I love R.K. Narayan’s stories, and often the best part is his description of the fictional town of Malgudi, its various inhabitants, even the stray animals of the town and every other little aspect. Many of these somehow seem to match the sleepy city of Mysore of yesteryear, as I hear from the members of the family into which I have married.
My husband recently did this nostalgic trip, along with his childhood friend, down the lane where he had spent his childhood. It runs parallel to the road on which the Jaganmohan Palace, the city’s star attraction and highlight, is situated. It was indeed a touching and interesting visit. As we entered the lane, I could see the two friends going back to their childhood. They could recall the residents of each house and relate interesting anecdotes of those days.
Their eyes were sparkling and I could almost hear their heartbeats getting louder as they neared the houses they had themselves lived in.
Today, the entire broad street, which once had just residential buildings, a math and just a couple of shops in between, has become a commercialised street, with most of the old houses replaced by modern commercial buildings. In fact, the house that belonged to my family was beside a small automobile garage. The members of my husband’s family had got used to talking loudly because my husband’s grandmother was hard of hearing and they had to shout over the noise of the garage for her to hear! Otherwise the road was quite calm with just stray vehicles passing by once in a way. My husband fondly remembers how he had spent some of the best moments of his childhood sitting on the cement bench in front of his house, with his friends, watching passersby, street vendors, and very rarely, some cars that passed.
Another rendezvous
My husband’s friend took us to another friend’s house, which was one of the very few buildings still awaiting their end! It was in a dilapidated state, with three to four smaller tenements. His wife was ailing and lying down in a room. The houses were rather vaguely designed!
Then started the most interesting chat sessions. That old gentleman, who reminded me of one of R.K. Narayan’s characters, related in a very interesting way how Mysore had transformed itself from being a sleepy, quiet, small town to a busy, bustling and big city. He narrated how when President Rajendra Prasad came to Mysore, there were hardly a handful of police constables posted along the road along which he drove in an open car. Then, when Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru came to Mysore, the security arrangements were more formal, though he too drove about in an open car, waving at the crowds. But by the time Indira Gandhi as Prime Minister visited Mysore, the scene had changed so much.
As people waited eagerly along the roads, the motorcade just zipped by and nobody could see her. He said he and his pals ran to the nearby helipad to look at the helicopter, but missed seeing the President of India, who was addressing the crowd elsewhere!
The two friends spoke about all their childhood friends, some of whom are no more, and went back to those days as they discussed all the games that they played, the pranks they had indulged in and the love they got from all the homes alike.
We then walked to the Jaganmohan Palace and visited an old restaurant opposite it, which was still in the same state it was in the 1950s and 1960s. The friends were thrilled to see the picture of the founder of the hotel on the wall, a majestic man with long hair and a big moustache, who it seems used to play the role of Keechaka in dramatic performances. His grandson was now in charge. We ate tasty dosas, immersed in nothing but nostalgia!
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