Childhood Deepavali memories

After Dasara holidays it was Deepavali which we eagerly looked forward to when we were young, in the 1960s and early 70s. It was not solely for the chance to buy and enjoy fireworks, but it really meant a festive atmosphere everywhere. Such was the spirit.

It would begin with buying cloth lengths [cotton only] for all the male members in the family. For me and brother it was for a set of shirt and half pants to be stitched at Tailor Narayana Rao’s shop close to our house. Ready-mades were less preferred, though some shops sold them.
Then it was the purchase of fireworks with our grandfather. Our loudest sounding item was ‘elephant cracker’ with that Red Fort picture on the packet, which exploded with a tolerable sound and there was an odd one that fizzed too, much to our delight! We used to buy just a couple of chains of these but a lot more of those cheap ‘horse crackers’. These were much smaller. Some adventurous boys used to burst them holding in their fingers, while it was concealed into cigarette to explode at the lips – the seniors played this mischievous fun trick. So feeble were these. All crackers in the chain were separated to increase the number instead of burning chains at one go, so that we will have ‘more’ time to spend!

‘Atom bombs’ [now banned, but still manufactured and sold] were not much popular, though ‘Lakshmi cracker’ and ‘China chuvva’ [close equivalents] were bought by us in very small numbers as we grew older – a sense of promotion! But since I have always hated big noise, this was not an item on the list. But we enjoyed it from distant somewhere that reverberated in the city skies. Skies were so silent then, esp. before dawn, except for the disturbed crows and house sparrows [now gone from the region]. I was actually afraid to burst a cracker myself or being close to it!

For the two of us, the expense would be hardly twenty five or thirty rupees at the most. Compare it to the thousands that people spend now! We just bought a few crackers, some sparklers, match sticks, incense sticks [for igniting fireworks], flower pots, threadlike sparklers and ‘ground-wheels’. No rockets and other dangerous things. It was also a common thing to ask others ‘for how many rupees did you buy fireworks?’

The ladies of the house would clean all the copper vessels in the bath and fill with fresh water [24-hour supply then] the previous evening. Mother would exhibit her talent with rice-flour rangoli in front of the house – a beautiful pattern would be drawn. [See my 'crafts in the family' post in this blog - picture]. We were woken up at 4 a.m the next day for oil bath. Already, some cracker noise would be heard at a distance, envious we were not ‘first’ to burst. People were ready with all the enthusiasm to celebrate the festival. Special dishes for lunch, new clothes would be worn and fireworks played.

Boys were curious to know what other boys would burst. It was fun. People did not make much of a show by exchanging greetings for the festival like now. We have come to a state when we wish others on any day –‘Happy Independence day' or 'Happy Ganesh Festival' for example! I don’t remember they did that in the 1970s! Patriotism existed in greater spirit, than now, in spite of not greeting the fellow citizen!

Then, it was less people, less noise. The festival did not have a nuisance value generally. The sky did not choke. Now it chokes. More people, more show, more noise, more poison smoke, more of all the negatives! The festival-enjoyers show least concern to other neighbours or passers-by. The Police stipulate the time for bursting crackers. Yet, nobody listens or heeds to rules showing utter disregard to others in society. Bombs go up at anytime of the day or night with shocking intensity. Smoke fills the air and settles like fog, creating breathing problem esp. to the sensitive. Stars cannot be seen during the festival nights. Also, many accidents take place due to carelessness. It can be very painful. My young brother had burnt his fingers playing with ‘fire’. Accidents should not teach us, we should be forewarned.

There was one fire accident at a house on our Devaparthiva Road. We had been to the Dasara Exhibition [old building] in 1970 or so. By the time we returned home [by walk], we saw people gathered and fire engines standing. On one of the houses, hay was stacked [they owned a couple of cows] on the terrace and a rocket had started a fire. Luckily only a part of the house was gutted. We saw how the firemen worked for the first time.

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Scientifically, they say that this festival of lights, Deepavali, is timed when insects are more after the monsoon rains. So this smoke, only when emanated in moderation, helps control the insects. But we are overdoing it to an extent of causing concern to human comfort and environmental pollution, leave alone the insects. It confuses birds and animals as well. Look at the amount of rockets and other colourful fireworks and the amount of poisonous smoke they leave behind.

Are we not harming our own environment in our own little ways? That is not what the previous generation left behind for us. At least now that it is being pointed scientifically the exact reasons for various climatic changes, let us be warned and act wisely. And leave behind, not smoke, but a better environment for the next generation to live in.

NOSTALGIC RUN OF A MYSOREAN MIND

NOSTALGIC RUN OF A MYSOREAN MIND

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. So went a proverb.

Traditional games from gulli-danda to popular cricket were all enjoyed by children of the previous generation which belonged to the pre-Idiot box era. I refer to the 1960s and 70s. I grew up in an old house on Devaparthiva Road in Chamarajapuram, a locality named after the late King Chamarajendra Wadiyar. It was a locality that was planned as part of the Mysore City's expansion during the last decade of the 19th century.

The middle of the road and footpath was a virtual playground every evening, every holiday. Calling children back home was a headache for the parents! On holidays, they had to search the entire neighbourhood if they wanted their kids home!

The variety of games played on the streets and footpaths (no weeds in those times) was such that each season had a new attraction: summer, it was gulli-danda and marbles outdoors, indoors it was either chowka-baara, kavade, pagade, halagulimane, or any board games; festival season, it was playing tops; some houses had playing cards and we used to play many games with it among chess, draughts, snake and ladder, money-trade, etc. The neighborhood boys and girls joined the fun. “I spy you” was extremely popular as it needed only hiding space and no equipment. Traditional games had been designed to make the body healthy and the mind clean. The e-games of today gives only artificial thrill.

You may ask what about birthday parties….. in fact, they were not heard of! Those kids having their birthdays would bring in a (traditional) sweet or two (prepared at home) and share it among friends! It was such a peaceful event that helped good wishes to actually reach the kid! Look at it now – what a nuisance it creates! Cutting cakes, throwing shining powder (which also settles on edibles, thermocole balls, balloons, aluminium foils and finally noise from the “sound blaster” playing what they call “music”, under which the purpose is forgotten!! "How did you celebrate your birthday?", they would ask!

Hotels were few and mostly they had their own typical flavour and popularity. Ballal Hotel was once famous for its Masala Dosa and the Radio. Meenakshi Bhavan was more famous for its Radio than its dishes – Binaca Geet Mala was popular Amin Sayani presentation which people who did not have radios at home thronged here. Food sales and Radio seemed to have a link!

My grandfather joked when we asked for ice cream, "Okay, you scream."! There was no paani-poori, gobi manchoori or churmuri. But the Jamoon, Masala Dosa and coffee provided a satisfying kick. Raju's hotel near Old Agrahara was a popular joint where either my dosa-loving father took us occasionally or when an uncle visited from Bangalore.

Minds were comparatively unpolluted until the movie-world stripped off decency. Watching films in theatres was always with a family. Movies of yore (in toto) had a team of intellects. It's the opposite now. Movies had a theme, good meaningful script spiced with beautiful proverbs; they had sequences that touched emotions, but there were decent comedians in scenes to provide a good laughter when the scene got emotional or serious and they had suspense. We would sit attentively even for the Radio Soundtrack broadcast at 2.30 pm on Sundays! Children of today cannot imagine that. We have videos of everything at the click of a button!

A telephone and a wrist-watch were luxuries with scooters or motorcycles coming in next. Car-owners were even sparse. Power-failure was rarely heard. It was difficult to make the hose pipe to the tap stay on while watering plants - it used to flow with such explosive power! It was not in the thoughts to build tank to store water in emergencies – they were only for convenience. Water flow was generally 24x7 in most parts of the city. Overhead tanks were nowhere seen because there were no sumps or pumps! The entire city depended on dependable direct supply! If any water-stoppage happened, it was news! Now, it is announced in the press when it trickles in the pipes! Plastic was not recycled. We still have some 40-yr old materials still in use! Now we get dirty recycled plastic that gets brittle and breaks off from just a few years use.

Do you know that before the end of the 19th century, water was supplied from the Kukkarahalli Lake? I have a letter of an ancestor mentioning it.

The glare from the sun was not piercing like now. Except in the hot months, exposure to sun never scorched. Now even in winter months we have to bring the eyebrows closer to adjust to the glare. Onions were so pungent that it made all people 'weep'. Now hardly anybody “cries” –they cry or rather crave for junk food! Pizzas, Gobis and whatnot. “Chats” and Dhabas came from the North many years later. Rice was tasty – as it was also cooked over charcoal and in bronze vessels when pressure cookers had not made its impact. Rice of today goes under the trend “whiter the better”! Whites are dangerous they have come to know - White rice, maida flour, salt, sugar. Dining tables were taboo. Squatting was commonly practiced – for they knew no other method! Healthy practices were in vogue.

People had no joint pains and there was need only for the Family Physicians. Now we have 'specialists' for every part and even side of the body's organs!! You name it! Visiting family physicians was only after home remedies failed to give expected results and also without prior appointments. Sometimes the physician himself visited, because he usually happened to be a family friend who gave the healing touch, now unheard of! Now we run to a specialist for every cough and sneeze. The ‘compounder’ at the pharmacy mixing the colourful liquids that were taken home in bottles was a common sight. Medical stores were far and few. There was a doctor in the famous Krishnarajendra Hospital in the 1960s. He was supposed to be the most knowledgeable (in public view) doctor in that hospital and went by the nickname “Dodda Doctru” (of short stature, ironically!). I remember his name as Dr.A.K.Gopalarajan.

At night, it was common to offer food to those who came asking "Bhavati bhikshaamdehi" (in Sanskrit, "O Mother, give us some food"). They were usually poor Brahmin boys or men who came calling that in Sanskrit standing at the gate. A few visited often and there was genuine disappointment when there was nothing to offer on any night. It was also a tradition that they should visit houses only after the normal dinner time.

Some families also had the noble tradition of "Vaaraanna" ವಾರಾನ್ನ (weekly food). One poor college student used to visit us for dinner every set weekday during the mid sixties. Some people from the poor section of the society also came for alms during the morning hours. On Saturdays, "Daasayya" came for alms by blowing the conch and striking that flat bronze plate with a stout wooden stick to produce a nice vibration. A coin or a handful of rice was offered to him, which was gleefully accepted.

There were no food considered as 'junk' in those days. The bakeries attracted customers with colourful icing on cakes and flavoury biscuits and chips. Bread was brought home only when someone had fever! It was common to ask "who has been unwell?" at the bakery counter if we encountered a known person! There was no rush in bakeries nor hundreds of items! Just a few cookies, bun, bread. Bakers diversified when they thought customers needed more than bakery items.

There was a time when a game using cigarette packs was popular among street boys. How I wished someone at home smoked at that time!! As such, to me, availability of empty cigarette packs for this game was very scarce. So I and another boy used to roam the conservancies (a gully where dirt and garbage was thrown out of house and from where the scavengers entered through the back door to clean the night soil in the lavatory -- they have now become roads!) in search of the thrown packs, much to the chagrin of my elders! It was considered an unhygeinic place. Folded packs used to be piled up by the boys to be hit with a flat stone and out of the ring. He who hits the packs out of that ring, kept them. There was one "Iyenger Shop" next door, selling provisions, cigarettes, beedies and such. So once I was there and found a cigarette pack on the floor. I silently picked it up and went home happy to have found one for my game. But I felt something inside. It was a full pack with cigarettes that had accidentally fallen. I was too afraid to return it. So I threw out all of them into a hole in the ground and covered with soil to escape being noticed. I kept the empty pack - I think it was "Scissors" brand. That game was called "Tikki".