New Year’s Eve in Belgrade and Bangalore

ONE YEAR DURING THE 1980s, I was in Belgrade, then the capital of Yugoslavia, on New Year’s Eve. I was staying with my good friend Raša Raićevič. He suggested that we should see in the new year at a friend’s flat I New Belgrade.

Before we set off from his flat in the older part of the city, Raša warned me to keep away from windows and off the terrace as the midnight hour approached. In the 1980s, many retired military people resided in New Belgrade, and quite a few of them possessed firearms. It was customary in those days to fire the guns at the moment a new year commenced. The risk was that ricocheting bullets might break windows or hit people out on their terraces and balconies. Fortunately, we survived the evening without mishaps, and spent the first few hours of the new year at another friend’s home, a long taxi ride away from New Belgrade.

Many years later, sometime after 2006, we were in Bangalore over New Year. My wife and I stayed at home with my recently widowed mother-in-law, who was too frail to attend a party. Everyone else in the family went out to celebratory parties.

The three of us, who remained at home, decided that we would sit together until midnight. However, by about 10 pm on the 31st of December, we all fell asleep. It was only when our daughter phoned us at 3 am that we realised we had slept through the transition from one year to the next.

My New Year’s Eve spent in Belgrade was a complete contrast to that which we slept through in Bangalore. This evening, we plan to have a slap-up dinner followed by drinks under the stars high above the city of Bangalore. I hope that all of you, dear readers, will have a great 2024.

Shops and shrines on a busy road in old Bangalore

I KNOW OF TWO Avenue Roads. One is in London. Lined with the homes of the wealthy, it runs between Swiss Cottage and Regents Park. The other one is in Bangalore. It runs between KR Market (aka City Market) and a large Hindu temple (mandir) where Kempe Gowda Road becomes District Office Road. Both the road in London and its namesake in Bangalore carry much traffic, but there the similarity ends.

Avenue Road in Bangalore (‘AR’) is mainly lined with all kinds of shops, especially those dealing in paper goods (stationery as well as printed books). It runs through one of the oldest parts of the city: Chickpet. The lines of shops are punctuated by small lanes and alleys that lead away from AR.

Old pillars in a mandir on Avenue Road in Bangalore

As you stroll along the thoroughfare, you will pass mandirs and one church. And near the KR Market end of the road, a short lane leads to a Muslim shrine, the Dargah-e-Hazrath Manik Mastan Sha Saherwadi. It is well worth removing your footwear to enter this peaceful place. The grave it contains is in a small room with a mirrored, domed ceiling.

Some of the mandirs on or near AR are also worth looking into. Although some of their facades look fairly recent, the carved stone columns within the buildings look quite old. Near the street entrance of one of the mandirs on AR, I saw two intricate stone carvings of Hindu subjects. Both looked as if they might have been carved several centuries ago.

The Rice Memorial Church stands in its own small grounds, separated more from its neighbours than the mandirs on AR. Named after the British missionary, the Rev Benjamin Holt Rice, this Church of South India place of worship was built between 1913 and 1916 on the site of an earlier chapel first constructed in 1834, and then later rebuilt before being demolished. Although I have passed it often, I have not yet been able to enter it.

Not far from the church and a couple of picturesque mandirs, there is a branch of the Kamat chain of eateries. You can stop there for snacks and a variety of beverages. This place is in the midst of the numerous bookshops on AR. Proclaiming discounted books, these stores mainly stock textbooks and computer programming instruction manuals. Incidentally, AR is a good place to find a wide variety of diaries and calendars.

Bustling Avenue Road in Bangalore is a far more colourful and interesting thoroughfare than its rather elegant but staid namesake more than 5000 miles away in London. The street in Bangalore and the lanes leading off it give one a good idea of the ‘flavour’ of the parts of the city which existed before the arrival of the British imperialists. It makes a fascinating contrast to the newer Cantonment areas that became established after the British began settling in Bangalore.

Protesting about lettering in Bangalore

Happy New Year!

KANNADA IS THE language spoken by the indigenous people of the Indian State of Karnataka. It is a Dravidian language spoken by about 44 million ‘natives’ of Karnataka and a 2nd or 3rd language for about 15 million ‘non-natives’.

The city of Bangalore is home to many people who either know no Kannada or for whom the language is not their ‘mother tongue’. Consequently many shop signs in the city either have no Kannada or have both English and Kannada lettering.

At the end of February 2024, it will be a legal obligation for all shop signs in Karnataka to have at least 60% of their coverage in Kannada script (currently, the requirement is 50%). However, for some fanatic Kannada nationalists this is not soon enough. On the 27th of December 2023, a few lorries loaded with men toured Bangalore. They stopped outside shops and attempted, often successfully, to damage or destroy the English lettering on shop signs. They did this not only to those signs which were entirely in the English script, but also to some bilingual signs (I.e., signs with both English and Kannada script). Not only did they damage or disfigure the English script, but in some cases, they also smashed windows.

Defaced shop sign

The police attempted to restrain these pro-Kannada activists. A few of them have been arrested. However, two days later I read that further unrest in Bangalore is threatened if those who have been arrested are not released.

While I sympathise with locals being upset that many of those who have come to Karnataka from elsewhere have little or no knowledge of Kannada, vandalism is no way to promote usage of the language and its script.

A collection of colourful saree textiles in Bangalore

ONE OF THE THINGS that struck me when I first visited India in January 1994 was how everyone was wearing clothing far more colourful than anywhere else I had been before. Wherever I have been in the country, there is a feast of colourful clothing to be seen. Whether the colourful garments are worn purely for aesthetic reasons and/or for ceremonial or group identity reasons, everywhere there is much to please the eye.

I am not alone in noticing the Indian penchant for wearing bright colours. In 1956, the famous style ‘diva’ Diana Vreeland noted in British Vogue magazine: “… pink is the navy blue of India …”. Following from this, an article in India’s “Economic Times” of January 2022, pointed out that “Red is the Indian beige and yellow is the Indian grey…”. In other words, that the exuberant colours worn by Indians contrast dramatically with the much more drab colours currently worn in the West. Actually, as my wife pointed out, long ago in Europe (eg the 18th century and before) clothes – especially those worn by the wealthy and the aristocracy – were far more colourful than now.

On the 23rd of December 2023, we were fortunate to get admission to an exhibition of sarees on its last day. Intriguingly entitled “Red Lilies, Water Birds”, the show was hosted by The Registry of Sarees in a house on Hayes Road in Bangalore. The Registry (established in 2016) is a trust set up by the Mysore Saree Udyog (founded in 1932). Its purpose is to promote the study, design, and conservation of handspun and handwoven textiles.

The nine rooms of the exhibition contained about 84 examples from the Registry’s much larger collection. Each room concentrated on either a particular region of India, or a specific method of creating the textiles. Every room was filled with sarees, which filled the viewer’s eyes with richly coloured, intricately patterned delights.

Many of the visitors to the exhibition, and the staff looking after, and explaining, the show were wearing clothing that demonstrated what I mentioned at the outset – namely, the preference of many Indians to dress colourfully.

Where a famous botanist from Germany used to lecture in Bangalore

DURING AN EXCELLENTLY guided walk through Bangalore’s Lalbagh botanical garden, I saw many parts of the place I had never seen before on several previous visits. One of these new ‘discoveries’ was a small neoclassical building with a triangular pediment on which the ganderberunda (double-headed eagle) of Mysore can be seen in bas-relief.

Painted with deep red paint, this small edifice is a recent reconstruction of Krumbiegel Hall, which was first built over 100 years ago (some say in 1860). For many years the original building was neglected, and it fell to pieces. In about 2020, it was rebuilt according to the original plans. So, today it looks brand new.

Gustav Hermann Krumbiegel (1865-1956) was born in Germany near Dresden. He was a botanist and garden designer who came to India in 1893, after having worked in London’s Kew Gardens. He helped to develop the Lalbagh Garden into the wonderful place it has become. Apart from designing the gardens, he introduced many interesting and exotic plants into Lalbagh. His importance in the development of the botanical garden cannot be overestimated.

The original building was used to hold lectures. Krumbiegel was one of those who spoke there. He used to enjoy practicing his speeches and talks in the hall. The construction of the replica of the original hall was stimulated in no little way by the campaigning of Krumbiegel’s great granddaughter, Alyia, who resides in south London.

When I saw the hall yesterday (22nd of December 2023), it was locked up and in front of it were a couple of lamps stands awaiting election. One day, I hope that I will be able to attend a lecture in this hall that has been replicated on the footprint of that which Krumbiegel would have used.

A war memorial in the heart of Bangalore: they died for the British Empire

ON ARMISTICE DAY (11th of November 2023), we stopped to look at the war memorial that stands in a busy part of Bangalore, where Brigade Road crosses Residency Road. Erected in about 1928, its design was somewhat influenced by Lutyens’s famous Cenotaph in London’s Whitehall. Actually, it has a greater resemblance to the memorial clock tower in London’s Golders Green, where I was brought up.

Bangalore

The four-sided memorial in Bangalore is to commemorate the members of the Pioneers, who died in WW1. However, it also records other earlier campaigns that claimed the lives of Pioneers The Pioneers, more correctly the regiments of the ‘Madras Pioneers’, were established by the British in the 18th century, and later became known as the Madras Sappers. More details are to be found in an article in the hindu.com :
“A glance at some historical documents shows that the 61st Pioneers originated in 1758 and were raised as the 1st Battalion Coast Sepoys which became the 61st Pioneers in 1901 and later became the 1st Battalion of the 1st Madras Pioneers in 1922. The 64th Pioneers also originated in 1758 as the 5th Battalion Coast Sepoys and became the 2nd Battalion of the 1st Madras Pioneers in 1922. The 81st Pioneers stood apart and originated in 1786 as the 28th Madras Battalion and later became the 10th (Training) Battalion of the 1st Madras Pioneers in 1922.”

Apart from WW1, the monument records other campaigns that were fought so that the British could consolidate their Empire. These include (to mention but a few named on the memorial): Mysore, Seringapatam, Nagpur, Afghanistan (1878-80), Burma (1885-87), and China (1900). For some of these conflicts the numbers of men lost are recorded. Numbers of English and Indian fatalities are listed separately.

When we visited the monument on Armistice Day, we saw two fresh wreaths at its base. One had a label attached, which said it had been placed by the French Consulate in Bangalore. The other had no words but it bore ribbon with the colours on the flag of Germany. There was neither an Indian nor a British wreath to be seen.

Vincent Van Gogh on a wall in India

YOU CAN SEE MURALS painted on walls throughout the Indian city of Bangalore (and in many other places in India). These paintings transform otherwise boring walls into something worth looking at.

Today, the 12th of November 2023 – Diwali, I visited Airlines Hotel in Bangalore. This place has an alfresco café and a large parking area. I saw some young people painting a mural. The design they were creating was a copy of a picture on the screen of a tablet or ipad. The building on which they were painting faces a long wall that marks the boundary of both the car park and the Airlines compound.

Since we last visited Airlines in February 2023, the boundary wall has been covered with a long painted mural. At first sight, this colourful painting brings to mind the work of the Dutch artist Vincent Van Gogh, who died long before it was made.

Though it resembles the style of the Dutch artist, on closer examination you can easily tell it is not by him. But its creator has certainly done a good job capturing the essence of Van Gogh’s style, and has livened up a hitherto unsightly, high breeze block wall. The other murals adorning the compound are visually engaging, but not as much as the Airlines “Van Gogh “

An unusual “Christmas tree” in a garden in Bangalore

WHENEVER I THINK ABOUT Christmas trees, I envisage a smallish pine tree that is roughly conical in shape. Today, I noticed a tall conifer growing in a garden in Bangalore. Attached to it there was a metal label identifying it as “Christmas tree. Araucaria cookei.” This tree bore no resemblance to any Christmas tree I have ever seen.

I used the Internet to look up ‘Aracauria cookei’, and learned that it is commonly known as ‘Captain Cook’s Pine’. It was first ‘discovered in New Caledonia by a botanist travelling with Captain Cook on his Second Voyage (between 1772 and 1775).

One botanical website revealed that when planted in a pot, this tree can be used as an alternative to regular Christmas trees. Other websites describing this plant make no mention of this. In any case, the specimen I saw labelled in Bangalore was taller than an average three-storey building. It was far too tall to be used as a Christmas tree.

Eating off a banana leaf in the south of India

DURING OUR HONEYMOON in 1994, we travelled around places in southern India. At one point, we had to change trains at Coimbatore in Tamil Nadu state. With a few hours to spare, we ate dinner at a modest small restaurant near the station.

At Bheema’s restaurant in Bangalore

We sat down and banana leaves were placed on the table in front of us. These served as plates. There was no menu. A waiter hurried around the restaurant, stopping next to each diner and placing dollops of vegetarian culinary preparations on the leaves. He returned and placed a pile of steamed rice next to the mounds of vegetable items. He kept running from table to table, replenishing foods as required by the diners. This seemingly endless distribution of food set us back a total of 12 Rupees, which in 1994 was about £0.40 (yes, 40 pence). The coffee we drank at the end of the meal was the same price.

Yesterday, the 9th of November 2023, I was reminded of this experience whilst watching a waiter serving Andhra style vegetable preparations on a banana leaf in Bheema’s restaurant on Bangalore’s Church Street. Naturally, the meal cost a lot more than we paid in Coimbatore in 1994, but it was still very good value.

A café under the banyan trees in Bangalore

AIRLINES HOTEL IN BANGALORE has an outdoor seating area where you can enjoy beverages and South Indian vegetarian dishes, seated beneath venerable banyan trees.

You can read more about this popular, charming ‘al fresco’ café in my book of tales about travels in India. It is available from Amazon ( e.g., https://www.amazon.co.uk/HITLER-LOCK-OTHER-TALES-INDIA/dp/B0CFM5JNX5/ ) AND ALSO (if you live in India) from https://store.pothi.com/book/adam-yamey-hitler-lock-and-other-tales-india/