People have been queueing up at ATMs over the past fortnight. Often, the scene is reminiscent of the community bonding that was once seen in Bengaluru’s parks or, in its tone and tenor, resembles the politicking and debates of gram panchayat meetings held under banyan trees.
ATM pe Charcha was replete with discussions on economics, strategies and even candour about one’s finances. It was no more improper to ask one: “How much did you withdraw?”
It was no more improper to reveal the currencies in one’s wallet — for, often, it elicited sympathy. And more-often-than-not, persons withdrawing will announce to the long queue the denominations the ATM gives out, the right amount to input in the machine, and even what cards the machines accept.
When Chowdiah awed Balamuralikrishna
In 1980, the iconic violin-shaped Chowdiah Memorial Hall opened to Bengalureans, and the person chosen to perform was the legendary Balamuralikrishna.
A day after the maestro’s death, Subbaraj Urs, secretary, Academy of Music, Chowdiah Memorial Hall, says BMK’s impromptu song lit up the proceedings.
“Overwhelmed to see the violin-shaped building, Balamuralikrishna, a recipient of the Chowdiah National Award, instantly composed ‘Chowdiah navara Nenapinalli, (K.K.) Murthy kattida Bhavani nalli’ (In the name of Chowdiah, in the building constructed by Murthy...). The melody flowed perfectly. The song was dedicated to the violin man of Karnataka.”
Needless to say, minutes later, the crowd stood up and applauded.