The gentle west wind hums/ As it blows in from the lake/ Over the fields and swaying palms/ The soul songs of the waves.
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The sleepy little town that Bangalore was when I landed there in 1951 to join college has grown into a huge metropolis of 6.5 million people. It is now the third most populous city in the country. The transformation was slow to start with but gained rapid momentum with the IT explosion in the early nineties. The place that used to be called ‘Pensioners Paradise’ became ‘Silicon Valley of India’.
In October 2006 the Karnataka State Government decided to change the city’s name from Bangalore to Bengaluru. There is a tradition behind this. An 11th century Hoysala king, according to legend, was lost during a hunting expedition. Wandering hungry and tired, he came across an old woman who gave him boiled beans to eat. The king called the area ‘benda-kal-ooru’ which, in the local language Kannada means ‘place of boiled beans’. This tag became mutated to ‘Bengaluru’. Bangalore is its Anglicized version.
Bangalore was once, long ago, called ‘AuspiciousCity’. Then, ‘Land of Heroes’. Labels for the place in the modern times include ‘Garden City’, ‘Stone City’ because of the light gray granite available abundantly in the area, ‘City of Pubs’, ‘Floriculture Capital of India’, ‘Fashion Capital of India’ and ‘Fruit Market of the South’.
Different dynasties including Western Gangas, Cholas, Hoysala and Vijayanagara have ruled over the area, but the township was founded by Kempe Gowda I, who raised a mud fort there in 1537 A.D. The Bijapur army defeated Kempe Gowda III in 1638 and captured Bangalore. It was then bestowed on Shahji Bhonsle. But Bhonsle’s son Venkaji was vanquished by the Mughal general Kasim Khan in 1687. The Mughals sold the city to Chikkadevaraja Wodeyar of Mysore. In 1759 the then king of Mysore gifted it to his commander Hyder Ali. The British defeated Hyder’s son Tippu Sultan in 1799 at Sreerangapatana and restored Bangalore to the Mysore kingdom.
In 1809 the British moved their troops from Sreerangapatna to a large cantonment they built at Halsur (Ulsoor) on the North East of the old Bangalore town. This resulted in Bangalore growing as two distinctive segments – the old ‘City’ and the Cantonment.
The City was under Mysore rule. The Cantonment was part of the Madras Presidency and a major seat of the Raj in the South. It became a world of sahibs, soldiers and Anglo-Indians, of butlers, ayahs, malis and a retinue of servants, of horses, racing and clubs, of bungalows and gardens, of football, cricket, hockey, boxing and golf.
This scenario had not changed too much when I reached Bangalore Cantonment Station one June morning fifty-eight years back. The first thing that hit me was the cold. The elevation of Bangalore, which is located in the south-eastern part of Karnataka (formerly Mysore) on the Deccan Plateau (12.97° N 77.56° E), is a little over 3000 feet (980m) above sea level. Though warmer now than it was half a century back, the climate is still reasonably comfortable.
The place did not have many taxis or buses those days. I took a jutka (horse drawn carriage) to St. Joseph’s College Hostel on Lal Baugh Road; it was a semi-circular granite building that was a landmark. Along the way we did pass a few cars but mostly it was horse carts and hordes of bicycles. Bangalore then had a large two wheeler (no scooters) population. Rent-a-bicycle shops were quite popular.
Like me, many youngsters from different parts of India and abroad flocked to the cool, quiet and green city for studies. Even those days the place had good schools, colleges, and major research institutions. This base in educational facilities in the early days and its subsequent growth certainly contributed to Bangalore’s transition from a quaint little town to a vibrant knowledge and hi-tech capital.
With Independence the City and Cantonment were brought under one administration. The process of integration was slow but sure and Bangalore turned into a truly cosmopolitan metropolis. Today on the streets one can hear not only English, Kannada and other South Indian languages, but also Hindi, Punjabi, Bengali and even, occasionally, French and Japanese.
One of the first visible impacts of Independence was the exodus of a friendly, colorful, and lively people who were part and parcel of life in Bangalore - the Anglo Indians. Usually they were thought of as engine drivers, secretaries and nurses. But the community had made commendable contributions to sports, defense services, music, and to the character of Bangalore itself.
The city’s communal harmony was a factor that helped its business boom. Two eminent men with great foresight – M. Visvesvarayya and Mirza Muhammad Ismail - paved the way for the progress that was to come.
Rail link to Madras was established and telegraph was introduced in the second half of 19th century. Early 20th century saw Bangalore becoming perhaps the first city in India to be electrified. It had major industries even before Independence. The most important one was Hindustan Aircraft (now Hindustan Aeronautics Limited) set up in 1940. There were several Americans attached to this establishment during WW II. They introduced softball game and Bangalore used to have a Softball League. Another American game, basketball, too was popular.
After Independence several Public Sector Undertakings and defense establishments came up. Bangalore was soon recognized internationally as an industry-friendly city and attracted several Indian and foreign investors. To man the new ventures, many bright young scientists, technologists and management experts from all over India moved in. It was a phenomenal growth. Today, according to one estimate, there are over 10,000 industrial units in and around the city.
All through the process of expansion, the city breathed through its two beautiful parks - CubbonPark and Lal Baugh - and the Place Grounds. But the mini-garden circles at road junctions have mostly disappeared. The lakes in and around Bangalore – the major ones being Ulsoor, Sankey and Yedyur - too help. Then there are the open spaces of the Parade Grounds, and the city’s playing fields and stadiums which have produced many eminent sports persons of All-India and international fame.
During the first part of my college days, India Coffee House (now Indian Coffee House) on the MG Road was the place we used to frequent. It had a laid back atmosphere and excellent coffee and snacks at reasonable prices. One could sit there and talk for hours. When Parade Café opened on St. Marks Road around 1953, most of the college crowd shifted there. Occasionally we visited one of the billiards parlors, Old Bull & Bush on Brigade Road. That was where the star of Bangalore’s boxing days, Gunboat Jack used to hang around. This Afro American was on the skid row by early 1950s. Later the US Government shipped him back home.
Today pubs with saucy names have taken-over. The top bracket West End and modest Victoria were the only hotels to speak of half a century back; Woodlands and others opened later. Another one, Central Hotel near the CubbonPark end of MG Road closed down by 1960. Bangalore is now jammed with luxury hotels but shortage of rooms is felt often.
The symbiosis of Bangalore nurtured diverse cultural activities and art forms. Of late these are showcased in an annual winter event called Bengaluru Habba. The mega show includes Carnatic music, jazz, performing arts, crafts including pottery and weaving and painting. Enough corporations and affluent people are around to extend patronage. A recent study shows that Bangalore is the second ranked city in India for millionaire homes – over a hundred thousand of them! Many of the rich are young.
Where have all the cute little bungalows and gardens gone? Several of them were demolished to accommodate towering glass fronted office buildings, lines of multi-storied apartment complexes, modern Malls, multiplexes and lounge bars. The city is bursting at the seams, spreading out in all directions. The skyline is changing almost daily. During a recent visit to Bangalore I lost my way at night in the Cantonment area which I used to know so well!
The vertical and horizontal expansion of the city brings problems in its wake -traffic congestion, pollution, criminal activity and so on. Civic amenities are severely stretched, be it power, water supply, street cleaning or road repairs. Infrastructure development is struggling to catch up with the fast mounting requirements.
The new International airport thirty kilometers away from the city at Devanahalli, Tippu Sultan’s birth place, is a major contribution to the development of Bangalore. Another critical project is the Metro Rail. It got off to a start almost a decade late. The first phase is expected to be completed in 2011.
Sixty years back Bangalore used to sleep by nine o’ clock at night. Today it is known as a city that never sleeps. A silent witness to this transformation is the Bugle Rock, an ancient granite formation that was Kempe Gowda’s watchtower. It is one of the several interesting sights in the area.
In many parts of Chennai there are paved footpaths. But most people avoid them and walk on the road. Lack of safety consciousness? Not really. Pedestrians avoid them for different reasons.
First of all, the kerbs are too high from the road levels – almost 18 inches at many places. Getting on to them is not easy, particularly for the elderly. And they are the people who have to be extra careful while walking on the road.
Then, at every 30 feet or so, there is an entrance to a building. The pathway does not taper down at such spots. Therefore, one has to step down to the road level and climb up again after the gate. It could be good exercise but not friendly to people who are in a hurry. The photo below explains the point.
Even if one takes up the challenge, there are problems. The other day I found a two-feet-high boundary demarcation on a footpath as an extension of the compound wall between two buildings. You can step over it if the watchman and his cronies are not sitting on it.
Another impediment I noticed was a three-feet-wide concrete name board of a resident right across the 4.5 feet walkway, at a height of about four feet. One could neither stride over nor duck under it.
Why are the kerbs so high? I don’t think that international road specifications demand such huge concrete blocks. Is there some particular reason why Chennai opts for them? See below a picture from CubbonPark, Bangalore, originally published in my postBangalore: Of a club, a park and a Chief Secretary couple
Let us look at the cost of the kerb stones used at Chennai and Bangalore. In the case of the former, the outlay would be more than double. It is not only the price of the input materials for the concrete blocks.
We must also consider the higher transporting and handling charges for the larger pieces. A truckload of the smaller ones would cover much more road length. Then again, much more volume of sand is needed to fill in the high footpaths and considerably longer time is taken to complete the work.
It is clear that that less elevated walkways have several advantages. Why not stretch the available funds to cover more areas and benefit the pedestrians by choosing low-level footpaths?
That is, unless there is other compelling reasons like local conditions to follow the present practice.
Last Thursday I went to Bangalaore by the Shadabthi Express. The first thing that struck me was the difference in the onward and return fares. The latter was lesser. It took me some time to sort that out.
It was my maiden trip by the much touted Shadabthi. Clean compartment. The wide seats, two abreast with fold back middle arm rest, were comfortable. The airconditioning was just right. The toilets were spotless. They had paper rolls and genuine undiluted liquid soap.
Shortly after we left Chennai Central at 5.30 p.m. high tea was laid out – sandwich, samosa, wafers in three different flavors, and so on. Most of the passengers stuffed the goodies into their bags.
Then it was dinner time. Again substantial quantities served by smartly attired bearers. Quite tasty too. All included in the fare. Read for sometime and presto we were in Bangalore Cantt. The distance of about 355kms was covered in approximately 4 ½ hours.
The return train yesterday was to start at 6 a.m. Reached the City Station at 5.30 only to be told that Shadabthi was cancelled. Informing passengers over phone about such changes is apparently not a part of the railway culture.
After a while I was told that three additional AC chair cars were being attached to the Lal Baugh Express leaving at 6.30. I got a seat in a 1992 vintage coach. One could buy breakfast from vendors (railway employees?) wearing clothes that required washing a week ago.
Half an hour out of Chennai Central it was announced that the train was being diverted to Egmore Terminus. The reason? Two bogies of another train had derailed at Central Station. But that had happened the previous night. The passengers could have been informed even before our train left Bangalore.
Since my driver has a mobile phone I could direct him to Egmore. Passengers who didn’t have that facility had to engage taxi or auto rickshaw from Egmore to Central for boarding their cars.
One must however acknowledge that the hefty difference between Shadabthi and the Lal Baugh Express fares was refunded within half hour of reaching Egmore at the end of the 6 ½ hours journey.
Now, the reason for the fare disparity between the Bangalore bound and return Shadabthi - on the outward journey high tea and dinner are served while only breakfast is provided when you come back.
Responding to my post The greatness of human nature – a true story a viewer who was in Trivandrum during 1930s and 1940s sent me an email stating that a Taliat was Chief Justice of Travancore
There were two Taliat brothers, Joseph and Jacob at Trivandrum those days. The elder, Joseph, was the Chief Justice. Jacob became the Surgeon General of the State around 1947. I think that he was also the Surgeon General of the integrated Travancore-Cochin State after Independence.
Jacob’s son George emulated his father by becoming a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons. He was a well-known specialist in pediatric surgery and was with the Trivandrum Medical College. He died rather young.
Joseph Taliat’s daughter Lucy was a doctor too. She was with St. Martha’s Hospital, Bangalore and, if I remember right, was also associated with the St. John’s Medical College, Bangalore during its formative years.
Taliat is an ancient Syrian Christian family from the present Ernakulam District. During the time of the maharajas too, citizens could reach top positions irrespective of their religion.
Another interesting detail – the Maharajas of Cochin had the title ‘Protector of Christians’.
What’s the difference between India Coffee House and Indian Coffee House? I shall come to that shortly. What is important is that both together have been serving Indian coffee with the same aroma and taste for seven decades. And three generations have enjoyed it.
In the post Some memories of WW II, Cochin and the 1940s., I mentioned India Coffee House on Broadway, Cochin. My maternal grandfather (KC Abraham, Kallivayalil-Konduparambil) took four of us siblings there when we were children. It was a great experience which we enjoyed thoroughly. We had coffee and glucose biscuits. I don’t think they served stuff like masala dosa those days.
Again I mentioned India Coffee House in the post Bangalore memories. That was a place I loved during college days in the early 1950s. The laid back atmosphere, spending hours over a cup of real coffee, small talk which one forgets even before leaving the place, diverse people – students, journalists, elders. Something that belonged to another era.
Or so I thought, till I came across an article ‘Coffee, tea and memories’ by Priyanka Haldipur in the Deccan Herald. She says: ‘Walk into the place for a feel of what Bangalore would have seemed like almost five decades ago. Nothing has changed in this humble coffee place... not the style, and certainly not the coffee.’
Another Coffee House I remember from my school days is the one at Trivandrum, opposite to the present AG’s Office. They used to serve excellent masala dosa as well. But we mostly patronized Connemara Café, next to Sridharan’s General Store (started by his father Kesavan) and owned by the same people. The favorite there was cutlets with a salad of curry cucumber and a cold, non-aerated orange drink.
These places (other than Connemara) were ‘India Coffee Houses’ to start with. The first was opened in Bombay in 1935 by the Indian Coffee Cess Committee. The objective was to promote the consumption of coffee. Subsequently, Indian Coffee Board took over and built up a chain of 72 coffee houses. But in the 1950s the Board closed down most of these cafes and sacked the workers.
Enter AK Gopalan, the famous Communist leader from Kerala. He organized a worker’s cooperative by the former employees of the Coffee Board and started the first Indian Coffee House at Trichur, Kerala in 1958. It has now grown into a chain of nearly 400 outlets all over India. I believe that Coffee Board still runs about a dozen India Coffee Houses.
This is written over a big cup (a birthday present from my grandson Adithya) of strong black coffee. Good. The coffee, I mean. Whether the article too deserves that comment is for you to judge!
My friend Sushil (Jacob Matthan) of Oulu, Finland said in a recent postTwo faces of sport in India on his Blog Seventh Heaven ‘My interest in hockey, especially to be a hockey goalkeeper started in 1952-53 when I was a 10 year old living in Bangalore. I used to live opposite the St, Joseph College Hostel and sports grounds.I had many friends studying in the college. One was a guy called Abe Tharakan. He was the hockey goalkeeper for the college. I used to watch the team train and watched all their games. Abe inspired me to take up the game and the position of goalkeeper after I moved toBombay in 1954.’
Sushil played hockey for CathedralSchool, Bombay and St. Stephan’s, Delhi where Arun Shourie was his captain, and also in England. On his mention of St. Joseph’s playing fields, a whole lot of memories came flooding back to my mind. I have played hockey on many grounds in India but this one is special in several ways. May be Sushil did learn something from me. But he had as his school (Bishop Cotton’s) coach RJ Allen who kept goal for India in three successive Olympics – 1928, 1932, 1936.
I am also reminded of many a player of the 1950s. Some were internationals, and others, though good, were confined to the local circuit. My first captain at St. Joseph’s, Ponnappa was a bundle of hockey wisdom, a top class left half, and a good leader. Unnikrishnan of HAL was perhaps the best centre half who never played for India. McBride, again of HAL, was a solid back. He later coached the St. Joseph’s School team and my two sons, Joseph and Abraham were among the beneficiaries.
Two very good goalkeepers in Bangalore were Olympian Deshmuthu, and Dicky Armstrong. Deshmuthu stuck on with HAL. He had occasional lapse of concentration and Laxman was preferred for India’s playing eleven. Those were the days when hockey goalkeepers had no protection except for pads and abdomen guards. During 1957 Bombay Nationals when I was holding the citadel for Kerala against the mighty Punjab, Laxman come to the goal post and gave me a pair of gloves. That was a gesture which I can never forget. Probably that helped me to give a performance which the great Dyanchand reportedly called the finest he had seen.
Armstrong shifted to Bombay where also he excelled. His brother Billy was a planter, and a regular at Mundakayam Club. We used to meet for years, whenever I went to that club. Billy too was a fine man.
Among the teams, HAL which had all the stars and glamour, and the Army team, Madras Engineering Group (MEG) a well oiled hockey machine, were the top ones. St. Joseph’s were almost there with them. We had a St. Joseph’s Sports Club which included some old students also. Chari was the moving spirit behind that venture. I have never come across a person who loved hockey so much; it was his life. He was a good player as well. He is fondly remembered.
I invite you to read Captain of the St. John's Team
I joined St. Joseph’s College, Bangalore, in 1951. In the hostel on Lal Baugh Road we had a cosmopolitan crowd – Coorgis, East Africans, Sri Lankans (Ceylonese those days), Goans, Andhra, Tamil and Kannadiga boys. Very few Mallus.
Since I had played cricket and hockey in Kerala before going to Bangalaore, I was keen on getting into the college teams for both these games. I was warned that the standard of cricket and hockey was much higher in Bangalore compared to Kerala but that didn’t deter me.
Cricket selections came up first. I had performed quite well as a fast bowler in Kerala and wanted to impress the selectors with my pace. It was months since I had touched a cricket ball. Regardless of that, I took my 18 stride run up at full steam and released the ball with all my might. It hit the pitch about three yards in front of me and sped to fine leg. That was the end of my hopes to make the cricket team.
But I was more fortunate in hockey. The previous year’s goalkeeper had completed his studies. I had only one newcomer as competition. He didn’t do too well in the selection trials and I was selected. Good luck followed me throughout my hockey career. The college management and teammates gave me great support. So did Mr. (Leslie?) Wilson, Sports Editor of the Deccan Herald.
Fr. Boniface D’Souza SJ was the Principal those days. He was actually a kind and understanding person but people were scared of him because of his formidable look. The joke used to be that anyone summoned to his room would not come back in one piece.
On the day of Inter College hockey finals I was called to his room. As I waited tensely the principal looked up and said, “Must win today” and dismissed me with a wave of his hand. We did win.
The second year public exam, English Paper II was an sad affair. We were required to do an essay – ‘On missing a train’. The students were shocked on seeing the question paper. A couple of girls started crying silently. The emotional tension was all about Len Dial, a college hero. He was tall, handsome, an all-round sportsman, and heart-throb of girls.
The previous evening Len had gone to the Cantonment Station to see off someone. He went on to the East Station and while trying to get down there from the slow moving train he slipped and fell between the platform and the train. The wheels went over both his legs.
We had gone to the examination hall from Bowring Hospital where Len’s body was.
Len had been a good friend to most of us. May his soul rest in peace.
A June morning in 1951. I get down at Bangalore Cantonment Station after a rather tough overnight journey. There was no direct train from Cochin to the Garden City; I had to get down at Jalarpet in the middle of the night and change train.
It is cold. There is a slight drizzle as well. I engage a jutka (a horse-drawn carriage) and enjoy the ride to the semi-circular St. Joseph’s College Hostel on Lal Baugh Road. There I meet the Warden, Fr. Charles Andrade SJ (Charlie to his wards, I came to know later) and four wonderful years of my life begin.
Bangalore (the Cantonment area) was a sleepy little town those days. Pensioners’ Paradise. The transformation from the British background to Indian was on, but the pace was slow. (You can see some old photographs at The Bangalore that was, 60 years ago!) No high rise buildings, only houses with gardens, most of them single storied. Hardly any traffic, except for hoards of bicycles. Lovely trees and flowers. I used to enjoy the 1km walk from the hostel to the college.
I think St. Joseph’s was the only college in the world hemmed in by four schools – St. Joseph’s Indian High School in front, Sacred Heart’s (Good Sheppard) on the right, St. Joseph’s EuropeanSchool on the left and BishopCottonGirlsSchool at the back.
Apart from the college and hostel, life was centered on the playing fields next to the hostel, South Parade (present MG Road) and Brigade Road. There were occasional trips to Majestic too for Hindi movies. South Parade had three theatres – Liberty, Globe and Plaza. There was BRV on Cubbon Road, and three on the Brigade Road-Residency Road junction – Opera on one side and Imperial and Rex on the other. We used to get 50% concession on tickets at Globe and Plaza by showing the college identity card!
The only restaurant we could go to in the evenings was the India Coffee House on South Parade. Then came Parade Café on St. Marks Road, and later, Koshy’s on Brigade Road.
All activities came to a stop by around 8 o’clock. Bangalore, the little town, used to go to sleep early those days.
(Note: It was ambitious to try and cram the memories of four years into 400 words. Perhaps I should come out with interesting details later.)
These photographs of Bangalore were taken in 1946. Can you identify the buildings /locations? Try. Ask your friends as well.
Add these questions to the quiz: 60 years back, What was the name of MG Road? South Parade. Bangalore was part of which State? Mysore State. Bangalore had how many cars? Not less than 656 cars. A couple of clues are in the pictures.
I'll come back with the answers after three days.
Town Hall area
MG Road. Higginbothams on the left
Brigade Road.
Mayo Hall
This is where the IT hub is - Hosur Road!
Oriental Building (LIC) View from MG Road towards St. Marks Road.
The car number is BAN 656.
(Photos provided by Narayan Thampi, Cochin.)
Today, May 5, 2008, I received the following email
"hi, perhaps you did not know but you have on your blog copies of my pictures taken by me in 1946 they are brigade road mayo hall oriental building car ban 656 surely the gentlemanly thing to do is to give me credit for them as Ronnie has done on his Bangalore web site. He is the only one I gave an OK to although I have no problem with you posting them if suitable credit is given All the best to you . Its great to see how Bangalore has prospered Antony Loach Vancouver BC"
My failure to give proper credit is highly regretted. Abraham Tharakan.
