DIARY

Right now, the rains are a distant memory, but it wasn't long ago that we felt our city was just soaking in water... and though we didn't have the major deluge that Chennai had, we too had our share of dampness and moisture. There are some organisms that thrive in this moist, humid environment, and though they have a short life, they still look beautiful, and intriguiging, when they appear. Mushrooms are a form of fungi... and in fact, the fruiting body of these organisms. Mushrooms come in varieties called bolete, puffball, stinkhorn, morel, and gilled mushrooms themselves are often called agarics.…

In October 2015, I had written an article on the absence of asphalted roads in Akshayanagar Layout, off Bannerghatta Road.  In the past 2.5 months, much work has happened on the Hulimavu-Begur stretch. The stretch of road, which previously looked like this...  ...has been tarred as seen below here. The entire Hulimavu-Begur road stretch till DLF New Town has been repaired and asphalted. Having said this, the Yelenahalli Road continues to remain a nightmare. (This picture was taken in November 2015) Along with complaints and concerns, it is also essential to highlight the positive action taken by local administration. Hoping…

At the last minute, on the morning of December 13th, I convinced 20 other birders that instead of going to Valley School, we should bird along the Kaggalipura-Bannerghatta stretch, and then go to check out Hulimangala. And there, at nearly the end of a long birding outing, we saw a migrant which has never before been sighted in the Bangalore area... the Demoiselle Crane. Can you spot the crane in its habitat?  Here it is: Demoiselle cranes undertake one of the toughest migrations in the world.... as tough as that of the Bar-headed Geese.  From late August through September, they gather in…

I am not one for waxing nostalgic along the lines of “then and all, life was very simpall … now-man-days, it is all rotten sar, rotten means rotten only!” For me, history, personal history, is more often than not something to look upon with a certain amusement. Often, it is nice to revisit the past and draw whatever energy it can offer. I remember that childhood alliances and friendships were made and broken and re-made on momentous grounds. Take for example: matches. Not cricket matches, or the actual arsonist implements ex of Sivakasi. I refer to the labels that were…

There was, on the opposite side of our street, a depression about four feet deep that ran parallel to the street. In this depression, were small individual cottages (I BHK, in modern terminology). Eight or nine of them, as I recall. These even had a kind of front veranda/porch kind of space.  The cottages were, I recall being told as a kid, built to house refugees coming from the partition woes of 1947. However, when we moved to the street in 1965, these buildings were police quarters – pronounced PO-līs kōtrassu. In the first of these lived M and fly.…

“Wish you a wonderful weekend”, screams the RJ through the radio as my car labours through the serpentine traffic. For the happy weekend to begin, I must get first home, and so must the lakhs of office-goers. Friday evenings in Bengaluru are not like any other day. I am now at the nerve centre of the city, Majestic, which seems to be bursting at its seams. Throngs of travellers scramble towards the KSRTC bus stand for their weekend trip to their ‘native’ or some holiday destination. Private buses are parked haphazardly along the roadside, and travellers have no other option…

The relatives were visiting from the Tamil country. It was May 1967. The exact dates slip my memory. (They do say that memory is the second thing to go. I don’t remember what the first thing is. Oh, come on! It’s a tried and tested gag!) In those Good Old Days (when nostalgia was much better than now), booking a train ticket was rather an accomplishment. You had go to the railway station (SBC in our case), get a blank form to fill in, fill it in, and then stand in a queue. Remember that story you were told about…

A WP engine. Train no 7724, Nilagiri Express. Pic: IRFCA - www.irfca.org It was a sunny Sunday morning in 1966. My uncle, Gurunath, had been fascinated by trains for long before that, I guess. Sunday mornings were our outing times. This Sunday, he took me to the Bangalore City railway station. Platform 1 of those days was what is now Platform 7. The current ‘backside gate’, as auto drivers refer to it, was the main entrance. Construction of the current Platform 1 was in its early stages. Back to the old Platform 1 (PF1). We sat on a bench on…

A typical Indian Babu knows no obligations lower than his/her own rank. Rank though s/he may be, s/he will enforce the Golden Rule of Babutopia (GRB): “Kick downwards, lick upwards.” This is also called the Brown Sahib Syndrome; BSS is GRB with a melanin-twist: criticise, trample, kick anything native (read brown), and honour, extol, lick anything foreign (read white). My language is harsh, but it is the reality I see even after all these years of post-colonial, independent India, when we are rather kicking some international butt, even if in a limited sense. Take this episode for instance. A few…

It was camp-fire time at Naamadachilume, near Tumkur, Karnataka, school year 1972-73. All manner of sharing, singing, joking, and so on was going on. The Scout Master said, “I know students call me Dappa Ravay (V)unday. I think it is because I am a very sweet person.” In those few seconds, we realized that famous “fortune” line that would appear, decades later, on my Unix terminal: “Remember that secret you had? It isn’t!” DR Vijayendra Rao aka DRV, from a family photograph. Pic: DV Prahlad Generations of students (about 5 or 6 only, at the time) had called him that.…