Our Childhood Independence Day Fun

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When we were in school, Independence Day was a day we looked forward to, at least 15 days in advance!

We used to dream about the flag hoisting at school followed by distribution of sweets, all singing "Vijayi Vishwa Tiranga Pyara" in 3D surround sound that started with a fade in and reached peak level when all sing "Jhanda ooncha rahe hamara". At Besant Basic School, each pupil got a fully grown sugarcane,and we used to drag it all the way from school to our home in Ballal Bagh Circle!

We even used to wait beneath the big tree in front of our home in Ballalbagh Circle and watch people in big groups on lorry back passing by, shouting "Bharat Mata Ki Jai". We also used to shout and cheer them!

The flag hoisting and  the parade at Nehru Maidan followed by entertainment such as flying a remote controlled toy plane was never boring.

We also used to hire bicycles from the nearby Ramnath Prabhu's shop in Ballalbagh or Hariappanna's shop near Mannagudda Gurji, tie the indian flag and balloons to it, sometimes tying a balloon or an ice cream stick or even a broken plastic tongue cleaner at the back wheel so that when the wheel turned, that would make 'Dub dub dub....or a buzzing noise..... kirrrrrrrrr!".

We 3-4 friends pedaled our bicycles down the highway via Kadri Hills on to Nanthoor and upto Ullal bridge in the pouring rain, happily getting drenched and shout 'Bharat Mata Ki Jai' all through the way! On the way, we also used to catch hold of the lorry chain or bus ladder at the back gaining momentum, of course taking some risk. The cycling used to last the entire day exploring many main roads of Mangalore before we caught cold and started sneezing! Later as I joined college, my classmates Naresh Baliga and Aravind had Lambretta scooters and they used to take me to Panambur or Ullal beach with them. Watching a movie with them at Central or New Chithra talkies was also a routine every year.

Those were the days! Can never find such enthusiasm among the present day youth, as virtual entertainments like TV internet and mobile phones have over shadowed real celebrations. Club culture and partying has taken over simple thrills!

Ajinomoto Crazy

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It was in the year 1982 that we 4 friends plus two parasites(Sorry I had to use this word because some of our friends used to come and enjoy free board/lodge in our home) in Bangalore started cooking Chinese food at home! I was responsible for making basic Chinese preparation fried rice because I got the recipe from my friend in Madras Ganesh Baliga, who was an expert cook compared to me those days!

He whispered in my ear "Rajani whatever, go ahead and make this as I told you. Don't forget to add 'Ajinomoto'!

Ajinomoto! When I found a packet of that in a Store in Rajajinagar and brought it home, my friends laughed their heads off and started shouting "Ajjina moTTo"(Grandma's Egg in Tulu).

Whatever, I was cool and I asked our master chef Shivanand Shenoy to assist me in making fried rice. Shivanand had a way with cooking. He was a perfectionist. He'd lost his mother when he was in school and that made him a compulsory cook but his cooking was mostly restricted to GSB dishes. He was excited that finally our home kitchen goes Chinese, almost competing with Rice Bowl and Continental Restaurant on Brigade Road!

He kept the rice for cooking and chopped the veggies as I directed him. Others were watching with eyes wide open! We didn't have a wok to prepare Chinese food. All we had were two Hindalium vessels, one tall and the other wide! The wide one was used for making sambar for lunch and was kept for scrubbing. I looked at Narayan Kini and Narayan sensed danger! He's the one who washes/scrubs vessels, as he's not good at cooking or chopping veggies! He said "I just remembered that I've to give these recorded cassettes to Dr Murthy. I'll go to Rajajinagar and be back in 15 minutes!

Rajajinagar! We're staying in 3rd block Rajajinagar and he said he's going to Rajajinagar! Very good. I knew what he meant. He meant 4th block where their Anand Disc Club, an LP record lending library was situated. I told him to hurry up, or else he won't get the fried rice. He grinned wide, nodded and disappeared like an arrow! I managed with the tall vessel.

The method was rather easy. fry the veggies, add salt, pepper, ajinomoto and soya sauce, mix in cooked rice and finally garnish with vinegar.

I made a pantastick fried rice(It was sticking to the pan/vessel) and just when I switched off the gas and kept the hot fried rice on the dining table, Narayan appeared with a broad smile, nodding his head approvingly!

We all sat down and helped ourselves. Strange but true, we all shared the food equally those days, irrespective of individual capacities!

The fried rice which can be renamed as Chinese Khichdi was consumed within a minute by all, exclaiming with superlatives like -

 "Solid mhaaraayre....top....super....bhayankara....class....!"

I felt like Nala Chakravarty as they all flattered me and showered me again and again with praises!

This fried rice business went on for a few days, almost on alternate evenings!

Then one day Narayana and Kedar(One of the parasites) seemed enlightened and they declared "The secret is Ajinomoto. It enhances the taste of Fried Rice. We must try and add it in other preparations!"

Since that day, the two Ajinomoto Crazy guys almost enacting Charlie Chaplin in the movie 'Modern Times',  added Ajinomoto to sambar, daalithove, rasam, upkari and almost every food preparation. They also went to the extent of adding it to tea coffee and buttermilk! I later read about the ill and addictive effects of Ajinomoto and realised why I started developing murderous attitude towards the two innocent guys Narayan and Kedar of late!

Within one month, the 50Gm packet of Ajinomoto ran over and a disgusted, frustrated, furious myself announced like Julius Caesar -

"Friends, roommates, countrymen! Henceforth, I won't bring Ajinomoto into our kitchen. Ajinomoto is the worst enemy for mankind after the Hiroshima bomb! If anyone is seen or even heard pronouncing AJINOMOTO, he will have to buy the ticket to the next KSRTC bus and go home!"

Narayan and Kedar looked worried and depressed. I don't know if they cried or had bad cold but they did sniff and sob a little.

Osibisa Unleashed

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In the autumn of 1981, one of the most popular groups of our times, Osibisa's sound of joy was unleashed in India, when they toured the cities Delhi, Bombay, Bangalore, Madras and Calcutta. More than 350000 people enjoyed the 8 shows in total, each of them attended by 20000 to 50000 people.

I was in Bangalore that year October. Local papers announced that Osibisa was to perform live in Bangalore as part of their 'Osibisa Unleashed India Tour'. 20000 watts of sound output with strobe lights and special effects, were expected to make an impact on the music buffs. I was as excited as my brother Kamalakanth and my Bank colleagues SM Padaki and a few others.

The tickets were initially priced at Rs.500/-, 250/-, 125/- and 50/-. I was very conservative those days watching my low bank salary. Almost a month before the concert, I discussed with my brother about buying the tickets in advance. He said he has his own plans and I can go ahead and buy mine. So, I chose the Rs.50/- class and bought my ticket. Within a couple of days, they announced Rs.25/- ticket and I was shocked and disappointed! The thought of losing Rs.25/- made me rather depressed. I asked Kamalakanth about his ticket. He coolly replied that he went for the Rs.125/- class, as he has to maintain certain standards, being a practicing dentist, and if any of his patients attended the concert and they found out that he went for lower class, he may lose his prestige and practice! I told him, I went for the Rs.50/- class not because I could afford to spend that much but they hadn't come out with the Rs.25/- tickets when I bought mine!

However, that day in October we reached the RSI football stadium on MG Road in the evening. Kamalakanth parked his scooter in the parking area, we walked over to the entrance and parted, him standing in the Rs.125/- line and myself searching for the queue to my class. It had rained heavily that afternoon and we were still worried that the show may get cancelled if it started raining again! There was heavy rush and a long queue to get in. I saw my colleague Padaki and his family cheering and waving at me. They were standing in the Rs.25/- queue! After almost 30 minutes of being pushed and pulled in the rush, I was inside the stadium!

Some Osibisa number was playing on the cassette at a rather low volume, and the stage lights were being tested. The entire ground was looking like paddy field just tilled with a power tiller! There was slush and mud all over and walking was rather difficult. Each step made me slip slide and skate, and I was holding on to the metal folding chairs for support as I walked almost to the back where there was some grass on the ground, that was slightly comfortable to stand and watch the show.

Those who bought the Rs.25/- tickets were silently sitting on the solid stone and cement stands, looking very comfortably at that. I was imagining about the front stalls where Rs.500/- down to Rs.125/- class people were struggling to keep their clothes free from dirt! I also thought about Kamalakanth who in an attempt to save his prestige and maintain his class by buying Rs.125/- ticket, was stranded between the Rs.250/- and Rs.50/- classes in the sea of mud, struggling to watch the show!

As soon as Osibisa entered the stage and started to play, there was a loud cheer from the crowd and people started to run to the front, breaking the bamboo barriers and settling down in the Rs.500/- class! Many slipped and fell down, got free mud bath and the ground was full of chaos as security people watched helplessly! I too managed to reach the Rs.250/- class and watching some smart guys standing on the metallic folding chairs, I too climbed on to a chair and made myself safe!

Rest of the evening went on without much calamity and weather was clear. Only problem was moving around in the dirt, so not many tried to dance to the music. Those who broke the barriers and reached the front were whistling, cheering and dancing aggressively, while I was slowly swinging on the chair I had landed on, nodding my head to the rhythm of Osibisa, that not only Unleashed Afro-British music that evening at full blast, but also unleashed a herd of spectators who bought Rs.25/- tickets and reached Rs.500/- class and enjoyed the concert to the maximum, while the ones who bought higher class tickets stayed aloof and watched helplessly as their clothes were painted with mud!

Our 'All Electric' Home

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It was July 1974. We were supposed to vacate our home in Veera Bhavan Ballalbagh. My father had shifted some of our belongings to a house in Alake where flood waters entered and spoiled many books and photos, if not wooden furniture! So, my father frantically searched for a new place to dwell. Then came AG Nayak the ARTO to our rescue, who had many contacts.

I was in Mangalore Nursing Home for a week, to recover from an attack of Para-Typhoid. So, my involvement in shifting our home was zero. Rather I too became a piece of luggage for my family and they moved me along with a few other belongings to a 1000Sq Ft home in Shediguri.

There were three identical houses in one compound belonging to the Yenepoyas which they let out at Rs.400/- per month, rather steep those days. Yet, the compulsion of going for a house for at least 3 months before our own under construction could be complete, made my father agree for that rent and move in.

Our home was in the middle of the three, slightly modern compared to where we had lived for 16 long years. It was a compact tile roofed one with wooden false ceiling, not surprising, as the owners were Timber Traders. Flooring was Red oxide but both the attached bathrooms had glazed tiles, flush tanks and chrome plated fittings. Best part was, the house was all electric. All electric homes were rare those days and we felt privileged to be in one!

All electric alright, but we didn't have many electrical appliances to utilise the load. Water was heated in the conventional way in a copper pot with wood fire. Cooking was done on LPG or kerosene stove and we never had a fridge. I even boasted with my Ballalbagh friends that we're in the luxury of an All Electric Home!

Whatever, we felt very comfortable initially and we also made friendship with the family of a Tamilian Santhan Kumar, working for MCF living in the house to our right and the noted Kannada writer Aa Na Kra's daughter's family to the left. I was taking rest after recovery from Para-Typhoid and was mostly at home.

After a few days, one fine morning, our domestic helper Mechu was mopping the floor in my brother's bed room. I was tuning in our National Ecko radio to listen to Radio Ceylon. Suddenly she jumped two feet off the floor, yelling "Ayyamma!". I was surprised and went in to see what happened. I saw her trembling and she pointed at the corner of the room saying "I got a solid shock when I tried to mop the floor. Lucky that I am still alive!"

I went slowly near the area and touched the floor with my knuckle. I had learned a few tricks then to check electrical leakage those days out of my own instinct, and I knew that knuckle has the least contact surface which can be retracted faster than directly touching with fingers.

Of course, I too got a shock!

I then observed that there was a patch of moisture on the wall where the main switch was installed. Water had seeped through the pipe mounted on the tile roof for passing the electrical wire from main pole. Maybe that leak had seeped into the flooring and caused electrical shock in the area.

I called my mother and sister in law and announced aloud, that nobody should go near the area below the main switch in that corner of the room till something is done about it. I also told Mechu not to mop the area. They all nodded but were worried that in case they forgot, what would be their fate!

In the afternoon, my father came home for lunch and I showed him the area and told him the story. He said, he will have a word with 'Pipe Fitter Pandu', our family plumber cum electrician.

Late in the afternoon, Sampath Kumar, our Tamilian neighbour came home from college and we went outside and started playing cricket along with my brothers Kamalakanth, Radhakanth and couple of other boys in the neighbourhood. After a while we stopped playing and Sampath Kumar went on talking something, while resting his right foot on the water pipeline that ran over the skirting of our house and he too yelled "Ayyo!" and jumped off! That pipe also had electrical current! The sleuth in me became alive. I slowly tip toed and touched the pipe and felt the current. Then I slowly went into our bath room and touched the tap and got a shock there as well!

So now our home is indeed 'All Electric", I announced and laughed aloud! My mother shouted at me and said it's not funny and we must do something fast. I went to the nearest telephone and called my father to tell him that the entire house has electrical leakage. My father said, he has informed Pandu about it and Pandu may come the next day. Father also adviced me not to touch any plumbing fixture that may have leakage of current.

Much later in the evening my brother Srikanth came from Manipal, went into the bathroom, tried to open the tap to wash his face, and got a shock! We all wore Hawaii slippers and protected ourselves that evening. Needless to mention that we didn't sleep well!

Next morning, Pandu arrived, inspected the electrical and  plumbing line for leakage and said, the earthing has not been properly fixed.

He set right the earthing connection, and the house came back to normal.