I started my life in Chamarajpet. It was a very small life in a small world. We lived in a tiny area, which had just eight to 10 houses. We were a family of four — my parents, brother and myself. It was a world which I was familiar and happy with. Once I came out of my home, I would end up on the main road, which for me at that age (four or five) was the end of the world. I believed that the land ended at the main road and that there was a huge ocean beyond that.
Those days there were hardly any vehicles or people too. Every time I saw a bus, I would be fascinated by it. We would see a car once in a while — mostly Ambassadors and Fiats. Anyone who owned a car those days was considered to be a rich man.
Of course, my friends and I would always play on the streets. We would play lagori , spin tops, and hide and seek. The populations was not much, the roads would mostly be empty and life was simple, yet tough.
My father worked as a cook. He would cook for weddings and temples and bring home prasad and ₹20. That in itself was a treat for us. Though it was a hard life, we found beauty in waiting for my father coming home with tasty food.
Even for Deepawali, my father could not afford to buy us crackers, so he would joke, ‘I have arranged for the whole street to burst crackers and create a spectacle for you boys. You have to just stand and watch.'
We had a tough life, yet, I miss those days in Bengaluru. Those days during autumn all the leaves and flowers would be strewn across the road, creating such a pretty picture. It would look like a bed of dry leaves and flowers. There was also a huge parijata tree close to our home, and we would pick the flowers strewn around the tree and make garlands for our pujas . There was Makkala Koota where we would often go and play. I spent a lot of my time there as I was growing up. Today even the Makkala Koota looks cramped. Then we shifted to Vidya Peeta, which was so isolated those days. But today it is so crammed with vehicles and people.
Now, even though some areas look the same, they don't feel the same. They seem to have lost their charm in the name of development. Development has commercialised everything. We had a great land, loaded with trees, fresh air and not many people. If you ask older Bengalureans, they will probably paint a better picture of our city.
Today, children hardly get out of their homes. I feel they are bound within the four walls, playing video games. Even parks are crowded now. There seem to be people and travellers every where. I feel that the city has grown too much at a very fast pace, all at a price.
We would go to Uma Theatre to watch movies, which was a special experience for us. But today we are losing those simple joys of life as we have malls and the multiplex culture for entertainment. We even book our tickets online. What is the use? We have lost the joy of standing in the queue to buy the ticket from the ticket counter. The joy we would get when we got ours before the ‘House Full’ board went up.. is something that cannot be expressed. At theatres, when we saw the hero’s cutout we would stand for hours and stare at his image.
I miss those days. I also spent a lot of my early years on DVG Road. That is one road that still looks the same.
I feel that we should stop the development and go back to our simple lives to enjoy it. Going back does not need to be regressive. We can go back to nature, trees, and birds. We have to bring back nature into our city as watching concrete out of our windows is in no way inspiring
As told to Shilpa Sebastian R
This column features the city through the eyes of a prominent Bengalurean
