the ritualistic aarati, we ring the bell. It is sometimes accompanied by the auspicious sounds of the conch and other musical instruments. An added significance of ringing the bell, conch and other instruments is that they help drowned any inauspicious or irrelevant noises and comments that might disturb or distract the worshipers in their devotional ardour, concentration and inner peace.

As we start the daily ritualistic worship (pooja) we ring the bell, chanting:

Aagamaarthamtu devaanaam

gamanaarthamtu rakshasaam

Kurve ghantaaravam tatra

devataahvaahna lakshanam

I ring this bell indicating

the invocation of divinity,

So that virtuous and noble forces

enter (my home and heart);

and the demonic and evil forces

from within and without, depart.

So some such vibrations are needed in our surroundings. It also pleases the ears.

But the one sound I always dreaded was the alarm clock bell that went off at the most (un)desired time!

Just for curiosity, here is the

World's Largest Bell

My stint at poetic composition!

"Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility." This is a famous quote by William Wordsworth which my elderly colleague used to recollect his college teacher mentioning it.

I do not remember much from my school poems, except for "Humpty, Dumpty sat on a wall....", which we 'by-hearted' and tried to reproduce in front of the teacher or in exams. That ended the exercise. They were all soon forgotten. Learning poems was a most avoidable exercise! But somehow rhyming words have always fascinated me. Among our group of friends there was one (late) Vasu - older than all of us - who was fond of making fun of others and he usually had some funny rhyming two-liners. His friends used to tease him "Lo Vasu, kodu ondu kaasu". (Hey Vasu, give me a penny), etc. I never understood properly the poem we were taught in school or college. "Daffodils" by Wordsworth was one among them. Such was my ignorance that I could not even perceive that a daffodil was a flower! The worst part was to write the explanation of a stanza in the exams!

Dinakar Desai was a renown Kannada Poet whose 4-line limericks were very popular. In fact, people used to call me his full name (being the namesake) - HE was that famous. While representing Mysore Zone in cricket my name was written as "Dinakar Desai" by some fellow. When the scorers gave the match report to the Press, they had given my name as "Dinakar Desai" which came in print (Kannada - Prajavani) the following morning (I still preserve it!). I had taken two wicktes.

I also used to read with some interest short rhyming poems in magazines some readers contributed. I was not interested in a story-like poem with emotions and no rhymes. I by-passed such ones. I wanted to try rhymes just for fun. Also, poems composed with a certain name and its spelling as its subject also interested me - each letter would be the beginning of a line and rhyming was not a must in this case. When S.Venkataraghavan was chosen to lead Indian Cricket team in the 1979 World Cup, I thought of scratching my head and try something on his long name. I went with a draft to my good friend Rajgopal for help. At a young age, he was already a prolific writer with a good vocabulary (he is now renown as a 'walking vocabularist'!) . He re-wrote the entire thing and I did not understand some of the words! I wanted to get it published in a sports magazine. I was yearning to see my name in print which was a fancy and such a thrill. Rajgopal had many already and he encouraged me to put my name though he wrote it in fact!

I sent this to 'Sportsworld' and was disappointed not to see in print. Click on the picture below to read.



After some years, I wrote another short one, myself. It was very spontaneous and I enjoyed it. It was published in Sportstar and I was so thrilled to see it!



Ravi Shastri was earning a name for his slow batting in the early 90s. So I thought of a few lines to express some anger as below and sent it to local papers and was happy to see it being honoured!

This one also gave me some satisfaction as I started writing it and got some help from my learned colleague Nagaraja. I gave it to Mrs. Nandini (the subject) and earned some appreciation. Click on the image to read.

Look at this photograph below:

When the film roll was developed and the prints arrived, I was puzzled to see a blurred picture that I had shot of my daughter. My pen went off spontaneously with these lines:

No, no, the earth wasn't quaking,
While my camera was clicking.

These things happen once in a way,
On any unknown night or day.

The camera is of Russian make,
But this photographer is no fake!

~~~~~~

There was another colleague with whom we had a close association, a much respected person by one and all. His name was Lakshmi Venkatesh [very very fond of tea, hence the title]. I attempted another rhyming poem and it came off well, while it reflected all his qualities. It was presented to him when he retired from service. It was he who told that Wordsworth quote above. Here is what I composed trying to encapsulate his personality - He was a tea-lover and a Maths teacher - hence that title:

SUM OF LAKSHMI VENKA'TEA'SH

Superannuate Lakshmi Venkatesh will, end September,

Miss badly our department will, one real noble member.

Prior to his CFTRI stint, he was a good teacher in a school,

He had enjoyed every bit, when that piece of chalk was his tool.

He's fond of teaching Mathematics even without a board,

His students learning the subject, never get bored.

The art of teaching is surely in his genes,

Never did he wear even the best of jeans.

He right-stepped into the Institute in the mid-sixties,

And sipped off thousands of cups of coffees and teas.

Outwardly, he is a simple-dressed scientist,

Inwardly, he is by no means an atheist.

One of his noteworthy works was on rice bran,

But after awards or rewards he never ran.

Surprised and happy he was when a patent was awarded,

With tea, we, his colleagues were simply rewarded.

The walnut project took him up north to Srinagar,

That was when he was fit, energetic and younger.

Later when his backache took its toll,

He was no longer on the touring roll.

Our beloved Venkatesh was Sponsored Projects' "Lakshmi",

But from now on, our Ramesh may say, "that's me".

To many an election here, he was the Returning Officer,

None knew how he could reject hot tea in a cup and saucer.

He never did bend upon using the computer's keyboard,

But with his pen, gripped unusually, he wrote many a word.

When it came to Income Tax, he was our helpful adviser,

With 'Lakshmi' around, people got much more wiser.

Seriousness aside, he was all wit and wisdom,

People around him were never led to boredom.

His sincerity and industriousness deserve accolades,

His rough beard has blunted hundreds of blades.

He earned a reputation for honesty, kindness and generosity,

To emulate him, we need not require pugnacity.

With that twinkle in his eye and the depth in his voice,

He always hated making unnecessary noise.

His memory for quoting anecdotes is breath-taking,

The way he narrates them is awe-inspiring.

He is a man who believes in 'thought, word and deed',

For those who are in need, he is a real friend indeed.

He very often lost control over mind over A matter,

When THIS matter was a cup of tea served on a platter.

Our Venkatesh follows a strict regimen of diet as a rule,

But rejects his cup of tea only when it had become cool.

He used to share his vast ken of Epics and Upanishads with us,

None can doubt that he is deeply spiritual and religious.

The great aura of his personality commands respect,

From him in reciprocation the same thing one is to expect.

To fellow humans Lakshmi Venka-TEA-sh is full of compassion,

Yet again, sipping tea is his preferred and irrepressible passion.

His frequent "hello"s and "namaskaara"s, we will miss,

Associating with him on any matter has been pure bliss.

Let him teach, full time, Algebra, Calculus or whatever,

May health and happiness be with him and family forever.

Presented by Colleagues, 2002

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I enjoyed composing this one in Kannada [two pages]. There was a popular colleague that served the Institution for 41 years and personally I had the good fortune of being in the same department for 18 years. This composition ["Nammukunda" meaning "Our Mukunda"] brings out most of his personality. It was read out in the farewell gathering by another colleague on the day he retired from service. The same was presented to him. It was August 2000. This is a caricature I tried.

Click on the images to read.

Page 2

~~~~~~~~

This one too gave much delight to me as well as our colleagues as the subject was our

head of the dept. On the eve of his superannuation, it was presented to him.

THE PILLAI WE KNEW

Our Sri Pillai lays down office at the end of March,

To Prabhu he will pass on the torch.

As spearhead of the Department,

He brought laurels for Institute's betterment.

His great virtue has been the art of conversation,

Which fully deserves our appreciation.

When there was no question of an agreement,

He outwitted the other in the argument.

His forte was his courage and wisdom in decision making,

The speed with which he did so was truly amazing.

Working with him had been mostly a pleasure,

The rest of the time it was pure pressure.

With the pen he was ever ready to sign,

Many a time, he had to 'draw a line'.

The bell switch will no longer feel his fretful finger,

But those typical "ting-ting ting-tings" will always linger.

The engaged telephone at the other end drew him nuts,

And his own, suffered from bruises and cuts.

When situations made us feel his presence,

We wished for his temporary absence.

Up until the time he crossed well over fifty,

He was the Chairman of Doorvas Committee.

Saviour faire had become one of his top attributes,

Also to all his other good ones, we pay tributes.

What we all usually saw was Pillai the taskmonger,

But the real Pillai happens to be a humdinger.

Le'im settle at Cochin, Calicut or wherever,

Let health and happiness be with him and family forever.

"Colleagues"29th March, 2001

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WHAT THEY DEAL

Learn while you Rhyme!

[Composed, 2004]

History deals with chaps,

Geography, with maps.

Botany deals with plants,

Architecture, with plans.

Literature deals with books,

Fashion, with looks.

Doctors deal with health,

Scavengers, with filth.

Geology deals with rocks,

Paediatrics, with tots.

Photography deals with picture,

Carpentry, with furniture.

Palmistry deals with palms,

Beggars depend on alms.

Hotels engage cooks,

Police hunt for crooks.

Aeronautics deal with planes,

Cartooning, with lines.

Philately deals with stamps,

Lalloo pokes in scams.

Barber deals with hairs,

Stock market, with shares.

Zoology deals with animals,

Law punishes criminals.

Postmen deliver mails,

Manicurist tends finger-nails.

Biology deals with life,

Dacoit wields the knife.

Astronomy deals with stars,

Mechanics repair cars.

Psychiatry deals with the mind,

We should learn to be kind.

~~~~~~~~