Mylar Rao's Kashi Yatra a century ago

Benares or Varanasi or Kashi, [Wiki link] is about 2000 kms. from Mysore.   According to legend, it was founded by Lord Shiva himself and hence considered as the holiest city for esp. Hindus.  History records evidence of this place being inhabited from as early as 12th century B.C.  It is among the oldest, continuously inhabited cities of the world, on the banks of the Holy River Ganges [Ganga].  In 1897, Mark Twain, the renowned Indophile, said of Varanasi, "Benares is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together."  It remains a unique city for myriad reasons.

One Anuradha Sankar  has a well presented blog [found on the web] which she aptly titled as 'Kashi Yatra' [Tour of Kashi] http://kashiyatra.blogspot.in/p/about-me.html  [read her profile there! And do not forget to return to my blog!]  Brief information and photos of the author's trip of the places of importance in that region is useful.  This avoids my repeating them here.

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Let me begin now.  A pilgrimage tour to Benares/Kashi/Varanasi [names of same place] was undertaken by my great grandfather Mylar Rao 'long ago'. This, I had overheard my grandmother mentioning when I was very young in the 1970s and this place appeared very far away when I saw in the school atlas map.

I have preserved many diaries of Mylar Rao which are more than a century old. Recently, one among them of 1912 had me thrilled.  I saw some account entries instead of his daily jottings which he habitually recorded. Instantly, I correlated it with my grandmother's mention 40 years ago - the trip to Kashi, because I could find familiar place names, which to my great delight were actually of that very Benares trip, precisely in 1911-12.  It was also in 1911 that he had started to construct the house from where this post comes from, a hundred years later. Around the turn of the 19th century itself, many cities in our vast country had railway connectivity and reaching Kashi had become a thinkable proposition, unlike older times when people had to walk all the way.

 This is the diary, which Mylar Rao, the ever meticulous took on that tour.  Click on images [to enlargify] and read the entries - some are curious. 

Today, we do advance bookings sitting at home and many long distance trains are available to take people to all parts of the vast country! Long distance pilgrimage tours were really adventures in the bygone era for many reasons.

It appears that tickets were bought just before they boarded Mysore and did the same at every place on the route.  Mysore-Arsikere-Miraj-Pune-Nasik-Itarsi-Allahabad-Varanasi-Gaya-Calcutta-Berhampore-Madras. 'Hopping' was the only option in the absence of long distance trains. They would have waited at each halt many hours to board their onward train

He had collected some addresses of contact persons in some places before the party left, probably for any help for accommodation in a choultry.

First let me list in brief, the dates and places from the account diary.

His account and journey starts on 23.12.1911, with a purchase of 14 tickets.  

Fourteen people in the pilgrimage party!  There are some names mentioned in the diary. Mrs. Rangiengar, Venkapathiah, B.N., Swamy,Somayaji, Rangappa, 

24th they were in Harihara [near Davangere].

25th - Harihara to Belgaum.

26th - Belgaum to Poona [Pune]

27th - Sight seeing in Poona.

28th - Journey to Nasik.

An entry "Pilgrim tax" Four annas each = Four rupees was paid!  There are many interesting entries! 

29th-30th - Nasik is another place on the banks of River Godavari, where rituals are performed for the propitiation of souls of forefathers. 

31.12.1911 they are in Itarsi, go to Narbada river by 5 tongas.

2.1.1912 - Rituals at Prayag [Allahabad is its new name].

There is an address - Jagannath Sastri at Allahabad... did they stay there?

5.1.12 - Still in Allahabad.  15 tickets to Benares. Who came in extra?

They are in Banares for a few days.

9.1.1912 - Boat to Vyasa Kasi [Vishwanatha Temple?].

Solder-sealing of the holy water in little copper vessels [Gange Thali] from Ganga River was done - may be one such thali is still in our worship room. "Holy Ganga water" does not spoil when kept sealed and the seal is opened to put a small quantity of it into the mouth of someone in the family who is very close to take the last breath. That way, it is believed that the person will attain moksha [salvation].

This picture [probably framed later] is said to have been bought at Benares during that trip.  It was in the worship room.

11.1.12 - Benares to Gaya. Gaya also rituals done.

11.1.12 - Gaya to Calcutta.  14 tickets for Rupees Forty six! [Where did they stay? There is an address B.V.Ramaiah at Chander Lane, some Mysorean in Calcutta?].

12.1.12 - Reached Calcutta, roamed in Tramcar, buys Badam Halwa.  May have visited Kali Temple also.  Mahatma Gandhi visited it in 1901 after he returned from South Africa. 

13.1.12 - Left Calcutta for Samalkot. Fruits were bought [3 rupees] and a toy for child [6 annas].  Two rupees was paid to the Ticket Collector to reserve the Compartment for the group!  That goes to show how busy Calcutta was even in those days.

14.1.12 - Provisions were bought at Berhampore.  

No hotels in those days. Telegrams were sent to home from the places they had gone. There are frequent entries 'Telegram" so that kept the people back home informed of their safety. 

Carts and carriages were hired to transport the luggage and people to and from railway stations. 

15.1.12 - Berhampore to Madras [Chennai].

16.1.12 - Reached and stayed at Madras.  Bought provisions again.

17.1.12 - Madras to Bangalore.

They would have relaxed and returned to their homes in Mysore at convenient days.

In his main Account Book at home, he records the total.  See.  Less than thousand rupees [for 14 people!].

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Using Google Maps I tried to chart their round journey from Point A [Mysore] to Point H [Bangalore].  It was roughly 5000 kilometres. The tour stretched 24 days.

Points A to H - Mysore-Nasik-Itarsi-Allahabad-Varanasi-Gaya-Calcutta-Bangalore.

Railways had only coal-fired steam engines in those days.  Travelers had to carry their own beds and food.  There were no hotels or vendors.  They carried water in brass vessels collecting it at every station the train stopped.  They bought provisions wherever they halted for the day and cooked food [what about firewood]. So they would have carried suitable vessels, leaves [instead of plates] to eat.  Holdall bags were necessary.  I am sure steel trunks were also carried to take clothes etc.  So imagine the luggage bulk and weight belonging to 14 people for a long tour!  No wonder there are frequent entries for coolie, carriage, carts, luggage removing, provisions, telegrams, etc.

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Let me show some pictures, also of the time when the party toured.  Picture postcard collecting was a hobby with one of my great grand uncles [1900-1915].  I found some scenes showing Benares.

This is how it was when they went to Nasik.  The postcard is from the same period.

I found three pictures of Benares in "Glimpses of India", published in 1895, by J.H.Fairneux, one of my favourite books.

 My father and grandfather were not able to visit in their lifetimes. I was able to visit it twice, so far. First visit was in November1993.  Picture taken at Mysore Ghat, built [in the late 1920s] by and during the reign of Krishnaraja Wadiyar IV, the ruler of Mysore who also had visited there on his way to Kailas-Manasarovar in 1931.

Picture below taken at Mysore Ghat on my second visit with our cricket team, October 2000.  They recently renamed it as Karnataka Ghat - see this image - web link: [Click]  Instead of Gange Thalis, I brought the river water in plastic bottles.

Just in case we would not be able to make the trip to Benares in our lifetimes, we are symbolically 'sent' in the form of a ritual 'Kashi Yatra' in Hindu weddings.  For a higher spiritual purpose the groom is given a 'final opportunity to leave before the bride enters'. He is asked if he would like to abandon worldly life and lead the life of an ascetic. The father of the bride requests the groom not to leave, but to stay and marry his daughter. This is taken from Devasthanam.

Both my grandfather and father could not make it in real life. This is a picture of my father "doing the Kashi Yatra" on his wedding day, 1956. 

Decades later, it was my turn a few years before opportunity to tour presented itself.

'Kashi Yatre' means an arduous adventure.  Kannada writer Triveni wrote a novel titled 'Kashi Yatre'.  T.P.Kailasam jokes in one of his satirical works "to go in an iron boat to bring river Ganga in a mosquito net".

Visiting Kashi, bathing in River Ganga and performing rituals on its banks, for the propitiation of departed souls in the family esp. the forefathers at least once in the lifetime is a dream and wish of devout Hindus.  There have been many instances in ancient times when people had to walk the entire route to fulfill the wish/vow/dream and never returned home, esp. from the south.  It is also believed that when a person dies in those places, the soul is liberated. Those who returned home safe were held in high esteem. 'That person has returned from Kashi.'!  

Not so in present times, as access to places is much easier.  Even then, only luck plays its part to allow or prevent a person from visiting!!  That is the mystery of the place!  

A scooter accident - lucky escape

I was on my way back from a short errand to.the market, on my scooter.  My way from the usually busy market traffic was unusually smooth.  A strange hunch was haunting me at the back of the mind ever since I started.  It was just about one O'Clock, our lunchtime and I was just a furlong away from home.

I had entered Vani Vilas [Double] Road after safely overtaking the two slowing buses which were about to stop at the shelter.  The road was free with no traffic ahead.  I was cruising at a steady 30-35 kph at the most and not rushing.

There was absolutely no traffic, both ahead and behind me, except my scooter.  It is a common occurrence here for people to be crossing road dividers.  At some distance a man was crossing the 18-inch high road divider [Vani Vilas Road].  He was on  my side of the road. There was a gap of about 4-5 feet between me and the road divider which was to my right.   The man was crossing slowly and not looking at the traffic at all.  So I timed my speed many feet in advance, in full control so that he would be safely across when I would pass 6-7 feet behind his back. Not so!!

The man who had passed my line of movement suddenly took a 'U' turn, still not looking at the road. He seemed to be in his own thoughts.   He was now almost in my path.  "Thud"!!  I had shouted in panic "Yaaaaaay" which is quicker than using the thumb to honk in an attempt get his attention.  Braking distance became too short and so was reaction time.  There was no time to change my direction in order to avoid the hit. Left handle of my scooter hit him. I was thrown off the scooter on impact.  See diagram.

I fell on the road, luckily not hitting the road divider.  My right palm landed on the road and my scooter had no rider. I saw stars as in comic books as I turned and lay on my back instantly to gather myself from shock.  I could feel I was generally fine, but my palm near the wrist was numb and there was bleeding from two cuts.  I stood up to evaluate the scenario.  Instantly, as if from nowhere, some people had gathered.  Luckily as there was no traffic at all we were not run over.  Someone had lifted and parked my scooter beside the kerb.

A couple of people helped the shocked old man to the side and made him sit.  My purse along with some hooks I had bought were safe in my shoulder bag which I had put across the chest.  My watch, helmet and glasses were in place too!  I cannot recall when I transferred the camera from the shirt pocket to my shoulder bag after I fell and got up.   It was safe too.  The new walking stick I had bought for mother had suffered a dent and some scratches.  Scooter's front mudguard suffered a twist on impact with the road as it fell.

Having confirmed that the old man was safe, with only a scraped knee and having evaluated my own injury as minimal, I tried to escape the scene as some nasty people who seemed to be looking to raise an issue, as is their wont, stopped me. "What about him, you run away?" said one and snatched the ignition key.

It is always the 'fault' of the the bigger vehicle whatever it is.  So a pedestrian is always 'not at fault'!   So the gathered group, some of whom might have seen whose fault it was, started to target me.  From shock, the mouth was dry and I was surrounded by people who wait for creating scenes in scenes!

I convinced the nasty group that I will not take him to hospital but would personally attend to his injury at my home.  The man too agreed.  I did the first aid to him while I put quick doses of  homeo remedies into his mouth.  I too took them. I sent him away after compensating for 'his fault' with two hundred rupees which he asked.  He felt okay and was satisfied with the attention and the 'monetary reward' he won.  He was a poor villager heading for a hospital with a carry bag containing some reports, prescriptions, bills etc.

Now it was time to attend to my own injuries.  A contusion near the left shoulder blade - I do not know how, those two scrapes on the wrist, a scrape on the elbow.  My scooter had slowed down considerably after I braked on reflex, hence it was only a "low thud".  And luckily my head did not hit the road divider. I had landed about 3 feet away from it.  I felt lucky it was only that much, for both. So that was what the hunching was all about.  I realize whatever should happen happens.  How do we answer to the subtle hunch-warning?  Are we capable? 

Film Projection Fun

In movie theatres I used to get kicks watching the tiny dust particles wafting in the air, dancing in the beam of light coming out of the projector lens. They would otherwise remain invisible!  I used to do the same when my father operated the film projector at his workplace with the 16mm RCA.  He was the projection operator and sound engineer.  My father was an expert, having been one of the earliest students of Bangalore's Visvesvaraya Polytechnic College where he got his diploma in 1949-50.  From 1951-58 he worked with distinction in the reputed Films Divisions at Bombay [now Mumbai]. 

Picture on the left shows my father operating a slide projector for an official programme in the early 1960s at his workplace in Mysore.  He would take me to unofficial programmes and film shows organized by various in-house groups off office hours.  I would sit next to the projector because I was also drawn to watching how the two film spools revolved, one dispensing and the other collecting after passing through a series of slots. 

In this picture [left] he is examining a 35mm film with some colleague.

Now let me come to my adventure.

It was about 1970-71.  I had just entered high school when information about toy film projectors being locally available had spread.   I longed to have one.  Its cost was twenty five rupees, certainly expensive for a toy at that time. My school fee was six rupees a month.  I think it was my father [and not my grandfather on that occasion!] who gave the money for me to buy, reluctantly.  Reluctantly, because he was aware of my 'experimenting habits', with new things and 25 was a big sum!!




The projector was something like this, but was 'silver painted':

With a huge sum of 25 rupees in my small shirt pocket, off I rode 'my' Robin Hood bicycle to the shop, just one kilometre from our house.  A rack full of these projectors was a visual delight to me!  "I want one projector."  After testing the mechanics he handed it over to me.  I paid the money.  My new wooden gadget was carefully fastened by the carrier clip behind the saddle.  Riding cautiously, feeling the toy with my hand several times if it was securely in place, I reached home.



The shop where I bought has since long been a cement shop [Narayana Shastri Road], close to where I live now.  Photo taken just for this post - see the green painted one [right].

After some days of trial, I was ready to arrange a 'public show'!!  The news of my new toy had spread in the street.  I would announce to my playmates about 'Dinu's film show' after the evening playtime so that they would inform their whereabouts to their parents beforehand.  

Our hall was the audioless 'home theatre'.  A white wall was the projection screen.  I had to connect the projector close to the power source as I had no extra wire.  The wall behind the two chairs [picture below] was the best, but sometimes I chose the wall where the rosewood trophy case is. 

Theatres used to dispose the cut film pieces [35 mm] in considerable lengths and these were available cheaply.  Someone would pick them up from the waste bin or had some contacts with the manager.  But I am unable to remember where I procured mine except for a thick roll which my aunt got from Bangalore following somebody's suggestion.The roll I am showing here is the combined one having all I had.

The 'Dinu Film Show' was arranged a few times, after dusk and would last only a few minutes!  The film got unwound fast!  So fast that there was no time for me to notice any wafting dust in the beam of light in the 'home theatre'!

The 60 watt bulb [projection lamp] would soon heat up the entire wooden projector.  The smell of silver paint on its body would fill the room. It was time for a short cooling break!  Another roll of film was loaded for another small session.  Loading had to be done manually too, after switching the light on!

The projector had focusing arrangement which was a very effective mechanism made from tin sheets! Two were condensing lenses and the third one - outermost - was for focusing. Once 'loaded', the film had to be kept in motion because of chances of getting burnt by the hot light and the lens converging heat to the film, if kept stationary!

When all the film rolls were shown, the light was on for the final time.  The street mates went home, but I had helluva lot of work...... to roll back the mountain of 'spent' film lying on the floor beneath the projector stool.  It was great fun nevertheless.

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 http://junkunjunk.blogspot.in/2013/02/toy-movie-film-projector.html 
This is a link to my other blogpost relating to my projector - its bits!

As I had no other wood for my small bird house project in 2007, I used this!  The only time any bird used it was a Great Tit and I was lucky to take photos of this rare time. You can see the silver paint of the projector still on it.

Chickpea season

Come December, the first sight of Chickpea aka "SoppinakaLLekaai" [ಸೊಪ್ಪಿನ ಕಡ್ಳೇ ಕಾಯಿ in Kannada] is provided by Ramanna.  We met two winters ago in front of our house.  We stopped him.  Ever since this, he has been 'instructed' to stop by frequently during the Chickpea season, which is the winter months, December to February.  And he has been faithfully providing us the supply.    

Chickpea is also known by names like Bengalgram and Garbanzo beans. Some botanical information and my pictures are here: [Dave's Garden] 

'Roasted gram' is an important ingredient in many a south Indian recipe. A bottle of it is earmarked in the kitchen just for this.

"The chickpea is a legume of the family Fabaceae, subfamily Faboideae. Its seeds are very nutritious, high in protein and dietary fibre. It is one of the earliest cultivated legumes: 7,500-year-old remains have been found in the Middle East.", says Wiki.  Another reference says that India produces 70% of world's share.  

Entire plants are pulled out by farmers when the pods are green and the peas inside are green and tender, which is when it is best and sweetest. Many villagers earn their livelihood by selling the plants with pods.  It is a common sight in Mysore during these months.

Two seasons in 2008 and 2009 we used to buy from this man [left]. He never came frequently despite a guarantee to buy. So we missed chickpeas but bought small quantities during the market visits. It was not a satisfying thing because we got too little for a lot of money, compared to what we got from the street vendors.

How we missed our regular man Honnaiah who had stopped coming for some years on either of 1990! 

Around 2002, we caught and bought chickpeas from another vendor at our gate.  With Honnaiah 'absconding', I had started to inquire other vendors if they were from Chikkhalli.  I took a chance and inquired this chap about Honnaiah because he said he was also from Chikkhalli.  Lo, he knew him!  He said he was his ಮಾವ [uncle] and that he no longer sells items as before, but was fine.  This was a sweet piece of information, sweeter than the chickpeas he brought all those years!  We were worried and curious to know about his welfare as we waited only for him though others also used to pass our street selling chickpeas.  I had desired to meet him since long and asked his address.  He said 'Just go to Chikhalli and ask for Yajmaan Honnaiah".  "Yajmaan" is a title somewhat like a 'chieftan'. That itself spoke of his popularity in his village!

Honnaiah was a tall villager who regularly came with Chickpeas during the season and very occasionally groundnuts.  Chikkhalli is a small village, 10 kms east of Mysore.  Our house was in Devaparthiva Road in Chamarajapuram which was his regular route he took using his bicycle. We used to eagerly wait for his loud and familiar call "KaLLekaai.... SoppinkaLLekaai" [ಕಳ್ಳೆ ಕಾಯ್, ಸೊಪ್ಪಿನ್ ಕಳ್ಳೆ ಕಾಯ್ ].  He was a very familiar figure in our locality.

In April 2003, I decided to visit him.  So with with my wife and two kids we went on my scooter in search of Honnaiah.  On reaching the village, we were properly guided by someone to his house, which was very close to the main road.  When we went there, he was surprised and happy. He recognized me.

This was ten years ago.  It was a pleasing experience to visit his house and capture the moment on my film camera. I was so relieved to see that same smile, which now had a contented glow, after so many years. But it was strange without his customary towel wound round his head!  We had been so much conditioned to that typical look.  He had put on weight, perhaps resulting from not bicycling long distances like before. 

The bargaining fight between my paternal aunt and Honnaiah was adding charm into the transaction.  She used to fight with him to give that one extra plant after extra plant  It was a fight he too enjoyed, but never avoided giving.  He never gave one extra unhappily but as I now recollect he wore a sympathetic look, the same when he gives a child.  He did not forget to inquire about her and was sad to know about her death in 1989.  "Oh, how much she used to fight!" he recalled.  It was so kind of him.

The road to Chikkhalli is all the way 'ups and downs'. We realized then, how far and how tough it was for him to ride with that load on his bicycle and visit localities to sell from that far, for a small profit every day.   Each time he sat on the saddle or got down, he had to do it with his right leg crossing in front of him as the carrier behind was full.

 The one who guided us to Honnaiah's house never was spotted again. The present man also is from the same place. I showed Honnaiah's photo to Ramanna. "Oh, Honnappa!".  I asked how he was.  Ramanna informed that he died two years ago [most likely due to old age].

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Eating it without messing!  See how!

Eating them raw is a great feeling, esp. fresh, opening from the pod and popping into the mouth. I learnt the clean technique from my paternal aunt.  There is no need for us to pluck the pod from the plant. There is need for a good thumbnail which I always sport - because of its great utility as a tool.  Here is my video demo!!  

Here are stills :

Hold it in the correct angle. Enjoy the baby pods too by pressing it to produce a pleasing little 'pop'! :)

Press it towards the top and it should open neatly along the 'line'.

Do not miss the good thumbnail tool. Push the cover aside and remove the pea/s. Pop them into the mouth, chew chew.... 

Be ready for a soft surprise as well.  Yikes!  Some will be busy eating the pea inside the cover having gone in by making a tiny hole.  

It is a larva of some host butterfly or moth.  

So keep an eye on the food you eat!! :)

Pods emptied, but still on the plant.  So no mess. That is why I call it as a "clean technique".

Ready for disposal outside the gate, where stray cows consume this delicacy.  Feeding the holy cows is divine, not counting the garbage bins they are fond of visiting, but out of necessity! 

Forgot to say that you need a good stance to start the programme.  

As soon as the lot is bought, I immerse the root portions into a bucket of water.  This keeps the plants from wilting.  It remains almost fresh the next day also.

Ramanna is a good replacement for Honnaiah, but this bargaining charm is missing.  We just tell for how much we want and he keeps the plants in the bucket, of course with a few small plants as a little 'bonus' [in Kannada we call it ಕೊಸರು] which is somewhat customary in many items also.  He also pushes his bicycle in upward gradients.  He has an attraction in my house. He can 're-wet' his greens with water I keep for my garden.  Hope you noticed that act in the beginning.

Bombay Anand Bhavan Stores for Groceries

My fond memories of shopping at Bombay Anand Bhavan Stores

"Bombay Anand Bhavan Stores" was a household name in many Mysore families.  It was somewhat like a 'one-stop shop' situated in the narrow lane just behind Laxmi Vilas, a famous Sari shop near K.R.Circle. Provisions/Groceries [cereals, pulses, flour, spices etc.], Pressure Cookers, Thermos Flasks and whatnot were available in one place.  My fondest memories of this place are from the 1960s and 70s. 

[Author-pictured Nov. 2013].  I have put the name of the shop using Picasa.

The owner R.Vishnu Gopal knew my grandfather - from the Rotary Club.  It was first opened by Vishnu Gopal's father who I understand had a small shop in the late 1920s [may be 30s - needs verification] near the 'OnduvaraaNi Galli' [close to Olympia Talkies] before the new buildings around the K.R.Circle was built. Several customers had patronized it for many reasons for many years.  Probably my grandfather has known them since that time as his office was close by at Gandhi Square.  So it was no wonder that we too patronized it and because of the acquaintance also, my two maternal uncles were employed for short periods.

Pic from 1960s, facebook group. The shop was just behind there.  K.R.Circle is also seen.  Look at this scene from those days - peaceful. That 'OnduaraaNi Galli was to the left out of the frame. 

The item list would be jointly prepared by my mother and grandmother the previous day.  Festivals meant extra quantity. Since our ancestral lands provided our yearly quota of paddy [rice], this was not in the list.  Other grocery items were bought from this store because it also a fine reputation of supplying clean[ed] material. This monthly affair was soon after my father's salary day, which was the last working day of each month. It was a special day for me because it was an opportunity to go the marketplace .... peppermints!  The shop's weekly holiday was on Wednesday.  First Saturday after the 'pay day' was most suitable because father's office had a 5-day week and our school was over by half past ten in the morning.  My grandmother went with mother at times when she wanted to buy flowers in the market. I used to tag along.

  Many times, I would go with my father on his Raleigh bicycle.  On return, our two or three large home-stitched cotton bags, fully loaded, were suspended on either side of the handlebar making balancing a bit tricky for my father as I sat behind him on the carrier, legs on either side.  At other times, I would run behind my mother.  So we went by bus and returned by autorickshaw because the bags were heavy.  I used to carry smaller ones.

Bombay Anand Bhavan Stores was just about 200 metres from the bus stand.  In summer a refreshing juice or ice cream at the popular 'Phalamruta' was an attraction.  This was/is in Lansdowne Building [now under renovation controversy] facing the bus stand.  If I had any book or pencil to buy we went to one of the many book shops in the same row there.  Sometimes when we went in the evening with grandfather, we would ask for 'ice cream' there.  He would say "Okay, you scream."  But he entertained us with a visit to 'Phalamruta'.

Back to the grocery list.  It would be handed over to the manager of Bombay Anand Bhavan Stores.   He would glance at it and allot a person to pack the items. The man would browse at it too.  We had to wait till our items were packed ready.  I enjoyed waiting because it was a great opportunity to leisurely do my 'window shopping' [this was coined long later I presume!] at the showcase kept at the entrance where attractive stationery gifts were displayed.  The price tags were 'beyond our easy reach', yet I have bought a few smaller items of real need from there.  I have showed some of them here.  Read on.

When I finished feasting the eye at the showcase, I went back and watched our packing man go to the sacks or large metal bins where the items were kept open. The necks of sacks with wheat, rice, dal etc. would be rolled down to the level of the contents. A tin mug having an angular brim with a handle was planted upside down in each sack.  We could examine it before choosing a particular quality/variety.  The grocery section was spacious. A long wooden bench counter for keeping the packed materials and the weighing scale and weights separated the customer stools [wooden].  The manager sat in the centre facing the door with the grocery section to his right and the other half of the stores to his left. The grocery section had its typical smell, sometimes strong from the red peppers. When they were packed, the strong aroma would make us cough!

A suitable size paper cover [pre-plastic days] kept handy near the weighing scale, depending on quantity would be picked for packing an item.  The packing material was paper [old magazines, newspapers or school notes or books]. If the quantity was small, he very skilfully made a paper cone from a suitable sheet of paper with the blink of an eye.  If quantity and volume was more, he would choose a cover made from newspapers [usually by poor people who earned a few rupees from this].

Experience makes these packers develop a knack to estimate the weight of an item visually and physically.  A near exact weight would be carried in the cover along with some extra in the tin mug for weighing. After weighing, the packet would be tied with a thin jute thread. This jute thread roll was hung from a rope tied to a hook in  the roof rafter, just a few feet up.  It was great fun to watch the roll dancing and wobbling as thread was drawn. The thread was strong, but could be snapped with just a bit of effort and knack.  After winding the packet he would snap and twist the two ends that stayed put like a knot, but not a knot!  So at home, it was easily unwound.  Much later, they resorted to adhesive tape and staple pins.  The tin mug with any contents would be replaced in its sack.  If the mug was empty and there was no need to go the sacks again, he would toss it over a few feet in such a way that it got planted in the grocery with a thrilling sound! Chhaak!  Like a javelin!

He would tick mark each item in the list as he packed.  His little pencil was always available on his ear. When fully done, he would carefully pile up all the items on the counter and hand over the list back to the manager.

I would stand watching with awe, looking at his face and the pen tip pointing to a figure on the list in alternation as he wrote the 'answer' besides each item.  Multiplying decimal weights was like drinking water to him.  There were no calculators in those days and imagine how sharp they must have been to mentally put a rate.  And how quickly they calculated! We at school suffered in simple arithmetic!

   Finally he would prepare the total, verify and re-verify to be doubly sure of accuracy, lest he lost his profit. There was one in a thousand chance of his 'mistotaling'.  That was the 'bill' and he handed it to us for payment.  And quite by habit and wont, my mother would again check through. After convincing herself, the payment was made.

Now the manager had to confirm the items packed were in order.  The manager would call out the item and quantity and the person who packed confirmed it from the 'feel' and appearance of the packet [remember, paper covers].  Finally, the item count was verified, lest something had escaped attention.  He would place the items carefully in our cloth bags, with heavier and larger ones going in first, at the bottom.

Sometimes, the paper cover would give way in some weak spot or get torn.  There would be an in-transit, in-bag spillage.  When two different packets spilled, it was extra work at home, separating them!

The shop had roaring business, but there was no pressure.  Things appeared calm with a few people. So our waiting was minimal.

We also at times, went to the vegetable market close by to buy vegetables while the items were being packed thus reducing my 'window shopping' time there.  A separate cloth bag was ready for this.  There was no plastic menace anywhere which the black and white picture you saw above reveals.  It was a really clean city back then. The words 'carrybag' and 'eco-friendly' at that time had yet to be coined!!  There was no life in the market without people carrying cloth bags or wire baskets.

This post would not be complete if I did not recall Srinivas, the manager's trusted employee.  He was always neatly attired in a loose fitting white pyjama and long-tailed shirt.  Of very friendly disposition, soft spoken, smiling, kind and courteous, he was always around helping customers with various things.  If you wanted to know about any item, 'ask Srinivas' was the formula.  He was extremely patient and gave correct information or guidance.  He would ride his bicycle to and from work.  His route was our street.  When he went in front of our house and if we were outside, we always gave a wave of the hand or a smile in the morning.  At times on his return at night, he stopped by for a few minutes of informal chat holding his bicycle beside him, outside the gate while we were enjoying the stars or moonlight. No TV like gadgets!  They were the humble 'radio days'.

The main attraction in that shop as I mentioned was the showcase counter displaying an array of catchy items - pens, imported pencils, pencil sharpeners, rulers, gifts and toys etc.

Bombay Anand Bhavan Stores is where I bought my first 'sketch pen' - a fibre tipped pen - in 1972.  I remember not its cost, but it was a great thrill.

In 1974, I was to watch a Test Match in Bangalore [Click to read story].  I had bought a binoculars in this shop for Eighty rupees, a hefty sum.  It was kept in that glass counter!  Also, Eighty rupees was the rate of the ticket [for all 5 days] for the match.

In 1973, I had bought an electric toy motor for fifteen rupees.  I cannot recall how much the batteries costed.  This was to make a Motor Bus for my school project, imitating my more brilliant classmate I.M.Cariappa who had made a beautiful bus and fitted with such a motor!  My bus did not move when the Judges came to the exhibition.  But it was absolute fun, trying to create something with no tools except an old razor blade and my favourite 'black scissors'.

Another silly toy I bought was this. Electro-magnetic toy.  But the most useful thing was the battery holder which I still use. But I had made a calling bell from this, using the striker from our electric bell that had gone kaput. 

After I "fully experimented" [you know what I mean?] with the first motor, I bought another some years later... to make a fan!

This is a picture of Adinarayana Shetty Shop inside the heritage Devaraja Market where we also went for a couple of small items and had no time for the Bombay shop.

See how the items are stored here. As a tradition, he offers a piece of red sugar candy and a few raisins on a piece of paper to married ladies just when they have finished buying.

The shutters of Bombay Anand Bhavan Stores remain closed since the 1990s, but none can erase the memories of that wonderful shop.  Its typical ambience and the way in which they were business-like and friendly at the same time will be missed in reality, but linger in memories who had patronized it. 

Doorstep Vendor Services

An hour or two on either side of noon, ladies of the houses would be relaxing after their morning chores like cooking or washing.  The men would be gone for work. The sparrows chirped in the shrubs around the house and there was that typical Mysore calm and quiet, only broken by the calls like HaLLay peppa kaali seesoooy...ya.  [ಹಳ್ಳೆ ಪೆಪ್ಪಾ  ಕಾಲಿ  ಸೀ ಸೋ ಯ್ ....ಯ] or Steeel paaatroya. [ಸ್ಟೀ ಲ್  ಪಾತ್ರೋೊ ಯ].  Pause, then a repeat call, loud enough to be heard inside even large homes.  It was typical Mysore scenario in the 1960s and 70s.  Such calls from various vendors who roamed the streets selling their wares or services would fill the air.

To list out various vendors from those days was a long-standing plan but when my new friend Kumar recently spelled that unique call in one of his e-mails - we share some nostalgic recollections from the same period - it was a shot in the arm.  So here we go.
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I have tried to spell the calls as they were.  The 'tails' of the calls were usually funny with a bit of drag.
In this post, I list only some "skilled service-vendors" who roamed the streets and went 'door to door', so to say.  Not adding here are the ones who sat in a specified place in shops or pavements and also 'material vendors' who too had their unique calls, but that will be in another post.
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The vendors would either come on foot or a bicycle to go around the streets to earn their livelihood selling their expertise.  They were efficient, quick and reasonable.  What more can we ask for a much needed service at the doorstep?  Even now there are quite a few of them, but many trades have disappeared with the changing needs and way of life.

This post is an attempt to recall some of those vendors and their calls from the past.  All of them came calling in their own special tunes which was nice to give an ear.  I have no photographs or audio recordings from that time but I will try to manage with words to "nostalgiate".
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Let me begin with Hallay peppa kaali seesoooy....ya. It is actually HaLay Paper, Khaali Seesay  - ಹಳೆ  ಪೇಪರ್ ಖಾಲಿ ಸೀಸೆ meaning "old paper, empty bottles".  He would take old newspaper [by weight] or bottles [by count] and pay money to you.  He makes a profit for his services as he is linked with the recyclers.  He usually came on bicycle this service meant luggage and covering many streets.  What was special was his loud, musical call with a final drag at the end, which Kumar spelled so nicely.  He would possess a weighing balance that was customized for 'his profit'!! Cheating with weights was their trademark.  So we rarely called him.

Slowly riding on his bicycle another fellow would call ThigaNayyyy Aushdheeeeya.  [ತಿಗಣೇ ೕ ೕ  ಔಷ್ ಧೀಯ]  Medicine for Bedbugs. This man carried a bag containing his poison potion which he would apply with his spray gun to the cots, beds, pillows and furniture.  All the items had to be kept outside for him to spray. The potion had a terrible smell that spread around and lingered for many hours.  Bedbug was a pesky pest in the olden times in homes, perhaps due to the type of materials and lifestyles. We had to manage with the smell for a couple of days at least.  It used to be a really terrible day when we had to shift in the beds etc. only before dusk as it had to dry.  Hands had to be washed cleanly if we touched the bed or pillows that day.  Bedbugs slowly got eradicated and so was this trade at least in our home. We also used a small 'Flit' hand spray, but it was too small for the volume needed treatment. It was only for urgency and a very popular 'pest control' measure.  That hand sprayer was in almost every house!  That image from ebay.

All images here can be enlarged.

Haaasgay repaireeyoyya.  [ಹಾಸ್ ಗೇ  ರೆಪೇ ರಿ ಯೋೊ ಯ್ಯ]  Mattress repair.  We commonly use the word 'bed' instead of mattress. In those days, only cotton beds were in vogue.  The cotton stuffed in beds would flatten, form lumps, covers got weak and tore, asking attention after years of use.  The bicycle-riding bed-repairman would be available at the doorstep.  He was conspicuous wherever he went with his long harp-like instrument 6 or 7 feet long that was suspended on the handlebar in such a way that it did not inconvenience his riding. I try to illustrate how that wooden 'harp' was.

My wondering about the harp ended many years later. That was when I saw him working in someone's house.  That harp [I will call this harp] was a manual cotton cleaning machine.  We also summoned his service once.  It required a free room because of the dust the work produced.   One end of the harp was tied to a something in such a way that he could sit and swing it left to right, while the rope in that harp was skilfully flicked with his fingers.  The rope was in contact with the old cotton [removed from the bed] as cotton became more voluminous and flew loose all over. Cleaned cotton was filled back and tufting was done with a thick needle.  The bed was all sponginess once again. And I used to jump on it as soon as it was kept aside, ready, as he as collecting his fee.

Kerosene Oil was available freely. We used a wick stove to boil milk etc. So kerosene was an important essential commodity and there used to be a good stored in reserve for emergencies, just in case.  LPG came to us only in the early 80s.  Kerosene was sold from bullock carts going around the streets, almost daily, selling at 26 n.p. [naye paise - new paisa] per litre, which was painted on the barrel. Of course, the rate kept climbing in the 70s. The kerosene cart was fitted with two metal barrels placed horizontally. The seller would sit on top of the front barrel, spanner in one hand and the rope to control the ox. I try to illustrate the scene. 

The rhythmic tapping of the barrel with the spanner to produce the sound was all too familiar to Mysore public. We could hear it from a long distance due to its shrillness.  But he also would call "Seemay eNNayyy" [ಸೀಮೇ ಣ್ಣೇೕ  ] - Kerosene Oil. The spanner was his key to the outlet tap behind the cart.

When he stopped on the road in front the customer's gate to sell, he would use his conical litre-measure with a handle and then funnel the oil into the customer's container, usually an old oil tin can.   Almost always there was an argument about the measure and the foam that formed at the neck.. So even if the measure was a standard one, he found another way to cheat. 

Steeel paaatroya. [ಸ್ಟೀ ಲ್  ಪಾತ್ರೋೊ ಯ ] [Stainless] Steel utensils.  He came on foot, carrying a large bamboo basket on his head, cushioned by a roll of towel. That call was also familiar and an everyday phenomenon. He sold utensils and also bartered for old clothes.  If someone called him, he would come and remove the heavy basket from his head to the floor.  A helping hand was required.  I wondered how he managed to walk around with such a heavy thing up there for a long time. If people called him, it was good for his neck to get some respite.

Since he had the cloth barter system, the ladies thought they made a small profit of a steel utensil for the kitchen by disposing old clothes.  He would fix up a value for the clothes in the form of a certain utensil. That was the starting rate.  He knew full well that the lady would still want a better vessel.  He would pause and mentally calculate something and then offer a slightly better utensil.  This argument went on for sometime until a deal was struck.  If not, he would carry the basket and move on.  Again, a helping hand was needed to lift the basket onto his head by someone as it used to be quite heavy with his ware and the bundle of clothes already bartered. 

Kalai patreya.  [ಕಲಾಯ್   ಪಾತ್ರೇ ೕ ಯ ] In those days, most of the houses had been using brass, copper and bronze utensils for cooking.  'Stainless steel' was slowly making its way into kitchens only to completely change the scenario in the coming decades. So, the inners of those old utensils needed to be coated with tin from time to time to prevent poisoning esp. when sour/salty stuff was kept/cooked. This is an age-old practice. This man would come either on his bicycle or on foot carrying his tools, charcoal and a small air blower.  When someone called him, a fee was agreed upon and he would start working.  First, he chose a place outside the house - footpaths were nice and clean and of mother earth!  A small pit would be dug up for burning charcoal to heat the vessels which were large too.  He made arrangements for his blower, the small pipe connecting the pit bottom for blowing charcoal. I used to watch this blower in action with great curiosity.  He would hold the vessel his long pliers and twisted it around to heat all round.  He applied tin in powder form that melted on coming in contact with the hot vessel and quickly spread the thin tin film around the inner surface as tin melted. Here are some images in someone's blog. [Click]  This one is better for images, but the text is in Hindi.  [Click]  This is very nearly what was done in front of our house.  I am showing a large bronze vessel [above] from our attic. 

Kathree, chaakooo SaaNay Hidisteerammaaav?  [ಕತ್ರೀ, ಚಾಕೂ  ಸಾಣೆ  ಹಿಡಿಸ್ತ್ಹೀರಾಮ್ಮಾವ್ ] This long call was a question to the womenfolk here. [Amma, means womenfolk in this context.]  His expertise was sharpening scissors, knives, sickles etc.  His tool was a customized frame fitted with a bicycle rim, belt-driven, pedal-powered and fitted to a smaller wheel that held the grinding stone.  He carried this machine behind his back.  My favourite thing to watch how sparks flew away from him as he sharpened weapons!  I took this picture [left] near the New Delhi Railway Station. How beautifully they customize their bicycles too! 

He would walk along the streets calling. Chatthreee repairee. [ಚತ್ರೀ  ರಿ ಪೇರೀ ] Umbrella repair.  He came with a bag of paraphernalia, new spokes, nails, thread, needle, scissors, cloth, spare handles etc.  Of course, those were the days when things were used till it was no longer fully unusable.  Only then something was disposed.  As such, many things were repaired and repaired till its full life was squeezed out!  Money was not squandered, even if one had. If something was bought, they squeezed out the maximum value.  There was no garbage problem because people did not generate it unnecessarily as well!  For so many things the old times are referred as the 'good old days'.

Cobblers also walked around looking for their business while some sat under a tree shade spreading their tools in front of them. Chapplee repaireeee, [ಚಪ್ಪ್ಲೀ  ರಿ ಪೇರೀ ] he would call every now and then looking if someone gave him work.. If someone had any broken strap of a flip-flop or other footwear that needed any repair, he would sit outside the gate, do his job and collect his fee, which was very nominal, before walking away.  When I see the myriad variety of footwear available in the market and when I see the broken footwear thrown/disposed on the spot where it broke makes me think how bad the quality of material we have now, esp. women's.  Before fibre and PVC, only leather and rubber constituted the materials. They were so durable and even repairable! A 'stitch in time' used to extend its service hugely.  Doorstep service was invaluable. I learnt how to repair the chappal by stitching from these fellows and also how they waxed the thread to add strength to it.

Plaasteek Saamaan Repairee..... [ಪ್ಲಾಸ್ಟೀ ಕ್  ಸಾಮಾ ನ್ ರಿ ಪೇರೀ]  Plastic items repair.  This trade was rather short-lived in the late 80s. This man would carry pieces of plastic bucket and such, an iron with a wooden handle - this was the 'heat solder', charcoal and an air pump. Just like the tin coating man, he would prepare the ground for charcoal burning.  They had found out business in this as we used to throw away cracked buckets.  This service came as a boon to extend the life of buckets especially as they were the ones that broke most and buying a new one every now and then was proving a bit costly. He would fix up a fee and start working.  He would neatly seal the crack with his junk plastic piece.  The solder was heated and he melted the edges of the pieces he had placed on the crack with it. This was done on both sides of the container.  Lo, the bucket was usable again!  But the work was not guaranteed as the joints were liable to come off any time for some reason.  Probably the arrival of malls and easier flow of money in middle class families eased the way of life.

The aura surrounding such doorstep services, the arguments by the women about fixing the fee, the thrill of watching work done in front cannot replace modern methods.