The studio days

From the albums

Where do you want your photograph to be clicked? In front of Rashtrapathi Bhavan, Vidhana Soudha or Taj Mahal? Considering the fact that these monuments are in different cities, the idea may sound ridiculous. But back in the 80s, it was possible thanks to the numerous photo studios present in an exhibition. Those days, a photo studio was a major attraction — a good camera was a rarity and moreover, people had implicit faith in photographers who displayed their skills in a modest studio.

This photograph was clicked in the early 80s in one such studio in Bengaluru which had posters of monuments as background. Since it is a black and white photo (thankfully), our eyes are spared from the onslaught of the kitschy colours surrounding the Rashtrapathi Bhavan!

My mother KS Ratna later told me that we chose Rashtrapathi Bhavan as my grandmother, Late Susheelamma, had not visited Delhi and this was her way of fulfilling her desire to visit the national capital. My granny, who passed away around six months ago, was a simple person with child-like enthusiasm. In fact, she would always be the first one to get ready for an outing. My parents also took us out always without my sister or me having to pester them to do so.

Born in Bengaluru, I did my primary schooling in Sri Aurobindo Memorial School here. We then moved to Mysuru as my father got a transfer. Over there, I studied in St Joseph’s School. Even in Mysuru, these photo studios were a huge hit especially in the Dasara exhibition. We then moved to Mumbai and then back to Bengaluru, where I did my PUC and degree from NMKRV followed by Masters in Mass Communication from Central
College.

We led a simple life in green and serene Jayanagar and though I had few friends, they were really good ones. Of these, I remember Siddhi who used to live in 4th Block and our neighbour Dr Uma, who is now in London. I remember going to a photo studio even in the early 90s, with my friends, at the famous ‘Cake Exhibition’ in Bengaluru. 

Back in those simple days, a visit to the exhibition was nothing less than a picnic. Getting ready to go there was as exciting as sitting on a giant wheel! My grandmother would pick the finest sari in her wardrobe while my aunt Vasudha Gopal would make sure that my cousin Sandhya wore the best frock regardless of her howling and protests.

My mother never failed to make a fashion statement. The glares she is wearing are a proof of this! Alas, the same thing can’t be said about yours truly! I had chosen to wear this particular frock probably for the nth time that week. It was close to my heart and my mother recalls that I never even allowed her to wash it! My sister on the contrary was immaculately dressed. Never one to throw a tantrum, she was a personification of the famous rhyme — ‘Chubby cheeks, dimple chin’. Even to this day, I consult her while buying clothes and accessories.

Coming back to the ‘infamous’ frock, once we returned home, my mother waited for everyone to fall asleep and promptly transformed my frock into a mopping cloth! I was grief-stricken the next morning when I learnt the truth. But my sadness soon turned into a delight when my parents promised to buyme a similar looking frock and more joyrides in the exhibition.

Today, my mother is a retired banker while my aunt looks forward to spending time with her daughter and five-year old grandson whenever they visit Bengaluru. My sister is happily married and settled in Canada while I am married to a naval officer and have lived in almost every coastal town across the peninsula.       Each one of us is busy in our own lives. Forget about an outing, even a family get-together has become an unattainable task. However, my husband and I make it a point to take our children to the ‘Dasara’ exhibition in Mysuru every year and relive our childhood days.

In the days of yore, kids and adults alike derived immense joy from simple things probably because distractions like cable TV, Facebook, WhatsApp and electronic gadgets were non-existant. Spending time with family, bonding with neighbours or friends was gratifying enough.

Indeed, a treasure trove of memories gets captured for posterity in photographs like this. Browsing through albums is not just a pastime but an avocation to seek happiness in the simple things of life.

Rohini S Murthy
(Rohini can be reached at [e-mail])
(As told to Deepa Natarajan Lobo)