Box Collection!

In olden days, most of the products came to the consumer from the manufacturer either in wooden containers or tin boxes or tin cans. Plastic was not an item in the dictionary before the 1950s, though celluloid had been discovered in the late 19th century. Those were not "use and throw days" for sure. Any container that reached the consumer found a further use after the intended product reached him. So the container stayed along in shelves. In the kitchen, there was the familiar sight of lined up tin cans of Ovaltine, Threptin or Bournvita or any such suitable can with durable air-tight lids to keep the daily needed sugar, dhals, coffee powder, etc. Crystal salt could not be stored in them but in a porcelain jar. Tin cans were safer than glass in terms of handling in the kitchen. The sound of closing back the tin lids by tapping was unique! Opening them required a sharp finger nail or a handle of a spoon.

The tin cans never rusted because they were handled everyday. I have none to show because, see-through PET containers have long replaced them and revolutionized kitchen storage.

Many items/products were sold/presented by the manufacturer in attractive boxes/containers. We have with us at home some such. Some are in poor condition due to neglect and non-usage (of course, the attic!) while some got stored in cleaner surroundings and in occasional use. Also remember, that was a cleaner atmosphere in the olden days with less garbage/waste production from homes - deadly plastic now forms a major share in pollution!

I'm not a collector, but showing just a collection - rather 'accumulation'! Random order with short descriptions are given. Their period of arrival mentioned are only guesstimates. I've added a caption wherever necessary in the pictures themselves.

Click on them to view larger images.


Read the cap of Welcome Chemical Works - Over 270 highest awards. Period not known.

4 ounces of Soluble Cocoa from Holland.

Etonia Handkerchiefs perhaps of the 20s.
Confectionery boxes which were mostly gifts for our birthdays - 60s, 70s.

Sandal Soap - must be from 30s.

Pears Soap Box of the 50s guess, still glittering - was my aunt's favourite.

Himalaya Bouquet Toilet Powder for 'natural loveliness'! 1950s.

1920s' needle cases. Observe the design of the one on the extreme left. Centre case has a hole to take out a needle.

Tiny coloured leads for pencils were kept in this -30s.

No one in the family was a smoker. I wonder how this Cigar box from Spencer's came and stayed since probably 30s.
Parle Sweets - 40s or 50s.

"Afternoon Tea" from Britannia Biscuit Co. Ltd. They already had factories in 3 cities! This must be from 1920s or thereabouts.

This is a 1960s box gifted by my maternal uncle. Beautiful pictures on it.

1950s again... Lipton Tea had this offer for a period of time. Lovely "Jewel Casket" they called it.

We hated the contents of this as children in the 60s. De-worming tablets!

Another confectionery box from the 60s in my guess.

This may abe of the 40s in my estimate going by the caption of the picture there on this Octagonal Morton's Box.

My grandfather was a sportsman who also played Tennis and Golf. Those two above are two cans that held 3 golf balls each. The left one is a cardboard box and the other is of aluminium from the reputed Dunlop. This should be of the 50s. The one below is a can of tennis balls from Dunlop again, probably of the 40s.



My grandfather had owned a car for some time but sold off because he found it difficult to maintain it. 1940s or thereabouts. The car left him but the empty cans of motor oil and gear oil have stayed back. In fact, the white and red can had half a can of oil!! Smell of the oil was very very odd. Unbearable. I tried to use it for my kerosene lamps by mixing part of it but it never succeeded. This old oil never seemed to burn properly - probably it loses combustibility on storage. The flame never burned satisfactorily while giving that odd smell on burning.

The above yellow can from Shell has been reshaped by a smithy.

Nobody smoked in the family. Yet, this lovely box of State Express 555 now holds my watch-repairing screw drivers.

Viceroy Cigarettes again.

This is my favourite, Threptin biscuit box of plastic that held four Compact Discs -- biscuit discs!


Spring Dumb-bell box. Print is all but little gone. We can read "Edward VII", "Bell"... and can see a part of the 'Sandow's hand'. Belonged to my great grandfather and when 19th century turned into 20th.

Shalimar Biscuits ... enriched with vitamins, butter crisper says the bottom of the box that also held another pair of dumb-bells. This is in very bad shape.

This is the earlier original box now with its real content.

Mellin's Food Biscuit box.

Cardboard box of Mysore Banians, manufactured by the renown K.R.Mills.  Note the price of one banian - one rupee and sixtyfive paise.  This must be from the 1960s.

This is a Panama Cigarette box, probably gifted by the company with some packs as a special limited offer. Lovely plastic. 

Some are rusty and are on the way out, finally. It is very difficult to dispose off junk. The moment the hand picks an item up, the mind drags it back -suddenly it looks attractive!

Winners’ plight, trophies’ fate

My grandfather's High Jump medal, Presidency College, Madras, 1921, as thick as a two-rupee coin

Who would not like to be a winner, esp. in sport and other competitions? Of course, parents push kids to ‘win’. The ‘problem’ comes after that, to winners. The prize distribution ceremony! Winners are handed over objects that are called ‘trophies’ or mementos. Of course, the occasion is absolutely thrilling.

I’m not talking about those ‘objects’ we see on television which is usually national or international events – they are of a class of its own. I want to share what I have seen from personal experience at other lower levels of sport and some other competitions. But first let me take you back to a golden era. Good things first!

Are such trophies given these days?

My grandfather was a ‘winner’ in various sports. He was a fine all-round sportsman in his days in the early part of the last century. Athletics, Hockey, Cricket, Football, Bridge, Billiards, Golf and Tennis brought him laurels, esp. the last one for which he was more renowned, needless to say, in his profession also, as a lawyer. He played the sport as it should be and used to mention some incidents proudly. One of them was ‘keep Subba Rao away if you want to win’! He was such a sure-shot winner esp. in Athletics in his college days. Some beautiful medals he was awarded are shown here. As beautiful as they are made and presented with full information like name, year, event and occasion, neatly engraved they became ‘proud possessions’ for the third generation as well!

One of his Tennis cups.

He had great pride in his achievements and was very fond of saying or showing “there are seventy cups” (that matched a riddle ‘seven tea cups’) that he won during his active playing days spanning about 60 years. These are lovely trophies made with expert craftsmanship which he preserved in a special showcase. Engraved details add to the glory and value. They are show-pieces that have never lost their sheen after decades, though the winner of them is no more for long. They require no polishing!

This is a medal that was awarded to my granduncle - I had never seen him. Look at that engraving. I learned that he too was a talented sportsman.

In high contrast, objects presented nowadays are mere junk, more like fast food. They are of cheap metal or breakable plastic in weird shapes that occupy a lot of shelf space. They are kept glimmering on the stage at the time of presentation (to please the concerned). In less than a year, quite expectedly, they dull beyond recognition! Some of them are actual potent weapons that can give a cut as if from a blade. So what do you do then? We have to be merciless.

Which one of these 'weapons' to keep? That is not a showcase you see here!

Some perpetual winners have a real problem in storing these gaudy trophies [of course there are odd and lucky exceptions]. They reach a stage when shelf space and much later suitcase space becomes a premium. Cricket brought me some such and I know how hard it is to ‘maintain them’ after reaching a stage where I’m asking myself “Which one to keep and which one not to keep out on show”. Think of disposing? Where and how to dispose? Trophies are not recyclable as well! It is an unsportsmanlike idea, a painful dilemma. But such winners have to draw a line and get moving. Sportsmen have to be practical, you see! The pleasure and memories of winning remain long if not the trophy. I tried to read the engraving (poorly done) on a certain trophy. I was lost!

Look at the two of them on the right.

My young musician-relative has the same problem, on a much grander scale. A real pain in the neck for her mother!

Sportsmen ought not to sell their prizes unless it is for an emergency. We have heard of pathetic stray cases of old sportsmen selling their medals to survive poverty!

Nowadays, not many people go up the showcases in houses they visit and inquire about a displayed item! So disheartening! Because the TV is a horrid distraction! Or is it the general commercial mindset that has set in? Trophies are not usually the priority for others besides the few interested. Often, showcases become a dumping place for such things that were won with so much pain and pleasure!

I have begun to wonder when the organizers of events will realize the importance of handing over a ‘useful item’ for the winners as a memento, instead of such cheap showy things called ‘trophies’ on which they spend so much! Presenting trophies of the quality I told about my grandfather’s time is simply unthinkable today. They always find space in the showcase. None manufacture such quality.

"All that glitters is not gold." But old!

People seem to have no fancy for “trophies” in recent times and in that background, why not the organizers of various events think of awarding the winners with other useful things for mementos for the same cost? After all, don’t we curiously inquire these days “how much does it cost?” even after winning? Let’s hope some horse sense shows up on the horizon.

K.M.Subba Rao

The carrierwalla

[Image from the Net]

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Before seventies or sixties, workingwomen were as sparse as hotels. It was the accepted and safe practice to consume only home-prepared food, cooked with love and affection by the family women. Their counterparts of today are called “housewives” - sounds like ‘houseflies’, or with some polish, “homemakers”.

Workingmen preferred warm home food. They were used to fresh food from their childhood days – from ovens to plates to palates! Nowadays, they are spoilt by fast food, junk food and cold food which have made them more flexible and adaptable! Their palates can take anything.

Let me remember the carrierwallas who have helped us bring fresh food, sometimes still steaming, to our workplaces. “Carrier-wallas” would pick up the lunchboxes from homes and deliver them to the desk of the man at his work place and took back the empty box and deposited back home before evening. In our city then, workplaces would be close enough from homes and one could reach in less than half an hour of cycling. It was a small city.

In the early 60s, both my uncle and father were working in the same campus and so my grandmother would pack and send two sets of lunchboxes in two bags. There was a carrierwalla who was appointed for this job and he served us for many years. He would come to our house around noon on his bicycle after collecting lunch boxes from other customers [usually working in the same place] esp. in the vicinity. I do not remember his name but almost every day my grandmother used to give him a glass of lemon juice or buttermilk esp. on hot summer days. He would gleefully accept it, remove slippers outside, enter the verandah, remove his cap and drink without laying his lips on the glass – a hygienic practice. There were two heavy-duty bags made to order so that it could take the load and shape of the round base of the 3-tier lunchbox and long loops that was enough to hang on the bicycle handle bar. My uncle died in 1967 and this man continued for some time before my father chose to come home for lunch as it was an hour break and just a 10-minute bicycle ride.

Much later when I joined work, after my father’s death, there was one who brought my lunch box to my workplace. He was an elderly man. He served for many years before situations gave way to another man who served until I bought a scooter which is taking me home at lunch time since then. That terminated the services of the carrierwalla to me. It has been about two decades since that happened and I still see the same carrierwalla doing the same tough routine for others who need the services.

Taking 15-20 lunchboxes with food in it on the bicycle is no easy job. It requires stamina and strong legs to pedal the bicycle with all the weight on the handle and behind the saddle. He would push the vehicle in upward gradients, which is a pathetic sight. His hard work would earn him just enough money to sustain himself and his family. The other elderly man I told about was delivering the box to his childhood classmate who was in an important position in the office. Speak about destinies.

I’ll not elaborate on the much renown “Dabbawallas of Mumbai” which is an organized system of carrying lunch boxes from home to work desk and back. It is amazing how they use codes to mark the destinations! Take a look at their website here: http://www.mydabbawala.com/general/aboutdabbawala.htm Wikipedia has this to inform us: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dabbawala

His name is Mahadeva.  Took this picture in 2011, some years I had stopped his service as I was going home for lunch. Posting it in this blog now. 

Binaca Toothpaste Freebies

The hexagonal cap later was replaced with the knurled, conical type.

Freebies have always been offered to attract the public to sell various products. Just like people went to theatres mainly to see a ‘trailer clip’ of a future movie, people bought products for the free item rather than the product itself! Marketers had begun to see how a ‘free tag’ works on human minds. ‘Buy one get one free’ was not certainly thought of for most part of the last century, but free items were offered that were good quality, unlike what we see now – they are real junk, throwaway toys or useless items which are advertised in an attractive manner to which people fall prey, thanks to their kids who are the advertisers’ target!

In the 1960s, we had Binaca Toothpaste. It was a popular brand and most homes had either Colgate or Binaca. But the humble ‘Nanjangud Toothpowder’ was always there… to eat (yes, it was tasty too!) as standby in case the tube was completely squeezed out! Kids loved the Nanjangud flavour and aroma of the pink powder. Toothbrushes too were making its entry fast during that time, with the development of Nylon Bristles that lasted long – products were ‘made to last’, unlike the cheap ‘use and throw’ items that flood the market today. Speaking of Nylon, I still use my grandfather’s shaving brush that he must have purchased in the late 60s. He used it for about 8-10 years and then when it was time for me to shave I began using it almost 30 years ago! The bristles remain amazingly straight in spite of being continuously used [I hang it upside down – that may be a secret!] hundreds of times over. I’ve deviated off subject. Let me come back to the freebies of Binaca.

Despite their roaring market, they probably wanted to stay high and so they introduced a free ‘water picture’ [hope I’m right] with every carton to hold on to customers. They were days when stickers or self-adhesive tapes had not entered. They were ‘gum and gum tape days’. This little piece of paper with a hidden picture had to be soaked in water for a few minutes, then had to be stuck when still wet, to a glass surface and slowly peel off the protective layer. This had to be done with deft hands of an adult lest the delicately thin picture would get damaged! It got stuck when dry. I picture a few here:

They are still looking new even now, as if it was stuck last week. Just as we stand in front of that mirror or go to the bookshelf, the mind jogs back to the era of the ‘light green’ toothpaste and also the immensely popular Wednesday 8 PM show “Binaca Geet Mala”, presented by Ameen Sayani on Radio Ceylon’s ‘Vividh Bharti’.

See this interesting link

Another link on Ameen Sayani and Binaca Geet Mala

Hotels that boasted of radios [not many homes had even a radio in those times] were crowded at that hour, either for business or just standing and listening outside [volume was on a high always – what thrill!]. In our house most of the members of the joint family [I was too young to appreciate that at that time] crowded in front of our Bush Radio at that hour. The product sold well, stopped people’s bad breaths, kept shiny teeth and gave little gifts like those.

Binaca surely held on to customers with its unique ways! Not for nothing it was popular!

Later in the 70s, there came enclosed with each tube of Binaca, tiny plastic figurines of various animals. This soon became a collecting fancy. Friends even exchanged their duplicates for new ones. No sooner the toothpaste carton arrived home or even at the shop counters itself, we would curiously open and see which doll was in!! I must say, they were still the days when recycled plastic was unknown. So these cute little things are of soft virgin plastic.

Binaca could not cope up to stiff competition from other brands in the 80s and even tried to change the name to ‘Cibaca’ to see if they could hold on, but it faded away slowly off the shelves. But on my showcase shelf, I’ve treasured the cute little “Binaca Dolls” to remind me of those good old days.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

In May 2018, I have put up another post on this subject. Have made a proper display box to house these little beauties. I come back to add the link. Go there to see: 

[Click here]

The Browns, my old pals

[Calendar of 1913, gifted by Mr.Brown]

Taking advantage of an absent lecturer in college in 1979 I went to one of the jewelry shops on Ashoka Road, in my quest for some Indian silver coins of the Victorian era. My inquiry for a certain coin at a shop drew the attention of an old Anglo-Indian gentleman who was there for a chat with the proprietor. He asked me what I collected. Soon, after an introductory conversation the old man and I both bicycled down, he on his 'Humber', I on my 'Robin Hood', to his humble “Green Pastures” a few streets away. He had readily agreed to show his coins and stamps and I had time. Common interests! I had struck another friendship with one Krishnappa the previous year, much the same way.

This was Mr. Richard Brown. After serving many years as a Guard in the Railways he had chosen Mysore to settle down for his post-retirement life since the late 60s, probably because there was a Mysore connection – his grandfather was working in the Railways at the turn of the last century! His other passion was poultry birds – a glass showcase displayed his trophies. But his top passion was reading and he followed cricket. Cable TV had made its entry into Green Pastures and so he watched some cricket too. Green Pastures was to become my favourite rendezvous for the next 9 years. Mr.Brown, a widower, lived upstairs. His kind, old widowed sister-in-law lived on the ground floor. She too was a keen stamp-collector. The ‘Browns’ and I soon developed a good rapport.

Our collection of stamps and coins were shown to each other and we even got the pleasure of exchanging our extras. Time made our friendship deeper and there came a time when not visiting the Browns was out of routine! Mr. Brown’s vivid description of fairy-tale-like-real stories were enchanting and seemed to take me back in a time machine. His memory was sharp to detail. He narrated with a twinkle in his eye the happier stories but his face turned pale when he recalled how he missed many opportunities that came his way but let them pass by. He never tired admiring Father Didier and Mrs.Webb, [a social worker in Mysore] for their meticulous stamp albums. He never missed intimating me about the annual fair at St.Bartholomew’s church for the sale of stamps. He used to avail his railway pass to visit his favourite city, Bombay [now Mumbai], where he used to meet an old lady from whom he bought stamps in front of the GPO there. On his last visit he was disappointed not to see that old lady and also his prostrate surgery thereafter prevented him from traveling.

A couple of ‘proverbs’ narrated by him stand out in my memory: “A job well begun is half complete” and “A hobby should be like a loaded cart pulled uphill, without stopping.” I later realized the truth of the latter since I stopped pulling my hobby cart! For stingy people he used to put it nicely as “he was fond of money.”

I offered my help these two old gems by way of repairing things like watches and clocks, which I knew. Mr.Brown had some old watches and clocks. In fact, all things in his simple house were old, antiques to which he used to tell stories how they came to him! Since he did not trust giving the watches outside for servicing, he gave me and was so happy to see them back in fine condition. 65-year old Mrs.Brown used to give me some odd little repair jobs. I had never seen a musical box before and it was thrill to put its simple mechanism back in action. She was delighted when she heard its melody again.

Visiting them on Saturdays had become a routine, after I joined work. The Browns used to give moral support when I lost my father and even today I remember Mrs.Brown’s advice “You are young, put your chest forward, shoulders back and be bold, face it.” During Christmas Mrs.Brown would offer me the special dishes she prepared herself. She was a hockey player in her younger days. She suffered from arthritis. She sometimes showed me those swollen fingers and told how difficult it was to do her daily cooking. She loved plants and she kept a few pots with her and was always willing to share a cutting or a bulb to me. One day, she invited me in saying, “look at the tiger” inside. I wondered what it was. It was a new LPG cylinder that had made its entry into her kitchen and she was so afraid of operating the stove. It took her quite some time to get accustomed and convinced that it was not tiger-like, after all!

At the beginning of our acquaintance she showed me her stamp collection, loosely kept in books, unlike Mr.Brown, who had meticulously stuck to his album pages – Airmail stamps were his fancy. I reckon not many collectors go away while showing their collections to visitors, but she did. When she went in to the kitchen, I pocketed three of her common extras out of sheer temptation, heartbeat crossing 100/min. Stealing was alien to me but was committed. As friendship bonded with passing of time I realized it was a great mistake – the act had been troubling me. I had to return the stolen stamps somehow. One day, I planned to do that. Again, heart pumping heavily in nervousness, I asked her for the collection on the pretext of seeing some stamp. She gave me and would never go in to the kitchen this time! I did not know what to do. After a really long while, spent discussing many things she finally went in to check something on the stove. Without wasting time, I kept them back in her album among other loose stamps. I felt so much relieved after that. I had learnt a big lesson in life.

Some years later, on one of my usual Saturday-visits, as I was climbing the stairs to meet my 78-year-old friend, Mrs.Brown with tears in her eyes, conveyed, “Don’t go, he’s not there!” It shocked me. He had died suddenly the previous Monday. Mrs.Brown was sorrowful and looked quite upset, because they lived in ‘Green Pastures’ in the company of one another for more than 20 years. My visit a couple of weeks later happened to be the last when I met her. She never seemed to have recovered from losing Mr.Brown and that old cheerfulness had gone. She told that she is now dependent on her son’s decision – most likely to be taken with him to the US. I did not know when. Again, one Saturday I went to ‘Green Pastures’ to see what had developed in the past few weeks. But Green Pastures was locked. There was the postman passing by and he told that her son had taken her to the US. He gave me some contact address in Bangalore to which I wrote. But there was no reply. Suddenly she was ‘gone’ too. I never got to know what happened later. I have no pictures of them in print, because there was no camera with me but only in my memory.

My association with these two gems had helped me gain more knowledge, wisdom, confidence in English conversation, inspiration to hobbies and reading. Mr.Brown had got a few coins of Shivaji’s time from a friend while he was serving in Poona (Pune) and he gave me two in exchange for two coins he liked from my extras. These and a calendar of 1913 [pictured above] he gifted are items to remind me of this wonderful old man. I cherish this friendship with the Browns for a long time to come. Again, age was no barrier at all!

 This is very nearly how Mr.Brown looked.  There is so much resemblance in the look of this man and Mr.Brown though Mr.Brown had a brighter and younger look at 73 even towards his end. He too used to spend his time on a reclining chair.  The above picture is of a certain Mr.Foster in the USA.  His daughter Karen and I got acquainted with each other through a garden website post 2009.  Thanks to her for allowing me to copy and use this picture here, the picture was one among the many she shared on facebook and those kept me reminding of that familiar 'Brown look'.  I add it here to remind myself of Mr.Brown.
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My friendship with 'Coin Krishnappa'

It is not easy to sustain hobbies without the element of friendship. It becomes dull without like-minded friends. 

Our college lecturer was absent and so I had made a trip to nearby Sayyaji Rao Road to see if there are any interesting old coins on sale [out of the meager pocket money my father gave] with the pavement coin-seller. I was there standing with my bicycle looking at those old coins spread out on a sheet. I noticed a dhoti-clad bald and old man with a darkish complexion, hands on knees, next to me looking closely at some coin. Since I did not know many who collected coins, I was eager to know if there were any. So I asked. He said “Yes, I have a small collection. Do you also collect?’. I said yes, boasting about the 100 odd coins. My request to see his collection was honoured almost instantly and enthusiastically. He was going home from a short market errand. I went pushing my bicycle beside the walking old man to his nearby old house. His name was Ganjam Krishnappa, son-in-law of Banumaiah. 

Waiting in his living room, admiring the beautifully framed old paintings all over the walls, I was imagining he would bring it in a box, or some bag. But no, he came out of another room with the clinking sound of a key bunch. He went to a wide table that was right next to me, leaned over and lifted hinged table top to expose his ‘small collection’ through the locked glass top! The sight of so many coins, meticulously labeled country-wise, had me awe-struck! It was a unique table-showcase that housed some thousand coins from 200+ countries. And he called that ‘a small collection’, so humbly! I was astonished that he had earnestly sustained his collection for over fifty years.  

Little did I know that he was a renowned numismatist, having one of the best collections in the city. I came to know of this many months later. Further conversation at the time of my leaving revealed that I was the grandson of his family lawyer who had won many cases for them! He was so happy about this coincidence, what with a youngster interested in the hobby. The friendship was to deepen further and was to provide the impetus to our common hobby as well as fatherly affection. He was at least 40 years older than me. Soon, my visits became weekly, or whenever I felt like. 

Krishnappa never commercially put a value to his collection, which he often emphasized and he collected purely for he enjoyment of the hobby. He bought coins, which he fancied without bothering about its ‘future value’. He also had a fancy for paintings and did the same when it came to buying them. Another great quality in him was his joy to show his collection to all those interested, but never exhibited anywhere outside. All these and much more impressed me.

Being his revered lawyer’s grandson, I got special affection. That also gave him much joy. He also showed my grandfather’s picture, which he kept with him! He used to tell me that the last pronote my grandfather wrote a day before his death was for his case.
I was never once sent from his home without any snack, food or drink. Later on, it was the affection that attracted me more than the coins. If I missed visiting for one or two weeks [due to cricket] he would ask me why I did not come. He used to encourage me with his extra coins and even empty album sheets. With the enthusiasm of a child, he would show me new mint releases and tell about new developments in the numismatic world – he was a member of the numismatic society. He would willingly help identify any old coins from his catalogue. One special privilege I had was seeing a couple of rare gold coins, which he showed from his iron safe – this he never did to anyone else.

On one of my usual visits I was shocked to see his daughter’s sad face – he had passed away just a few days before. His month-long fever had never subsided. He left behind his collection that is still preserved by his grandson.

Our friendship lasted just 8-9 years. It ended as abruptly as it began. My interest in numismatics waned off, with his loss, but not the memory of this simple, kind-hearted man. The generation gap was no matter at all.

Some links relevant to the hobby of coin-collecting:
http://www.rbi.org.in/currency/museum/c-ancient.html
http://www.indiancurrency.net/index.html

My best and squarest meal

Many of us would have enjoyed one particular unforgettable meal at one point of time or other. Mine 'happened' in 1999. In fact, I had won that meal! Connect cricket to a meal. Let me share how that happened.

Our office team, had won the final of a cricket tournament in a thrilling last ball finish. It was an unbeaten 48 from my blade that had secured victory. I was taking strike with 3 runs required to win from the last ball. The connection of bat to ball was so-so and we could manage only two. Two unforgettable runs! It was a tie. We won because we had lost lesser wickets. My partner Ravi perhaps ran the fastest two runs of his life and even now wonders how he completed them comfortably, at full stretch and landing on his tummy!

My innings won the 'man of the match' prize that included a little trophy and something surprising to go with it. It was a letter from the sponsor, a popular 3-star hotel, offering a free lunch for two. It was a rare offer! A fortnight later I went to the hotel with my family consisting of my wife and our two young kids. My request about the kids' inclusion was happily agreed by the manager when I showed that prize-letter. Thanking him, we settled down at a table. A buffet system was waiting for us. It was a Sunday and surprisingly, the other tables were bereft of customers.

The number of food items completely left me awe struck! I did not know where to begin. Once I began, there was no end... or so it seemed, much like that innings! The number of trips I made to the serving table became my family's teasing topic for some days. But I never cared. For, the gastronomer in me was on song, hitting boundary after boundary!

I fail to recall the name of the cuisine on the label. It was not the south Indian, pictured above. This was verily different. Each recipe had its special taste that tickled the buds. They say the freebies tickle more, but I disagree. IT WAS REALLY, REALLY DELICIOUS! Caught in utter vegetarian delight, we forgot to count the number of recipes - there must have been more than twenty. What salads, what ice creams, what curries, what desserts, what what what.... sorry, I cannot remember all names on those individual labels either, because I was engrossed in encouraging a fight between the hand and the mouth.

I never had dreamt that it was going to be such a magnificent meal, one that would also be the squarest to be remembered for long.

My family enjoyed as much as I did. The young kids' relished those variety ice creams, which they recall fondly, but suddenly remember my trips to the serving table! Happy memories and enjoyment of relishing the 'prize' still lingers on even after many years. It was a unique prize that is remembered more than the little trophy [read link below]. My innings on the dining table was comparable to that on the field! I had remained not out, there, but here at the table, I had to declare the innings closed!

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Read here, http://mymiscelany.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-we-pose-for-pictures.html how I received the prize from the chief guest and about people posing for cameras - a brief note.