<p>Nestled between the Cantonment railway station and Muslim Burial Ground (as also between the Bangalore Palace and Nandidurga Main Road) is Jayamahal Extension. In the heart of the city, yet serene and green, aptly called the ‘walker’s paradise’.<br /><br />At the centre of Jayamahal is ‘Aane Park’ with a father and baby elephant statues beside the pond, standing elegantly from so long a time that nobody knows who crafted them and when. This picture was taken in 1972 and we, the Patil sisters, are a part of it, along with my cousin Ashok. My father moved here from Mumbai in 1956 as an aftermath of re-organisation of states and my mother, going strong at 80, is no doubt the oldest resident of Jayamahal.<br />In those days, most kids in the neighbourhood (including myself) studied at Gulabi Girls High School. We gawked at a handful who went to ‘Sophayaas’ as they called it (Sophia High School). All of us walked in gangs to Gulabi’s, passing by Aane Park, with eyes stealthily looking out for lovers on the park benches, secretly envying them, what with Mills & Boon inspiring us.<br /><br />We kids went by foot everywhere fearlessly, be it to rent a cycle from MR Palya at 50 paise per hour, to buy tops and marbles or to accompany our mothers to bangle stores. In the evening, we accompanied our grandparents to Aane Park where we slided on cement slopes on either sides of the entrance and climbed its arch, while they chatted away. There were two bridges across the pond, made of wooden logs, with many an interspersed log missing which thrilled us to no end. We were greatly amused catching tadpoles thinking they were fish!<br />There are these minister’s quarters on the main road, most of whose occupants went on to become chief ministers, like Gundu Rao, J H Patel and Yeddyurappa.<br /><br /> The streets of yesteryears brimmed with joyful kids playing games. The biggest gang was on 13th Cross where our beloved Hasya Chakravarthy Narasimharaju lived. When he would come to drop his kids to school, we used to run behind him shouting ‘huchuraya huchuraya’, since this movie made by him was a rage then and most of it was shot in Jayamahal. I remember standing hours on end staring at actors Manjula and Vishnuvardhan swaying to the tunes of ‘Doora doora alle nillu nanna devare…’ with innumerable retakes.<br /><br />Once in a while, a movie would be screened in the premises of the income tax quarters. I remember watching ‘Sandhya Raga’ a Rajkumar-Bharathi starrer, repeatedly, each time tears welling when the hero coughs while singing, to a torrential flow when he dies. Every ‘Dussehra’, the Bengalis arrived and pitched a camp with Durga idols and cultural extravaganza. Though we had no idea of Bengali, we sat through the programme till the wee hours without batting an eyelid.<br /><br />From my terrace, we could see the golden lions atop Vidhana Soudha in the south and the sunset behind the tall spirals of Bangalore Palace in the west. The RTO office on first main, Shivanna stores for vegetables and Greenland stores were the landmarks which alas have ceased to be. </p>.<p><br />The air is still fresh from the orchards of the palace and quiet and solitude linger here for most part of the day like the days of yore. My eldest sister Dr Surekha is a renowned gynaecologist who retired as additional director in the health department and I am medical officer of health in the BBMP. I am truly lucky to be here ever since, for men may come and men may go, but Jayamahal remains green forever, nurturing its inmates with love and care.<br /><br />The author <br />can be contacted at nayana.patil94@gmail.com)<br /></p>
<p>Nestled between the Cantonment railway station and Muslim Burial Ground (as also between the Bangalore Palace and Nandidurga Main Road) is Jayamahal Extension. In the heart of the city, yet serene and green, aptly called the ‘walker’s paradise’.<br /><br />At the centre of Jayamahal is ‘Aane Park’ with a father and baby elephant statues beside the pond, standing elegantly from so long a time that nobody knows who crafted them and when. This picture was taken in 1972 and we, the Patil sisters, are a part of it, along with my cousin Ashok. My father moved here from Mumbai in 1956 as an aftermath of re-organisation of states and my mother, going strong at 80, is no doubt the oldest resident of Jayamahal.<br />In those days, most kids in the neighbourhood (including myself) studied at Gulabi Girls High School. We gawked at a handful who went to ‘Sophayaas’ as they called it (Sophia High School). All of us walked in gangs to Gulabi’s, passing by Aane Park, with eyes stealthily looking out for lovers on the park benches, secretly envying them, what with Mills & Boon inspiring us.<br /><br />We kids went by foot everywhere fearlessly, be it to rent a cycle from MR Palya at 50 paise per hour, to buy tops and marbles or to accompany our mothers to bangle stores. In the evening, we accompanied our grandparents to Aane Park where we slided on cement slopes on either sides of the entrance and climbed its arch, while they chatted away. There were two bridges across the pond, made of wooden logs, with many an interspersed log missing which thrilled us to no end. We were greatly amused catching tadpoles thinking they were fish!<br />There are these minister’s quarters on the main road, most of whose occupants went on to become chief ministers, like Gundu Rao, J H Patel and Yeddyurappa.<br /><br /> The streets of yesteryears brimmed with joyful kids playing games. The biggest gang was on 13th Cross where our beloved Hasya Chakravarthy Narasimharaju lived. When he would come to drop his kids to school, we used to run behind him shouting ‘huchuraya huchuraya’, since this movie made by him was a rage then and most of it was shot in Jayamahal. I remember standing hours on end staring at actors Manjula and Vishnuvardhan swaying to the tunes of ‘Doora doora alle nillu nanna devare…’ with innumerable retakes.<br /><br />Once in a while, a movie would be screened in the premises of the income tax quarters. I remember watching ‘Sandhya Raga’ a Rajkumar-Bharathi starrer, repeatedly, each time tears welling when the hero coughs while singing, to a torrential flow when he dies. Every ‘Dussehra’, the Bengalis arrived and pitched a camp with Durga idols and cultural extravaganza. Though we had no idea of Bengali, we sat through the programme till the wee hours without batting an eyelid.<br /><br />From my terrace, we could see the golden lions atop Vidhana Soudha in the south and the sunset behind the tall spirals of Bangalore Palace in the west. The RTO office on first main, Shivanna stores for vegetables and Greenland stores were the landmarks which alas have ceased to be. </p>.<p><br />The air is still fresh from the orchards of the palace and quiet and solitude linger here for most part of the day like the days of yore. My eldest sister Dr Surekha is a renowned gynaecologist who retired as additional director in the health department and I am medical officer of health in the BBMP. I am truly lucky to be here ever since, for men may come and men may go, but Jayamahal remains green forever, nurturing its inmates with love and care.<br /><br />The author <br />can be contacted at nayana.patil94@gmail.com)<br /></p>
