The story of my radio part 2: A radio museum visit in Bangalore

Story continued from ‘The story of my radio part 1: Seeking Restoration.’

The process of restoration:

On 25th February 2022, my radio had finally found a person who was willing to give a try on it. My brother had carried the radio to the workshop where it was supposed to undergo an inspection. The moment my brother kept the radio on worktable, it crumbled into pieces. The cabinet opened from all edges and roaches ran out. With a perplexed look on his face, the radioman shared his apprehensions about being able to restore the job and the high cost involved in the process. Upon our request to give it a try without worrying about the cost, he agreed.

The complete cabinet and dial-cord were broken, speaker paper was torn to bits, band-switch needed re-wiring, dial-lamp was burnt, backplate was bent, grill cloth was torn, Veneer and dial-glass were peeling off. These were some of the initial observations made during the physical examination. A coil and a valve needed replacement as informed on the following day after a functionality check. An approximate cost of restoration was informed for my approval. “There is no price-tag for the emotions associated with this radio, kindly go ahead.”, I approved with an advance payment.

Our radioman is a passionate collector and a restorer of radios by hobby and not someone who does it as a full-time job. Unlike repairs, restoration processes are long, tedious and requires a lot of patience. As the case with all projects which he takes up, he discussed my radio too with his community of radio enthusiasts across the globe and contacted friends in his circle of know-how. Everyone recommended him not to take up this project as they all believed it was beyond the possibility. In the eventuality of it not working even after so much effort and money being spent on it, they warned him to brave the brunt of being blamed by or facing the disappointment of its owner (me, in this case). However, upon my affirmation to not give up, our radioman took this by his stride and as a personal challenge to make every single equipment entering his workshop to go out in a workable condition.

National Ekco Radio, Top: Before restoration. Below: After restoration.

Among all equipment that he gets for restoration, he described mine to be one of the toughest. Hence, he periodically updated me the status of the restoration process whenever he was with it in his workshop. In this case, the torn parts were replaced. The grill-cloth was procured from a textile store that was about to shut down at Shimoga, the brass knobs were retained after being hand polished for several days (without the aid of any chemicals), the coil was rewound with new wire, a new valve was sourced through a Facebook community of radio collectors living abroad. The cabinet was newly sawed and painted by the radioman himself.

‘Madam, your radio is now working. You can come and collect it anytime’, he had messaged me. It was a moment of excitement.

Meeting the Radioman at his little world of radios:

Finally, my brother and I were at his little workshop cum museum of his personal collection of radios to take delivery of our ‘little project of determination’. My determination to get the radio fixed and determination of radioman to ‘fix’ it at any cost. Beaming with a wide smile, standing at the gate of his residence to greet us was Mr. Uday Kalburgi, the radioman of Bangalore and the magician who had breathed life into my ‘box of nostalgia.’

A portion of his house serves as a ‘Short wave radio museum’, his personal collection of vintage radios from across the globe and a tiny workshop to take up not-for-profit radio restoration projects. It felt like walking into an era bygone as he excitedly narrated the story behind each of the unit in his collection of 180-odd radios. The story of his craze for radios started with a radio displayed at the entrance which consists of a small coil and receiver that was made by him as a young boy of class five when he couldn’t afford a radio. It now is a home to fascinating stories from world-wars, flight crashes, kingdoms from around the world to gifts from modern collectors. Our conversation around short wave radio had travelled long around the globe for a good number of hours until my brother and I realized that we had other scheduled work to catch up elsewhere.

Short wave Radio Museum, Bengaluru

Little known until we returned home that evening, it was 25th February 2023. It was exactly a year ago that this story of my radio began when it was handed over to the magician who put back life into it.

Fact file: ‘Short Wave Radio Museum’ located in Basaveshwaranagar, Bangalore is a personal museum, open to the public on all days and the entry is free. Since it is also the place of the curator’s residence, it is required to call him over phone before planning your visiting.

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Favorite memories from the year 2022

Favorite Sunsets:

• Sitting atop the Hemkuta hill and watching the sun casting a golden touch on the Vithala temple at Hampi, India.
• Feeling all my stress getting washed down by the waves of the blue flag beach by walking deep into the sea at Padubidri beach, India.
• Feeling the vastness and emptiness of the world while staring at the setting sun from the ‘End Of The World’ viewpoint, Saudi Arabia.

Favorite Sunrises:

• Clapping my hands with joy at seeing the sun rising over the ruins of Hampi at Matanga hill, India.
• Waking up in a tent pitched by the backwaters and kayaking out to watch the rising sun on river Shambhavi, India.
• Hiking across an extinct volcano to watch the sun rise over the Arabian desert at Wahaba crater, Saudi Arabia.

Favorite Outdoor Activities:

Accomplishing the below outdoor activities in Karnataka that I had been contemplating for many years:

• Cliff jumping at Sanapur lake, Koppala district
• Rock climbing at Badami, Bagalkot district
• Kayaking to watch the Bioluminescent waters at Mulki, Dakshina Kannada district.

Favorite Hikes:

Hiked new trails, explored new waterfalls, and feasted delicious cuisines in the Western Ghats.

• Relished a variety of wild berries, took a dip at the Catherine waterfalls, and tasted Badaga cuisine while meandering through trails in the tea gardens at Kotagiri.
• Walked through the misty grasslands to see a dilapidated fortress, stood atop the snout of a waterfall at Bandaje, took a dip in Kodige waterfalls, and tasted Malnad cuisine at Chickmagalur.
• Discovered untapped hiking trails, visited lesser known view points and tried natural foods from the local tribal community and saw hills full of Arabica coffee blossoms at Yercaud.

Favorite Movies:

Albeit not a movie person, 2022 was a year in which I watched the maximum number of movies at a cinema, and that too solo. Apart from catching up on some highly recommended movies on OTT platforms, I watched four movies on the big screen. These four were the regional movies whose release I had eagerly waited for and was particular about a theatrical watch only. Apart from ‘777 Charlie’ which I watched with my family; I watched three other movies in the company of just myself: Rocketry, Kantara, and Gandhadha Gudi.

Apart from these, some remarkable events made 2022 special for me.

• A trek to Kodachadri hill on New Year’s Day was truly memorable that found me socializing with more people and making newer friends.
• ‘Glen’, my pet dog who was one month old at the time of entering our home and warmed up our hearts in the first week of the new year.
• I said goodbye to my first job after serving the company for over a decade, a change that I had been long contemplating.
• Experienced a moment of realization that I was all by myself. A realization that the contacts, the people, the respect, and the inspiration I thought I had accumulated and given to people around me could all mean just ‘Zero’. A moment of realization that trusting even the people you have known for a long could be wrong. A moment of realization that the closest people could have no emotions of empathy at all.

Are Indians less patriotic?

On a recent trip to Saudi Arabia, I had come across people of several nationalities, all living in harmony and brotherhood in the country. I noticed that the people from the larger Indian sub-continent are greatly respected by the locals irrespective of their nationality. By the Indian subcontinent I mean, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and to somewhat an extent, Sri Lanka. Everybody shares a common language, ethnicity, and identity of being an “Indian”. During my stay there, I witnessed National festival celebrations of three countries including Pakistan’s Independence Day, Indian Independence Day, and Saudi National day (Independence Day).

Celebrating Pakistan’s National festival:

I arrived in Saudi on 13th August’22. It was the first day of my presence in a new country, I was all excited to get acquainted with my neighborhood. But, I was suffering from a headache due to lack of sleep. Hence, I just identified a mall, some Indian restaurants, and a few grocery stores nearby for availing emergency items and called it a day.

On the 14th morning, I noticed that a big Pakistani flag was hung in a shop located right in front of the hotel where I was staying. It indicated that the store was owned/run by a Pakistani citizen, and they were celebrating Pakistan’s 75th Independence Day. For me, it came as a surprise that another country’s flag was allowed to be displayed publicly. But what piqued my interest more was meeting a Pakistani national for the first time. It needs no explanation that any form of free communication between the people of India and Pakistan isn’t accepted in both nations when we are residing in our respective countries. I decided to buy a small flag as a souvenir to mark my first meeting with any Pakistani person in my lifetime. Hence, I crossed the road and entered the large textile store.

Ranging from bangles, frocks, cufflinks, brooches, keychains, and flags, there were several Pakistani National day themed knickknacks available for purchase. The shopkeeper asked me what I was looking for. I asked him to give me the smallest available replica of the Pakistani national flag in the thought that I could paste it in my personal journal/ scrapbook. But, there was none in the size that could fit into my book. He showed me some of the other accessories available, and I informed him that none could be used in my country. A little surprised, he asked me where I was from. I told him that I was from India. Learning of my interest in buying a Pakistani flag as a souvenir excited him. He happily handed over a small stack of miniature flag stickers into my hands and asked me to keep them all, for which he refused to accept any money. He wished me in advance for India’s Independence Day and I returned the greetings for his country’s special day before leaving his shop.

Celebrating India’s National festival:

It was 15th August on the following morning, a day that India was celebrating as ‘Azadi ka Amrit Mahotsav’ back home on her 75th Independence Day. That day, there was no sight of any Indian flag hanging anywhere outside on the streets. I decided to seize the opportunity to explore the neighborhood a little more in the name of adding an Indian national flag to my journal in memory of my first Indian national festival celebration, outside of India. I walked into a few Indian textiles stores asking them if they had any Indian flags to which they responded with a negative. I walked into a few Indian restaurants to check if they had anything on display or if they could give me any leads to where I could find one. A few of them asked me the purpose of why I was searching for an Indian flag. When I told them that I wanted to use it as a souvenir, they either smiled or had a smirk on their faces. They must have wondered that I was some crazy woman walking freely on the streets of Saudi in search of my country’s independence.

None of them had any clue where I could find one. In the pursuit of an Indian National flag in Saudi Arabia, I wandered across a few streets walking over 9800 steps as indicated in the activity tracker on my smartphone. After concluding it to be a futile attempt to find an Indian tricolor, I decided to head back to my hotel. During my return, my eyes fell on a stationary shop and I decided to give it a last try. There was an Indian storekeeper who smiled upon hearing my inquiry. He took me to the section where a bundle of small plastic flags was kept. I asked for one flag for which he charged me 2 SAR without a bill. I came out of the shop all happy after a successful hunt at exactly the 10,000th step in the activity tracker, only to realize that I was standing just a few yards away from my hotel and that I had searched all over to find a little flag.

Indian National flags at the stationary store

Celebrating Saudi Arabia’s National festival:

It was a long weekend due to the Saudi National day celebration on the 23rd of September. I was in Riyadh, the country’s administrative capital where several ceremonies were scheduled for the observance of the National day. The entire city was lit up and decorated with the theme of the Saudi national flag, which I was told was the case throughout the country. The level of public involvement and the fervor with which a national day is celebrated in Saudi was something that I felt missing back in my country on a national festival.

At the end of the National day celebrations, I and a few others who had accompanied me for the weekend were at the airport terminal in Riyadh, waiting for our return flight. We noticed that all staff working at the airport and the shops were wearing representative brooches or sashes. By then, I had realized that I had the national flags of two countries as souvenirs with a backstory of how I got them. I didn’t want to miss out on adding one from Saudi to the collection because that’s where I was to celebrate the national days of all three countries in 2022. I asked one of the staff about where I could get one for myself and that’s it. She got a sash not just for me, but one for each person who had accompanied me. Her colleagues and she were extremely excited to give us the sashes and click selfies with us wearing them. And any money offered in exchange was refused to be taken, as they called it a gift for us from them.

Souvenirs to celebrate National festivals of India, Pakistan and Saudi Arabia

Conclusion remarks:

Sitting back on my flight, I was trying to recollect my experience of how a national festival was perceived by three different countries. As a foreigner, I was given a gift (free of cost) by Saudi Arabia and Pakistan with excessive excitement. Whereas, being an Indian, I expected myself to be warmly greeted by a fellow Indian on foreign soil and share the same enthusiasm to wish each other on India’s national festival. Instead, I bought an Indian flag from an Indian (it was a small cost by any reference, that could be waived off). It was not the free item I was seeking, but at least an Indian to be able to guide me to a place where I could get Indian products. The expectation was to meet another Indian who shared the same excitement to celebrate India’s festival as that of a Saudi or a Pakistani.

Are we Indians less patriotic? What are your thoughts?

Annual Summary

What is life without a bucket list and what is life without celebrating little accomplishments? It is important to be grateful for big successes and for the small joys.

Here’s a gratitude post summarizing each year of mine for the good things that have happened with me.

• Secret Santa- 2012
• The year that was- 2013
• Breaking out free- 2014
• 2015- Post has been removed
• 2016- Post has been removed
• 2017- Post has been removed
• 2018- Post has been removed
• Summarising my calendar year- 2019
• Fun experiences at home during the lockdown- 2020
• Throwback to another year with Covid- 2021

Lessons Learnt by a Trek Leader

Who is a leader? One who holds the group; One who owns the group; One who carries a group.

‘A team may have members with varied backgrounds, thinking ways, and cultures. But a leader is someone who despite the difference, is expected to maintain cohesiveness and lead the way to the success of the team. The quality of a good leader is being fearless, able to face challenges, and remaining unshaken.’ This is what we would define, and every other personality development trainer would teach.

But are we ever taught to think that like all members of a team, a leader is also human? Are we made to think about why even the best leader can fail? Are we taught to ask the leader if they had a good day?

To answer these questions, I would like to take the reference of my personal experience in this aspect and break the discussion into two parts. First, I would like to list the aspects of leadership I have learnt by taking on a role of a trek leader since 2019. In the second, I would like to discuss the realizations made while reflecting upon the situations that were created that brought me closer to a meltdown in 2022.

Part 1: Being a trek leader

There were times when I had to adjust. Once, while on our way to Kodachadri, our bus broke down. In the middle of the night, I had to stand on a highway and wave at every other bus that came our way which could accommodate the entire group. finally, when we managed to find a bus, there were two seats. I, being a trek leader had to adjust and sit on a crammed floor of a traveler just so that the rest of the team had the comfort of the seats so that they all could sleep well and save energy to complete the hike successfully on the following day.

There were times I had to carry. When a team member fell with an epileptic attack, when someone sprained their ankle or a bunch of new trekkers was all bogged down by the weight of their backpacks right in the middle of a trail, I have had to support them.

There were times when I had to convince others. The worst thing that can go wrong on a trip is to have all four tyres of your vehicle flat. With a group of thirty people, it was no joke to be stranded on a village road at midnight. When all attempts to find alternate transportation was futile, it was a leader who had to convince the team to agree into taking a tractor ride to the destination.

There were times when I had to hold the team together. When a murder took place right in front of the team, the morale of every member was shattered. Nor was I, being a trek lead prepared to face something like that. But I had to hold them all in decent spirits let not the visuals and the fear take over the minds of the remaining members.

I have had to control. Control the schedule, control the people who deviated from the rules, channel conversations and involve everyone to participate in the group.

I have had to assure anxious parents to trust me with their daughters’ safety while traveling with me and I had to assure unsure solo travelers about their apprehensions to backpack with a leader who was unknown to them. All to only come back after the trip and receive positive testimonials about me.

Being unbiased with the age, gender, caste, and economic strata with whom I interact, I have been told that I inspired people (in many ways that I do not know). My no-fuss, no allergy, and ever-willingness to try any food that looks new and the ability to snooze in any space when I am sleepy solves half the problem and makes it easy for people to connect with me, I have been told. I have been confident in my ability to adapt to absolutely any environment and figure out a way to make it a memorable journey. I have always believed that my ability to adapt and connect to people on an individual level has been my strength.

I have always believed that successful people should be able to recognize their strengths and weaknesses. No human is perfect and without shortcomings. But a true leader will work on the weaknesses and not let them bog him/her down. With an awareness of what makes him/her weak, it allows one to be better prepared to oversee a situation that might arise posing the same threats. This self-awareness is vital to being a confident leader.

Part 2: When a leader is shaken

What does it look like when the confidence of a leader is broken, when the leader is made to feel that he/she has always been wrong about himself/herself? How does it feel when the leader is made to feel that he/she was never correct?

A recent personal experience of a series of events dragged me to the edge of having an emotional breakdown. When I sat back and reflected upon the decisions, I had made in the past year which had finally gotten me to where I was at the time of this meltdown, there was a lot of self-realization I made. None of which pointed towards any evident wrong decision-making ability of mine but to the situations that were created for me to act.

Cut to August 2022, I was on an overseas business trip to a country which is considered to be on the conservative side compared to the rest of the world. I had been accompanied by a team of seven men and one girl. Despite being with such a large group, I was hit by a feeling of abandonment. It was a feeling of being unavailable for and by the people of my tribe when I needed it and of being restricted from physically going out to do things that made me happy.

It had shaken me so much that I used to have emotional meltdowns at the drop of the hat. I had begun to reanalyze and doubt all my decisions made in the last year, the on-goings, and the future ahead created by my own decisions. The situation brought with it, my inability to trust human beings in the same way that I did until stepping into the new land. I had failed as a person and all my leadership skills learnt over the last few years felt void, if it needs to be put in that perspective. All I needed was an anchor to bank myself in a land unknown across the ocean.

To me in this case, it was my boss at work who put on the hat of a leader. After spending a few weeks by then in the new country, it was the first ever interaction I was having with my boss. It was the first face-to-face interaction between us and the most basic question for any conversation to begin, I was asked about how I was doing in the new country. The most basic and simplest of questions had me shaken and the accumulated dam of emotions was broken. A word of assurance that there was someone to look up to was all I needed to get back on track, and this was one such. It was an interaction post which, I was alright and back in form to continue with my regular duties.

Lessons learnt from a leader: The first two may be generic, it is to have a good personal relationship at work or off work. The third lesson is specific to the workplace.

• A leader should be available for his team always. Whether or not related to work, it is essential to build a relationship of trust with the teammates.
• Keep clear and timely communications within the team. Whether there is a work update or not, communicate to stay connected.
• Assign clear work roles, and expectations, and follow up on progress.

Takeaways on a personal level:

• Any leader can be shaken. They too are human.
• In the end, nobody but only you will remain to care for yourself.
• Whether you see a person happy or strong, a greeting and a smile at a stranger cost you nothing but it can heal a person.

Are you rich?

You know what rich people do?

They make their money earn for them. A series of wise and sensible investments in form of real estate, development of existing real estate, deposits, shareholdings in companies, etc. People who were born with money or born rich enough are made known that it takes an effort to stay rich. Rich people have a strong enough financial backup if things go awry. It’s okay to lose a little money in the name of learning because they can afford not to repeat it.

What do people who become rich in a short duration do?

Spend their money on things and experiences they might not have had previously. They spend it like water without a thought for saving up for contingency, because they are blinded by the glitz and glamour the short fortune is showing them. They become used to the artificial sense of being rich and try to fit among the actually rich people, regardless of their personal financial background. So one fine day, when the income stops or rather their luxuries surpass their income, hell breaks loose, because they weren’t prepared for the struggle of remaining rich without a strong financial backing.

Salaried people without any strong financial background are more prone to the above scenario, when they start earning more than they what they expected in a short period of time. Not necessarily salaried people, there are lots of other people who can be like this. They fall into fake reality of being rich wherein, they are living their life on a month to month basis, solely dependent on their salary.

If you ask me which one I belong to, I honestly don’t know. I am a citizen of Bangalore born to working parents (pure middleclass upbringing). I never have money, yet I’ll have a little.

I Belong to Everywhere: Uttarahalli

This is an attempt to bring back nostalgia. Continued from- “I Belong to Everywhere: Napoklu”

‘Uttarahalli’ translates to ‘Northern Village’ in Kannada. The irony is, it is located in the southern-most part of Bangalore. This is the current place of residence of my family and is also the last post in this series. This home seems like a perfect retirement plan for a family that seeks a little bit of nature in the midst of a bustling metropolitan city.

With very little vacant space available, my parents try to grow their own vegetables and fruits, welcome birds and squirrels to have meals with them and sip their ‘kaapi’ while watching the sun go down. These are some among many other things they do to keep themselves running through the day.

The sparrows in my portico

The area is soaked in rich history as well.. While the ‘Vasantha Vallabharaya swamy temple’ dates back to the Chola era, an adjacent cave is believed to be the place where Rishi Mandavya had meditated.

The Turahalli forest is a small patch of lung space nearby, that joggers, cyclists, conservationists and the realtors all seem to have an eye on!

The latest addition to the landmarks is ISKCON’s ‘Krishna Leela theme park’ located on the Vaikunta hill. The sunrises and rainbows on cloudy days are mesmerizing, adding a backdrop to the view of this temple from my doorstep.

Annual fair of Vasanthavallabha temple, Vasanthapura, Bangalore

This is the last post of this series: “I Belong to Everywhere“. I hope you all have enjoyed time travelling with me hopping on- and off from Bangalore to Kodagu. Which place did you like the most? What place would you want to go after reading my posts? What more do you want to know about, from these places?

I Belong to Everywhere: Napoklu

This is an attempt to bring back nostalgia. Continued from- “I Belong to Everywhere: Yelahanka”

Napoklu is a small town located in Madikeri Taluk, in the northern part of Kodagu district. I have spent several memorable holidays here, living a high energy childhood. There are several places of interests for tourists and local pilgrimage that are centered around Napoklu. Some of them are ‘Sri Makki Sastavų temple’, ‘Chelavara waterfalls’ etc. The ‘puttari festival’ is one of the best and the most elaborate one celebrated by the Kodava clan native to Napoklu.

Puttari festival at Kolu Mand

If any of you find a tinge of madness in me, it is likely that it has been due to the influence of my cousin who hails from this town. He has been my closest friend as we both grew up together, roaming farms, fields and streams. On weekends when he didn’t come to our grandparents’ house in Madikeri, we would be roaming together, around the other places that are mentioned in this series of posts.

Although I have spoken about how I developed the awareness for conservation of wildlife in one of my earlier posts, but it is in Napoklu, that I originally imbibed the qualities of empathy for animals. Apart from the cattle, dogs and cats that I was surrounded with in Madikeri, my cousin had birds, fishes, tortoises, rabbits and poultry in his house. They shared a unique bond with him. While during the days, we caught dragonflies with aquarium nets, we chased fireflies at night and trapped them all together in empty glass jars to create a mini ecosystem of our own.

Beetles and ladybugs

If you wonder how I know some names of celebrities from across the globe, it is because we followed them. I watched Formula-One, WWF, Tennis and Cricket without missing a single match or a tournament, because the TV remote would always be with this guy and I had no option. The craziest automobile geek I had ever known, much until I became an automobile engineer and met a few other geeks along the way, was this cousin alone. We traded ‘trump cards’ and fought each other over the ownership rights of the rarest WWF and Cricket cards. We still hold back some of these treasured collections and often reminisce those good days of innocent fun. These are the same things that trigger little momentous joy to me even today and that which helps me spread positive energy.

To be continued as- “I Belong to Everywhere: Uttarahalli“

I Belong to Everywhere: Yelahanka

This is an attempt to bring back nostalgia. Continued from- “I Belong to Everywhere: Jalahalli”

In this post, I’m going to tell you about my connection with ‘Yelahanka’, an area located on the northern side of Bengaluru. It is rather popular for the air force station located here. And that’s also why Yelahanka has my heart with it.

This is where my engineering college was located, at very close proximity to the Airforce base. My love for airplanes has a separate post dedicated to it. This is also where the Aero- India show happens, a biennial display of India’s air might.

The campus of Nitte Meenakshi Institute of Technology

One of the camps of the Central Reserved Police Force (CRPF) is located at a little distance from my college. So, most of the morning drives to college were alongside the CRPF troops running on their daily fitness routine. The sight of camouflaged men (at least a hundred of them), marching or running in a single line, with rifles in their hands, weight bags on their backs and the tapping of their heavy boots were just enough motivation for a girl whose little heart goes numb in front of any man wearing uniform of the forces.

And then there are days when we bunked classes and we set out on adventure activities: Adventures of sneaking into random grape vineyards around the college campus, grab a few bunches before being pelted with stones by the farmers if caught 😀 It was sort of days of co-existence between the farmers / local villagers and the students. The students just lived up their share of fun from their college days and the villagers were just entertaining themselves with our tactics.

Some structures at Gantiganahalli, Yelahanka

The Yelahanka we know today wasn’t the same back then. There were hardly any good restaurants, cafes or any place where we could hangout apart from the college canteen. Some of the addas that the students would swear by are the railway tracks, the lake, the stables and Balaji. Well, mention these places to any student from this college and watch their expression: These were not just places, these were emotions.

And the most fun rides were those when we wanted to bunk classes and to find transportation to reach to wherever we wanted to go (out of Yelahanka). Back in those days, the college bus was the only available mode of transportation from college until the airport road / highway. If any commutation was required during the day (if we bunked, that is!), the only options were to either hitch a ride or walk to cover the distance of almost 4-5 kilometers. On some days we sat pillion, some days a bumpy lorry, on some days were cars with AC and some days, we sat on haystack and tractors that carried firewood.

A view of the Su-30 on the otherside of the Lake.

Yelahanka is where I have spent four memorable years of college, a place that has made me worthy of a human being and that has guided me towards earning my own food. Yelahanka will always be closest to me, because my heart will always be wandering around my college (in the form of fighter planes :P)

To be continued as- “I Belong to Everywhere: Napoklu“

I Belong to Everywhere: Jalahalli

This is an attempt to bring back nostalgia. Continued from- “I Belong to Everywhere: Theralu“

Jalahalli is a locality in the Northern part of Bengaluru where my family stayed for a brief period until I finished my graduation in Yelahanka. Being involved in sports, languages, music, travelling and so many other things along with regular college, some of the busiest days of my late teens were spent here.

On a lighter note, our family lived with a confused identity for all the years spent at Jalahalli. We were surrounded by employees of BEL and HMT in majority, and none in our family worked at either of these organizations. More often, we struggled to decide which side to take when we had friends from both these companies sitting on either side of a discussion table 😀

Above: The seven signature clocks of HMT placed in different cities of India Below: Floral clock at Lal Bagh, Bangalore

The BEL sports ground was one of our favorite places, where I accompanied my father for his evening walks and my brother for his hockey matches, while catching up on conversations with some of the who’s who of Indian hockey. The Ganesha temple in the BEL colony was one of the go-to places when my family wanted a shot of calmness, not in praying but by simply soaking in the tranquility of the silent atmosphere.

The HMT sports complex, HMT hospital, HMT theater, HMT employees’ quarters and the HMT shopping complex were less just concrete structures and more like emotions.

A racing heart while entering the ‘Jalahalli Airforce station’ would calm down only after a plate of parathas from the air force canteen and some tasty samosas and Sondesh at the Bengali sweet meat stall at Gangamma circle. Catching up with friends mostly happened on the new-BEL road or at Malleswaram.

The entrance to Jalahalli Airforce Station at Gangamma circle

Well, Jalahalli is a place which reflected the importance of having a friendly neighborhood. Even when any of us had to stay alone at home, there was always someone from the neighborhood checking on our safety and sharing food with us. The months of yuletide were especially memorable because the carol singers came to all houses and we all made merry together.

We left Jalahalli and thus, North Bengaluru to finally come one full circle by making South Bengaluru our forever home (where we currently reside at).

To be continued as “I Belong to Everywhere: Yelahanka“