Pictured above is the Mysore Palace, 1930.
I'M A MYSOREAN!
I'M A MYSOREAN!
In one of his articles in the local daily, STAR OF MYSORE [some years back], Mr.T.S.Nagarajan, wrote a few things: "Don't ever underestimate the Mysorean, who generally appears contemplative and self-effacing. You will take some time to realize his wit and wisdom, which unfolds slowly and unobtrusively - majjigeyolagina benneyanthe - like butter emerges from buttermilk. There is an unintended artistic expression by the people even in seemingly ordinary matters.
"To the Mysorean, coffee is booze. He is very particular about its quality. The test of good coffee is that the guest sitting in the hall should savour its elevating aroma from the kitchen, ahead of the housewife walking up to him with a cupful. Talking about cofee is also a convenient opening gambit for most casual chats, don't be amused if instead of saying 'good evening' to you when you meet an acquaintance on the road, he says "coffee aayithe?", meaning "have you had your coffee?". It does not matter evenif you have just had your dinner!" I liked the way he has beautifully pictured some of the characterestics.
"To the Mysorean, coffee is booze. He is very particular about its quality. The test of good coffee is that the guest sitting in the hall should savour its elevating aroma from the kitchen, ahead of the housewife walking up to him with a cupful. Talking about cofee is also a convenient opening gambit for most casual chats, don't be amused if instead of saying 'good evening' to you when you meet an acquaintance on the road, he says "coffee aayithe?", meaning "have you had your coffee?". It does not matter evenif you have just had your dinner!" I liked the way he has beautifully pictured some of the characterestics.
[Mr.Nagarajan is the brother of the world-famous photo-journalist, TS Satyan.]
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My mind runs a bit on 14.12.2007:
Just as we find ourselves grumbling about this and that, HSK brings out many points and locations and compares it with the past. I have to agree that Mysore WAS a livable city, not IS. The Commissioner can do wonders only if the public, at the individual level can cooperate with him. But then, with our "who cares" attitude, the efforts will make no impression. When are we beginning to think that spitting on the road, easing ourselves to compound walls, throwing rubbish into the open areas, lighting matches to plastic and other harmful waste, mixing kerosene to petrol, dirtying the public places, taking dogs for 'excretory walks', leaving cattle to the streets to graze, honking of automobile horns, cutting avenue trees, drilling holes in the earth for water....... is bad for the city's health from every angle? Mainly it could be the utter careless and selfish attitudes of the public and also the influence of many villages in Mysore's vicinity, the reasons thwarting healthy progress.
If a genuinely strong rule is enforced in public interest, that is thwarted by the one with a vested interest through a phone call, or even a visit to the Commissioner!! With such interferences, the city will be like a bull in the mill.
Mysore IS now just a name no longer synonymous of its old and famous tags. It's just growing, growing fast, into just another modern city with more problems than peace, thanks to various negating factors that seem to have been eating up all the goodies Mysore is renown for.
Here's HSK's article:
LET US MAKE MYSORE A LIVABLE CITY
[Star of Mysore, 14.12.2007]
"HSK's Moving Finger"
The question is — 'Is it ? or will it become one ?'
Mysore is not a livable city today. Anyone who says so will be under an illusion. It was, once upon a time, a livable city and also a lovable city. It was during the days of the Maharajas.
If Bangalore was deemed to be a commercial and industrial city, Mysore was considered as a cultural city. One of the greatest cultural pageants of the city was the Dasara. The city which was a sleeping beauty would suddenly wake up to the beating of drums and the tingling sou-nd of bells tied to the necks of majestic elephants.
Dasara crowd
It was not the practice then to bring the elephants (tamed, of course) from the forest and hurriedly parade them in the streets to get them accustomed to the din and buzzle of the city and the Dasara crowds. 'Ane Karuhatti' or the 'Abode of elephants' was on the spot where the JSS institutions today stand. The building on the Shivarathri Rajendra Circle was Hasuvina Karuhatti or the place where the Palace cows were kept. There was a separate accommodation for horses.
Dasara durbar was a beautiful function which even Gods would love to witness. The procession was a feast for the eyes. All that pomp and pageantry have disappeared and today Dasara is a pale and lifeless imitation of those celebrations.
Soon after Dasara the representative Assembly of the State was being held at Jaganmohan Palace. The University convocation would follow. In addition to these, a number of celebrations, social and religious, were attracting huge crowds.
The powers that be did not fail to attend to civic amenities. The water supply system as well as the underground drainage was ideal. It is said that when rains failed and the city had to face the ordeal of water shortage, the Kukkarahalli tank, which is now a part of the Mysore University, was constructed. It was a beautiful lake then and far more expansive than it is today. Many daring swimmers were swimming in the tank from one shore to the other shore at the opposite end and return swimming. Today the tank is half dead and half alive.
Another beautiful lake was Doddakere — the spot where the exhibition is being held now. In those days — just about seven decades back — the waters of the tank extended from the front gate of the Palace fort to almost the foot of the Chamundi Hill. The space between Doddakere and the hill was occupied by another tank called Gobbalikere. The Doddakere was dried up because of the fear of Malaria. The smaller tank also almost perished. In those days the illuminated Palace and Chamundi Hill would be reflected on the placid waters of the tank. It was so beautiful that many drama companies of those days had the main curtain of the theatre painted with that scene.
The Karanjikere, as the name itself suggests was another bea-utiful water body. The Karanji tank also was facing the threat of extinction. Thank God ! It is revived. The Dali Avenue Thandi Sadak was a beautiful road by the side of the Karanji tank. It was like a tunnel, covered by creepers grown on either side of the road. It looked like a very long pendal from one end of the road to the other end. Alas, it is today encroached by the Zoo. The public who used to walk along the cool grove in the evening are deprived of that pleasure. It looks rather drab in the Zoo.
Drab environment
Lalitha Mahal Palace today looks very pale. All its majesty is lost because of the drab environment around it. The Lalithadri on the Chamundi Hill is only a name today. Our poet Kuvempu has written a beautiful poem eulogising it. Nobody seems to be interested in reviving it.
The Rajendra Vilas Palace on the top of the Chamundi Hill was later converted into a hotel. It lost all its glory. At the Central Hall of the Palace, huge mirrors of the size of the walls were erected close to the walls on all the four sides and if you happened to enter it upwards, you would be flabbergasted by the innumerable images (infinity) of yours reflected by the mirrors on all the four sides. Perhaps those mirrors are no longer there !
The roads of the city were broad (from the standard of those days) with footpaths on both sides. They were well maintained. The dome lights adorned the roads and at night they looked like myriad stars descended to earth to praise the glory of the city.
The parks have shrunk. They are filthy. In the evenings, the citizens used to flock them for recreation. The Palace Band (later the Government band) used to play songs once a week in the evening. The band stand and garage were two beautiful constructions. They are gone.
Ideal road
The Mirza Road was an ideal road which served as a rendezvous for evening strolls. But alas! It looks today like a beautiful damsel cruelly raped and bruised by a bastard. The Hardinge Circle with a thrilling fountain surrounded by ornamental flower plants is today drab and lifeless, with vehicles ceaselessly plying along the labyrinth of roads.
The Krishnarajendra Circle, which is said to be built like the Connaught Circle of Delhi, is a poor imitation. The planners had no aesthetic sense. The erstwhile circle with a fountain called Elgin Fountain, and a statue erected on a high pedestal and greenery all round was one of the most beautiful spots of the city.
The city is full of filth and dust. Eateries have encroached every available spaces, especially footpaths. The customers throw away the papers and render the whole area quite dirty. Sweeping the roads at least once a week is a rarity. Building construction is going on unabated and the small water bodies are occupied by buildings, causing the drying up of the source of underground water. Who cares ? The several tanks surrounding the city are slowly dying.
Natural environment is disappearing. Pollution levels are high. The Chamundi Hill also may disappear some day. The city fathers fail to plan for the next 25 years or more. They are thoughtless.
Can you revive the city to its previous pristine beauty and make it a real livable city, Mr. Manivannan ?
- HSK
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I link below some interesting information about old Mysore.
Prof.AV Narasimhamurthy recounts 100-ft. Road.
3 comments:
Mysore Specials:
Mysore cannot be experienced in holidays or weekends. Like a creeper growing and encircling the staff, you have to live and grow with Mysore to experience it.
You have to be with the ajjis who have seen you from the time you were small, where the maid who works in your house is your "family maid", your ajji had "recruited" her mother.
When you go on an evening walk, and the poojari of the Devasthaana, stops and chats with you, and moves on saying there is a pooja at 5 next morning, that's Mysore for you.
When you walk a little ahead and the librarian says he has the latest copy of "Kasturi" or "Mayura". (not now of course!)
When the milkman sees you on a walk, and delivers an extra half litre without being asked. (he has stopped giving free, only "kosru")
Mysore is(was) when you board a bus at the bus-stand and conductor gives you a ticket without asking.
Mysore is (was -- where are trees?) when you collect little red 'gulganji' seeds on your way back home from KukkarahaLLi lake.
Mysore is when you come by the Tippu express, and you find someone going in your direction to drop you off. Everyone is in a hurry now!
Mysore is when elephants are marched in from the forests for Dasara.
Mysore is when you wait for your copy of eveninger "Star of Mysore".
Mysore is when the English movies are only at Rajkamal or Sterling . Mysore is when you look for your KEB uncle to book tickets at Woodlands. (who was that?)
Mysore when SSLC results are announced at MARIMALLAPPAS.
Mysore is the eternal venue of SJCE-NIE rivalry.
Mysore is when you got your project report bound at Venkateshwara Binders in Saraswatipuram.
Mysore is buying vegetables at Agrahara, buying plantain leaves in NanjumaLige, savoring the aroma of the agarbatti factory behind or eating ice-creams at Penguin. Phalaamruta in Landsdowne Building??
Mysore is (WAS) eating dosa at Mylari Hotel.
Mysore is drinking sugarcane juice near kukkarahaLLi lake or eating Southekai on pushcarts or munching corn-on-the-cob in the palace foreground.
Mysore before GRS, before the underbridge in front of Saraswatipuram Fire Brigade, before Infosys, before Ring-Road.
Those who grew up in that Mysore, will relate to me more than those who came to Mysore than those, who think Mysore is a good place to invest. Than those, who think chilling out in Mysore is just CCD or Pizza Corner.
(a fellow-Mysorean's views)
Super mysorians are very rare these days. It was a day or two ago when I came across a super mysorian who was living in Lakshmipuram. His description of his younger days just took me and my family into the past with such sweet memories, I am yet to come out of it.
But Will it be the same Mysore for our children?
Pranav:
The original Mysore is already gone. Ask anyone who has been in Mysore for at least 30 years back from now. There may be hardly a few left who can call themselves with pride "I'm a Mysorean!" That old ambience got eaten away by the notorious virus called "development".
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