SUNAAD RAGHURAM writes: Reading Mohan in ‘Bricks and Bouquets’, took me back in time when I was a schoolboy myself.
In Saraswathipuram.
A suburb with a fine mix of intellectualism (a whole bunch of Mysore University’s professors lived there) and rusticity (good old KGK, short for Kanne Gowdana Koppal, being next door).
The annual Ramotsava celebrations in our own version of Shivaji Park, the Tengina Topu, situated between the 3rd and 4th main roads. Where we vigorously played Ais Pais (Hide and Seek) navigating between the groups of men and women who would settle down to listen to heady carnatic music or a flute recital or a harikathe, in the evenings, on the grassy knolls between the coconut trees, some of which grew at amusingly weird angles.
My childhood mate Jayachandra, a funny character, who could whistle with all his ten fingers underneath his tongue in one go or completely separately if needed. His hair-rising stunts on his Raleigh cycle, which he would accelerate almost half way up a particular coconut tree in our topu that had grown in an expansively wide arc, lending it a strange curvature.
And cricket.
On the streets.
In the fields.
The famous Balu team that played in a ground close to the 9th and 10th main roads. Getting into that team being somewhat like hoping to play in the West Indies team of the ‘70s under Clive Lloyd!
Gawky youngsters watching the games in progress, cheering lustily at the fall of a wicket; invariably clean bowled. With a wisp of red dust rising from underneath the middle stump.
Churumuri with a dash of lime; Venkatappan ice candy–‘inswalpa cream hakanna’–two cone sizes, 10 paisa and 15 paise; Mariyammana ‘batani’; coated in cheap, hideous red. The tiny explosions inside the mouth as we carefully manoeuvred the hard little bombs between our still adolescent molars.
Saraswathipuram!!!
Home to one of the greatest actors of the Kannada screen, K.S. Ashwath. Walking down the main road, wearing a fancy lungi, jubba and a pair of canvas slip-ons, he would make an imposing picture. Stern faced; brisk striding; slightly cold; with a hint of aloofness; he was a standard ‘puram’ sight.
And ‘coffee pudi’ Vasu!
Vasu, the owner of a famous coffee pudi angadi near Mr. Ashwath’s house. Portly, short and pot-bellied. Always in a tight T-shirt that accentuated the immensity of his girth.
Vasu, seller of Ganesha idols besides coffee powder–one of which, a massive, multi-coloured creation with the tiny ili in attendance, adorning his own angadi for ever, beside the vibhuti-smeared grinding machine.
Vasu. A passionate lover of cricket; a love often metamorphosing into fanaticism. Terribly concerned about the Indian team’s fortunes; always adoringly happy with the performances of B.S. Chandrashekar, E.A.S. Prasanna and G.R. Vishwanath.
Cricket as it was played in the ‘70s. No television. All India Radio commentaries. Waking up at 4 in the morning. Tuning into the transistor. A palpable flow of adrenaline; the right hand turning into a tiny fist which pumped the air as I heard Surinder Amarnath get a hundred on debut against New Zealand. My father seated on the ground and shaving. In front of a mirror with a teak wood base—a family heirloom—gifted to him by his sister on the day of his wedding, circa 1964.
Cut to ‘coffee pudi’ Vasu again.
A little after 1975 or thereabouts. My humourously whacky childhood mate, the humongously built Sampatha, he of the bison-like frame and the heart of a baby, asking Vasu what he felt about one of G.R. Vishwanath’s rare, cheap dismissals: ‘What do you think would have happened in the dressing room after Vishwanath got out and returned to the pavilion?’
Vasu listened. Intently.
He closed his eyes ponderously. A while later he opened them again. They looked grim. And angry.
And suddenly he yelled, ‘ Boli makkla, neev aadi iga. Aadi neevu. Naan adadnalla Madrasnalli. Neev adudra? Adudra neevu…’
Vasu’s right fore finger was pointing directly between the two of us, Sampatha and me.
We were transfixed.
Vasu was alluding to the innings of 97 not out by Vishwanath against the mighty West Indies in the Madras test of 1975, which even to this day, is hailed as one of the most courageous rearguard acts on a cricket field by an Indian.
Vasu was doing mimicry. Of G.R. Vishwanath’s assumed diatribe against his team mates in the dressing room even as was unfastening his pads!!
Those were the days, eh. Oh, how I love to ramble on and on. About Saraswathipuram and….
I sink into the beanbag on the balcony of my flat; the noise of traffic below dims for a moment as I play an old Jagjit Singh ghazal in my mind: ‘Lauta de mere bachpana…’
This is a wonderful writing. Whoever has written, they forced me back to my days in Mysore and certainly i started thinking about my “balya” with tear filled eyes.
Sunaad, wish i had the time to add my stories on cricket ‘pencil’ matches and Ball Badminton (which was the most popular sport of our childhood in S. Puram) tournaments, fights with friends and foes and of course, stories of such prototypical characters like Gonne, Benne or Lodde, who existed in every circle. An oral history of S. Puram would be a worthy goal for churumuri to aim for. well, KP, hope the suggestion isn’t too academic.
Sunaad, Its nice to relish our childhood in S S Puram, Katte Days, Cricket and other games which we do not see kids playing anymore like Goli, Chinni Dandu, Buguri(Current version is Bay Blade, I came to know about this because of my two little sons), Tikki (With empty cigarette packs of which Passion show had a top value in our game and later we realised it costs peanuts) and a lot more. Oh Man, it was nice, we all wish to be back into that world isn’t it
Prem Panicker writes from New York City: Thanks, chief — this guy is so damned good, I wish he would write every day… multiple times…
Hemant Kenkre writes from Bombay: great reading! :)
Nice write-up Sunaad! I hope I haven’t set off churumuri on a nostalgic trip, but then a little bit of nostalgia doesn’t hurt once in a while…
Balu’s cricket team at 10th main playground – for us kids just standing by and watching them play was an experience. Adishesha’s fearsome pace bowling, their jokes, their harate, if a college girl happened to pass by on the road next to the ground deliberately hitting the ball in that direction, …
There was something idyllic about Saraswathipuram.
Mohan
This is one of the ‘Sakath’ wonderful writings. Sarsawathipuram roads do brings back lot of memories. When returning from school, desprately waiting for the city buses.Really run a race when the buses never stops seeing at the huge folks wearing uniforms. With a bulk school bags, we used to chase behind the buses .. Get all gaalis from the bus conductor…
On saturdays, buy some churmuri’s , baTaani from the roadside sellers near the JSS school.. more & lot more….
Sunaad, This is really ‘bumbat’ and ‘Chindi Writing. Its lovly to recap our childhood in Saraswthipuram and also remeber’s me Radhakrishna’s Race Course Words at Shivanna’s Shop 4th Main and Sreekantha’s comments on Cricket Match at Vasu Shop. Now a days its very hard to see kids playing Lagoori , Ram Chandu Beem Chandu, Bugoori, etc.
hey Buddy, it was nice, Keep Writing
Santosh
Sakath Write-up Sunaad,Keep writing.It is nice to relish about the galli we know.
Nice article, I am sure each one of us who are in our 40’s am sure will have a similar kind of a story, be it saraswathipuram, lakshmipuram, chamarajapuram, agrahara or subbaryana kere.
Sunaad …great stuff. Your article brought back wonderful memories of Saraswathipuram. I still remember those days when we guys from 5th main and 6th main and from all over saraswathipuram used to play cricket in ‘rammandira’ and then go to dharwad bakery for a rasna.We used to be regulars in ‘rammandira’ in the evenings on week days and in the mornings and evenings on weekends.
Santhosh Kumar(Giri) , I think you are the same Giri that I’m thinking you are. Naan yaaru gothaitha?
Hey Natty,
Your name rings a bell. But can’t yet figure you out as you are in flesh and blood. Do write back and fix a rendezvous!
We should meet.For old times sake!
Natti gothu aayithu NIE mate right
Shankar Vedantam writes from Washington, D.C.: This is wonderfully evocative writing…
Sunaad,
Yes , we have to meet . I’m not sure how soon it can be as I now live in
Winston Salem , North Carolina . I will definitely make it a point to mail
you before I leave to Mysore next time . I hope it’s soon.
Natty.
Santhosh,
Yes. It’s your good old NIE mate. Mail me at nattyyl at yahoo dot com
whenever you get a chance.
natty.
Hi Natty and lodde (giri) how are u guys?,
Great article sunad hope u also remember me
Dinesh
I guess this is Dinu (NIE , SSC) . Elliddiya ? Mail haako – nattyyl at yahoo.com
Sunaad,
I hope you remember Me Aravind. My Cousin Ramesh and Myself would come to your house when we were young in S. Puram 4th Main Road next to Prabhakar’s house. We use to build a place for Ganesha Habba next to the Garage and your Father would also help us. I remember once your Father, Mother and Your Grandmother all of us went to a Ashram near Chamundi Hills.
I hope you get this E-mail and respond back at arvinds@hotmail.com
Thanks
Aravind
We stayed in the same building behing Vasu’s coffee shop. All the nostalgic memory comes back. That Vaman’s tailor shop, a watch shop next to Vasu’s coffee pudi shop, cycle shop, still fresh in my memory. I stayed there from 1978 to 1985 before moving to another house. It is was funny that the owner of the building used to quarrel with Vasu, Vaman and others about rent and vacating. Many times Aswath used to come for a chat, and we used to listen to his film stories.
In Saraswatipuram fire service office there used to be a old Japanese jet bomber of the second war. Is it still there?
@dharma
Do u mean Japanese person or machine?
Swamy,
I had been to Mysore. I used to live in 3rd cross b/w Kantharaj Urs Rd and JSS School. The Vaman Tailors is still there.Vaman and Mr Murthy of the 2nd hand book shop, The watch repair are still there probably owned by someone else.
@ Dr Sree Reddy,
Yes I had seen the Japanese jet bomber. This is no longer in the Fire Brigade.Also I heard that the same is within the SJCE Campus. I’m not sure.
I spent my childhood in another puram – Vidyaranyapuram. My memories, experience are almost same. How I wish I could travel back in a time machine! … Wonderful piece of writing Mr. Sunad.
I was at Vidyaranyapuram for 3 yrs. Great writing. Memories at 4th main 5th cross. Can’t forget Prabha auntie , Jaya, milk dairy next to our house, mallige huwu, Christ the King convent. Hope somebody I know replies back and I get a chance to be back to Mysore.
Hi Saraswathipuram ites,
Is there anybody who is in touch with Mohan ( brother of Tanuja and Girija)? I am trying to reach my childhood friend. I can be reached at ar_chitra@yahoo.com
Thanks in advance
Regards
Chitra A.R
Hi, saraswathipuram,
I have studied in J.S.S. high school in the year 1984-1986 & p.u.c & Degree @ J.S.S. women’s college, saraswathipuram from 1991-1992 (B.Com), I can’t forget the churmuri, Mango, guava & friday leisure period parties at the 10th main park. I can’t forget the post office, My close friends in degree are padma, suma, hemalatha, usha nandini ( i think now she is in pandicherry), annapurna, veena, vanajakshi, vanitha, veena M.B. geetha, hemavathi B.G. kavitha, choodamani, Asha, in high school sowbhagya, kamakshi, sunitha, ………… If any one of them still remember me do mail me.
Thanks in advance,
Regards,
K.N.Rekha….