Anger, in brief

Many years back on one of my trips to Bombay [now Mumbai], I happened to be walking on a pavement in a famous area renown for pavement vendors. At that time, I had a fancy to collect interesting knick-knacks. So my attention fell particularly on one adhesive sticker in a heap of hundreds of other stickers with different pictures, designs and messages. I picked up this innocuous looking sticker [Pictured above - click on it to view it full and read what is printed] and just went through its content. I bought it for a rupee along with a few others to use them for my letter correspondence with friends, which was a hobby at that time.

When I returned home and was leisurely looking at this sticker again, I realized that it was loaded with wisdom and so it never found its original purpose of being bought. But it was one to be held back and displayed under the table-top glass to remind ourselves and others who see it, what "anger" is all about, in just a few simple words! In fact, it was kept on the office desk and gained much popularity. I wonder how many changed their behaviour after appreiating this.

Its price was just a rupee, but its value immense, in terms of meaningfulness!

Books that 'nostalgiate' my childhood

There will be some little things we want to keep for life just to ‘nostalgiate’ childhood. One such thing in my case is a small picture-story book. A collage of four of its pages is shown above. It was a Russian publication. This book had to be there almost each time when my mother fed food to me forcibly with the spoon. I can vividly remember how cranky I was at that very tender age when it came to food. Morsels of food dropped on its pages reminded that, like the other old heavy, big book with many pictures.

This small book was torn with repeated use, some careless handling by others and improper maintenance. After many years, just a page or two of it remained and there came a stage when they too vanished! Somehow my memory of this could never fade.

My elder daughter was repeating what I did – being cranky to get fed morsels of food and many methods had to be thought of, but showing books at that time usually was a wee bit easier and quicker for the mother.

A book exhibition arrived. We had gone there with the little kid. I was so happy to see that same book, now translated to Kannada from Russian and English, still getting printed and in circulation in the children’s shelf! The child in me jumped out. Without a second thought, it was 'added to the cart'. It was a fresh replacement to the one that 'vanished'. I had lost hopes of seeing it again. Both daughters love this beautifully illustrated book and get immense pleasure looking at even now and they are not alone.

The other big book I told is still in good condition, but with some food-stained pages. I was also happy to see this century-old book with rare pictures of our country, titled ‘Glimpses of India’, reprinted and sold in another book exhibition. I never tire of turning their pages even now. Doing that, I backtrack in the time-machine.

My grandmother, her skills and some of her

Grandmothers are normally interesting old ladies with lots of talent and knowledge. I had the good fortune to be with mine for a donkey's life-span. They say it is 20. Her talent in many things was famous and some of them unique. Her handicrafts with rice and paddy stand out. The decorative pictures and objects she created stand testimony. A couple of them she made in 1935 out of rice is amazing. She had learnt a rare art of tying the tiny grains, of the same size which she carefully chose, on to thin bamboo strips and made lovely objects like Clock Tower [model of the one that stands near the palace], a fruit basket model and a house model with paddy grains, a chariot, a cradle, a lady's purse, a few decorative designs for a wall hanging using rice grains that still survive in nearly the same conditon. Some poorly protected models are eaten away by Nature's elements.

The works won many prizes at the famous Dasara Exhibition in the Ladies' Section for many years and was one of the most unique works of art. Preparing and exhibiting them there gave plenty of joy to her, esp. when people conveyed the feedback!

These two are popular images of paintings of Raja Ravi Varma. My grandmother has ornately decorated the pictures with jewelry and attire!

Aside from crafts, she excelled in the culinary field too, more popularly and almost obviously. Dishes prepared by her were a treat to the palates! I can vouch for that quality. Her participation in the Exhibition's Cooking Section also won many prizes. Traditional foods like Muchore, Kodubale, Chakli and Badami/khova Obbattu were her specialities. The food she prepared at home was a daily treat, be it anything. The visitors and guests remember the special taste they relished, even today. She had no measuring cups, spoons or weighing scales. The quantity was decided by the feel in her gifted hands and a mere look. That was the secret. In her days, the cooking was done on fire. Charcoal. Kerosene stove was there but that was for boiling milk, mostly. Gas was taboo. It did not satisfy the 'madi norms'! We had no cooking platform either, for the same reason. She squatted on the floor and cooked. The cooking area was neatly wiped with cowdung paste. Since she belonged to the old school, she did not have much idea about hygeine in her operations. I was reaching college at that time and was getting to know a little bit about hygeine and was beginning to ask many questions regarding her washing hands frequently. She used to get irked because she did not know the answer! Whatever it was, we never had any stomach upsets at all! Those were days when the intestines were periodically and forcibly cleaned with raw castor oil consumed orally -- yuck, yuck! Only those who have taken it know how awful it tastes!!

Award Certificates from 1931, 1956 and 1967.

The 'gojju' [sweet pickle] from bitter lime was a great favourite. Onion, tomato, beetroot and papaya were in her 'untouchables' list. So were bakery products. It was a special occasion when she prepared a 'sambar' with onion-potato [she never tasted it because of the onion] and served at the 'moonlight dinner'. That meant the accompaniment of Papads, Sandige, Peni and salted chillies, much to our joy. The daily Rasam [saaru] was her best though! Sandige [made out of popped rice] somehow came out beautifully from her special hands. Another dish was 'Brinjal Yennegai'. It was sometimes taken to the Ladies Club and many members snatched the item lest they missed the delicacy that it really was!

It is the grandmother who will stand by in case of pregnancy and confinement that takes place at homes. Her experience and knowledge always comes in handy. She will have skill and knowledge to handle health situations with her home remedies for which she had many opportunities.

Grandmothers reading English was seen as something great in those days. We made her read the English newspaper or some lines of the text book loudly and that thrilled us! She read the Kannada daily regularly.

I have seen my mother assisting my grandmother in her various handicrafts she did and they were all works of great patience, neatness and elegance. Those were calm days with no noise except the birds chirping or the monkeys that visited the premises jumping from branch to branch and creating a nuisance. The monkey menace is another story altogether. In such an environment her work used to be created and she was in no hurry to finish, except when she had to run out to see if monkeys spoiled any of the food items kept out for sun drying. Precision was of utmost importance. We miss those calm days when I used to observe her deft fingers at work.

There may be more educated grandmothers with more skill and legend, but a grandmother is a grandmother, despite the fact that menopausal changes reflect on occasional weird behaviour at times . She was married at 6, widowed for two years in the end and she died in her 70th year after a brief coma which was so sad to see. Fortunately, some of her skills, esp. the culinary part, are transferred to my mother. Talent-wise, she has her own.

The nap that made history

This appeared in today's paper [19th February, 2009] and I was astonished by this news that took my memories whirling back to 1983.

I was vying for a place in the Mysore Zone ‘Under-25’ Cricket team. Sharp drizzle forced the selection trials at the Maharaja's College grounds to stop mid-way through the morning session. As the pitch became wet, it was decided to continue at 2 p.m.

After a peaceful lunch at my half-a-mile-near-home I thought of wakeful resting for a while. In a relaxed posture, I laid my back to the rolled-up bed on my cot.

When my eyes opened, the clock was showing 2.15. Shock! One full hour had passed in a jiffy. Hurriedly put on my cricket shoes - already in cricket attire - and sped on my Robin Hood bicycle to the venue in a double quick time only to find an empty ground! Puzzled, I looked around and lo, they were already playing in the adjacent ground where a club's practice wicket was. That was found to be drier and not much affected by the shower. Sheepishly, I reported and explained my late coming, in truth, to the selector who fortunately allowed me to join play, though late by about 20 minutes.

Later, to my great joy, my bowling talent had made it to the final team, for the third and last year. Good performances and luck esp. in the semi-final [toss of coin] had taken us through to the final for the first time against yet another first-time finalist, Dharwar Zone. We were soon standing with our backs to the wall, still needing 35 runs to take the vital lead when no.11 M.S.Ravindra joined me at No.10, both of us on zero. The target was overhauled, run by run, but not without hiccups. Our last wicket partnership had led us to a historic, maiden Shield-victory!

As it proved in the very end, selector Maj. Hemachandar’s decision to allow me late for the trials foiled Dharwar bowler Hemachandra’s victory bid - he had skittled seven of us but not me as I got run out but by then we had taken that vital lead that clinched the match.

Had that siesta stretched any longer, I would not have been able to savour that sweet victory-moment, leave alone get selected! Since then, I have never dared to attempt even a catnap before any engagement, esp. after a luncheon. It can really make us drowse if we do nothing!

That scented eraser

One fine day around 1966, before the mass prayer in school, my classmate Dayananda was proudly, gleefully displaying that big, crisp ten rupee note to us. We 3rd Standard boys were quite stunned to see him with such a fortune in his hands! Ten rupees!! That was not yet a 'pocket money' age for us then and we were not bought things unless absolutely necessary.  I learn long later that the Rupee had full value in the economy during that time and in general people spent money very judiciously. Dayananda came from a rich business family, in fact used to live close to our house. 

This is how the big ten rupee was.  It is from the same period, from my collection.  'Signed by PC Bhattacharya'. Front view.

Reverse.

So that 'fine day' was also to turn out to be a day when we learnt some life lessons. Perfumed erasers [we called 'scent rubbers'] had begun to enter Indian shops.  In no time it seemed to have become popular, attracting school children. We were told they were imported from Japan. The main body of the eraser was soft and white, with letters of the English alphabet one on each were in the box.  A corresponding picture accompanied the letter. There was also a green 'strip', somewhat translucent, on the 'top'. The eraser had a pleasantly sweet fragrance and that I can still smell that sweetness shows how deep it has an impression in my mind.  There will be certain little things like this that sticks on in the memory for a very long time, in many of us. 

Parents were pestered to buy this 'expensive', dream rubber that cost a hefty fifty paise each, a whopping five times dearer than their best Indian counterparts. The 'local' erasers we were bought were hard and erasing was akin to scratching.  They were also leaving a mess and sometimes even making a hole in the paper.  But these new scent rubbers gave an unbelievably smooth, clean erase leaving nearly no 'debris'.  What a joy!  Didn't we simply erase what we wrote just to use the eraser? Joy!  Those were still pencil days in 3rd std.

This 'rich' boy Dayananda had perhaps designed a plan for that day, with this 'big money'. We had finished our mid day meal from our little lunch boxes and somehow a group of 5 or 6 was formed. I can remember three of them - Manohar, Rajagopal and Srinivas. Soon we were heading for the nearby shop, called "New Corner" [really 'new' at that time and thriving even today]. He used to keep small stationery items, peppermints, etc.  The shop also sold this wonder rubber. In those days, ten rupees could buy a lot of things.  So besides scent rubbers, he bought us chocolates and pencils of our choice for the entire ten rupees and our pockets were filled with these 'generous gifts'. Time had halted while we were happily feasting at the counter. 

So much excited we were with Dayananda's 'treat' that we had lost track of the length of time we spent at New Corner and completely oblivious of what was in store back at school, we leisurely walked back admiring the new possessions in our little pockets.  It also had not occurred to us the fear of being asked esp. at home "where did you get all those?".  

As it was, we were quite late for the afternoon session. We were shocked to see the premises 'silent and empty'.  The afternoon session had started, we never guessed how long before. So we were caught coming late. We were so frightened, somewhat guilty to ask permission to enter the class.  As feared, we were made to stand outside the class and the matter was duly reported to the strict Head Mistress. Interrogation revealed the truth. We were warned and let in to attend the class but the 'ten-rupee-boy' was retained for further inquiry.

The following day, his parents were called and the boy was reprimanded. That money was supposed to be remitted by him as school fee [it was Rs.5/- per month], but the temptation and boldness to buy the scent rubber had got the better of him. He joined another school for his 4th for different reasons.

The incident had taught us a lesson about what squandering money was all about and how bad it can be esp. at such young ages.  Dayananda is around and we meet very occasionally.  I had once asked him if he remembered the scent rubber shopping spree, but his memory of that was zero, but the scent of the rubber and of the 'feast' still lingers in mine, never to be erased.  

* * * * *

How did the eraser look like?

 I now add the picture of that rubber, thanks to one Mr. Ankur who gave the link  [Hong Kong Museum] in the comment intimating where the image is on the net.  Here it is, the screenshot:

Hitting and Kicking

Hitting or kicking is our common instinct to let out built-up anger. Two incidents proved I was no exception. Blood really boils in the teens and early twenties, does it not?

The first one was during my early high school days. Narayana (around my age) was a boy who worked as a helper at my friend’s house and used to occasionally join us for street cricket and other games. He was allowed this bit of time. Teasing with irrelevant nicknames was common but they were usually overdone to irritate. 

Another senior street mate had started calling me as monkey.  It was fine if it was for some occasional fun.  But he had been calling frequently and it was 'overfun' for me.  I did not like it one bit.  Other boys also had picked this up. 

One evening, I lost my tolerance with Narayana overdoing this and everybody knew it. An impulsive kick into his ‘most sensitive anatomical part’ was the result. He fainted.  This made us very anxious, esp. a timid me and think of a timid fellow resorting to such a measure! He recovered after a few minutes, much to my 'delight'.  Play was stopped and I and went home after friends pacified us down. For the next few months, I even avoided his house for my school route, fearing retaliation and also avoided play when he was around. But much to my relief, nothing happened till he was sent away. Peace for me, returned and I was stopped being called a monkey henceforth.

During my college days, my friend Venky’s friend had a nasty habit of saying ‘hello’. He would forcefully push his fingers from a high back swing [as in sport] into shirt-pockets of those he met. He was not that close a friend to me to be greeting me that way. One evening, this crazy friend met me and Venky but he first did it to me! The pocket tore off! Venky could not believe his eyes and ears. I was hurling abuses while hitting hard with a ‘bowling action’! (Cricket was our common factor) Venky tried to pacify but came in the way of my moving arm and got hit! Somehow the fight ended. At that time, Venky had borrowed a book for me, from him. I never returned it deliberately, because he had torn off my only ‘terrycot’ shirt! I never met this fellow again.

The recipients might not have learnt their lessons but I slowly did. For, they were the only times these instincts were let out outside home -– *wink*. Witness Venky remembers one of them, my only kick. Looking back, it is a funny feeling. But beware the fury of the patient man!

Namma Mysooru Nirmala Mysoora?

[The accompanying pictures have been taken fresh as well as from my few-months-old files.]
~~~~~~

"Nirmala Mysooru". We want that, but it seems a long way away. Just look at the problem-scenes near one of the more important roads and its crosses in as important a locality as Lakshmipuram, just outside the precincts of our home that faces Vani Vilas Road, just for an example. If such things can be here, that can be everywhere. And they are! Whom to blame? The authorities or the public, or both? I list below some common problems that the residents of our house face day in and day out and not other houses, because they are the careless contributors to the filth and unhygeine. We have to suffer for no fault of ours!

Garbage clearance, garbage burning - a burning problem:Elderly pourakarmika lighting fire to his small swept up heap - there are bigger heaps, often! He is unafraid of complaints and says on my asking 'who has asked you to burn them', he says "they only have told me, you go!"

The corner of Lakshmipuram I main and I cross is a 'popular' place where all manner of dirt and waste are thrown. The generators of such waste are the nearby homes, with the exception of ours. It is mostly the 'elite' who generate lots of plastic waste and their servants dump dump at that place. Some are instructed by their owners to light a match and burn them and if not, some rag-picker or scavengers that loiter around burns it. This happens at any time. Frequently, the corporation pourakarmikas also do this to their swept up heap to avoid getting cleared by the garbage truck. The garbage truck sometimes picks up the heap and they are happy to see the ash pile of burnt waste! Automobile shops throw waste electric wires which are collected by the rag pickers who burn off the plastic insulation to get copper wire which they sell off in gujaris. They do this adjacent to our compound wall by using thermocole and other plastic waste as fuel to burn! The usual garbage heap that goes for regular burning contains thermcole, disposed plastic covers, pet bottles, cotton pillows, sponge wastes, rexine waste pieces (from nearby upholstery shops), dry leaves, mowed off lawn, shrub branches, waste chemical powder [from a manufacturer next to the place] and all the dirt one can imagine. Often, cleaning and removal by the authorities is superficial. Early morning, the garbage truck clears the heap in the morning. But most of the problem begins after that. The servants visit their owners for work later and they do the 'disposal' at their own times which goes on till night. So they burn at any time!! Who are the sufferers? Our house residents. All the smoke that rise from there is carried by the breeze into our house and it keeps on burning for hours together and we have to keep inhaling the deadly smoke. As such burning of waste is poisonous to humans and also the environment. The 'elite', the rag-pickers, the pourakarmikas or the servants are not bothered about it [because they are not affected!] even if they are aware or unaware. I suggested shifting the dustbin [earlier there was one] to a location about 100 feet further westwards (which would be behind Sawday House) as the most suitable place considering the problems it is creating from its corner location, esp, to our premises. Many times, I have carried water all the way round and poured it on burning material. The garbage truck no doubt, picks up, but may be too early in the day and that too not every day -because they find only ash the next morning if they come!
This is in the evening. I asked my neighbour to pour water to the fire - fabrics and cotton, plastic and wood! Notice the rag-picker sorting his find - from the dustbin [now removed, but open for throwing around!]
Taken in th afternoon. The heap was burning/fuming for more than 2 hours and nobody cares!
This is on the other side of our house on Vani Vilas Road - another regular scene, right in front of a Nursing Home!
A big heap of uncleared plastic, fallen flowers paper and many materials ready for burning. Someone fired it.
We get to know only after the heap is fired and the smoke enters our house and that is when I run to see who did it, but no one is in sight. If I suspect anyone (though I know he/she did it) and ask, the answer is "I did not fire it."
This is on a different day - some coir, rubber, rexine, sponge, cotton - obviously from an upholstery shop, added to the already lying pile of waste and put on fire. That was deadly smoke and it was fuming for 5 hours. I had to put water from a pail eventually! Sometimes it fumes all night!

Footpath vendors: A mobile tea/food item vendor operates everyday. Water from washing used utensils along with left over food particles are thrown on the footpath making the area constantly wet, foul smelling and attracting flies. The customers have erected stone benches at convenient places that is being used by others also for other things that disturbs peace to residents of our house, besides unhygeinic conditions that affects mostly us. Aerial view of the vendors from our first floor -observe the sitting benches, etc.Preparing to leave after a day's work - look at the washed water in the foreground with footsteps, near our compound wallWaste water disposing by the vendor before closing time.

Storm water drain: The existing storm water drain adjacent to our compound was cleared of accumulated mud (from various digging works over the years) last year but it was only done in the stretch along the compound wall up to the corner facing Vani Vilas Road. This has a dead end where storm water and urine passed by numerous passers by gets accumulated in this. It has become a great breeding place for mosquitoes and a great nuisance with foul smell. Added to it, in spite of my protest, some lorry heaped a full load of rubble on to our compound wall facing the Vani Vilas Road. The stagnating water from that dead-end drain and this rubble which absorbs moisture is putting our compound wall in danger. The existing drain running at the base of our compound wall facing the Vani Vilas Road has been completely filled up from the digging work over the years and all the dirt and dirty water gets accumulated in front of our gates, due to the rise nearly two feet in the level of old "footpath" which is nothing but rubble, weed and dirt. The area where the food vendor operates has rain water and also his dish-washed water stagnating right on the asphalted road because of faulty sloping, a haven for mosquitoes and filth. Look at the slush in the storm water drain, after a rain - the far end has a dead end!!
This is the lorry emptying debris to our compound facing Vani Vilas Road despite my protest.

Plastic: All the sun screen radium sticker shops close by, use the area of the footpath near our premises for their work and all the torn and unwanted plastic pieces are strewn around at the place of work which flies around everywhere in the wind and even enters our premises. Not to mention the banned plastic covers that 'join the party'! Notice the worker sticking plastic to the car window.

Urination: The walls esp. facing either side of the I main road was a virtual open toilet at both day and night [affected from the nearby bar]. While renovating our compound wall 'God-image tiles' were used and a good majority of urinators have shifted to the opposite side wall that is not of a house. Yet, stink emanating from hundreds of urinators at the same place is nauseating and unbearable. Ours is the only house on this small stretch of road and we are the only sufferers!

Just a few of the pissing rascals.

When I went to the area corporator some time back, I was told that they were 'uncontrollable' problems, including urination!! They want house tax in time, they want votes from us! What do we get? Filth and poisonous smoke. And they talk of making Mysooru Nirmala.

I have seen such things happen in many areas of the city also. People, both the literate and illeterate resort to burning of waste material. People write in the papers to sort out garbage at the micro level itself before disposing off outside, but then it wont work. Because, the rag-pickers and those who loiter around open up and strew the contents around searching for their items of interest! The only solution is to ban throwing out any sort of garbage outside homes, but to dispose off only in containers directly to the garbage vehicle, which is not functioning in our locality.

Do not believe the advertisements that say Mysore is a garden city -- it was, decades back. It is now a garbage city and I'm not ashamed to tell this, having seen both the pre and post plastic eras. Things have changed under my very nose! But I hope the tables turn around.

What do we do now? Do the authorities want to educate the pourakarmikas, rag-pickers, slum dwellers, public, the so called elite, the literates, illiterates and everybody and strictly instruct them about the hazards of burning, importance of clean environment, about greenhouse gases, global warming....? Just a few persons write in the papers.. sounds nice to read, but read by just a small majority. It is the impact that is necessary and it has to come only from the relevant authority with a bang. The public must have an attitude to be responsible for keeping public spaces clean and neat. Without public cooperation, such things will only spread and become worse.

A few more shots:
Politician's temporary hoarding right in front of our premises: Later, the stumps of the two poles were left posing danger to pedestrians!! Looks beautiful, eh??

Vehicle-washing right in front of our gate: the vehicle belonging to a travel agency across the road is parked for long hours on the cross road.