<p>Cubbon Park has been a place to visit and enjoy through each of my seven decades, which awakens memories and experiences of happy times spent there. As a little girl on summer vacation at my grandparents’ home on Grant Road, now renamed Vittal Mallya Road, walking across with siblings and cousins every morning to play in the park for a few hours was a regular feature. The Bamboo Grove lay amidst a wealth of rocks one could scramble over, and stagnant pools gave scope to trap tadpoles or sail empty silk cotton pod “boats” that fell in plenty to the ground. Tapping rubber and rolling it over a stone to make a ball was another thrill. And if the ball was somewhat round and bounced, that was an achievement!</p>.<p>During our early teens, we explored the park a bit more, learning to ride bicycles and climb trees to knock off their green mangoes, kirks, guavas, and tamarind. We’d hide and seek, maybe “twos and threes,” “holly colly,” “Gilli dandu,” or seven tiles. </p>.<p>Cubbon Park transformed into a romantic haven when we were in our twenties, with undisturbed little cosy nooks for a rendezvous. Early morning scooter rides culminated in a sumptuous South Indian breakfast at the KSTDC restaurant near the Central Library. Picnics were common, and as marriage and parenthood took over in the following decades, gangs of us Fraser Town families and friends would spend an afternoon in a quiet, shady spot, carrying homemade fare for lunch and tea. The older folks merited the benches, and the rest sprawled out on the grass. Energetic games like French cricket and throwball would later give place to ‘dumb charades’, ‘coffee potting’ and housie, after lunch and a laze. The kids, of course, would indulge in delights similar to those we enjoyed when we were their age. The ‘instant’, ‘readymade’ cultures were yet to make their entries. With a guitar taken along, we’d make our own music and create our own fun.</p>.<p>I remember once riding there during my lunchtime from my office on KG Road to glimpse the Davis Cup match at the KSLTA Stadium in this park. I was so thrilled watching greats and handsomes like Premjit Lal, Jaideep Mukherjee, and Ramanathan Krishnan in action that I forgot the passing afternoon and realised it was beyond bank closing time before I rushed back and begged my boss to forgive my truancy.</p>.<p>On many an evening we would drive to the park for cotton candy, or “bhutta,” and to give the kids some rides and spills in the Bal Bhavan area. For a while, there were Sunday concerts too, which we’d enjoy at the bandstand. I’d sometimes sneak a drive to an area beyond the Press Club to savour the flavours of my favourite pani puri and kulfi sellers.</p>.<p>Currently, Cubbon Park users are fighting for continued undisturbed space, so please let’s hang on to our heritage. No more restrictions there, please!</p>
<p>Cubbon Park has been a place to visit and enjoy through each of my seven decades, which awakens memories and experiences of happy times spent there. As a little girl on summer vacation at my grandparents’ home on Grant Road, now renamed Vittal Mallya Road, walking across with siblings and cousins every morning to play in the park for a few hours was a regular feature. The Bamboo Grove lay amidst a wealth of rocks one could scramble over, and stagnant pools gave scope to trap tadpoles or sail empty silk cotton pod “boats” that fell in plenty to the ground. Tapping rubber and rolling it over a stone to make a ball was another thrill. And if the ball was somewhat round and bounced, that was an achievement!</p>.<p>During our early teens, we explored the park a bit more, learning to ride bicycles and climb trees to knock off their green mangoes, kirks, guavas, and tamarind. We’d hide and seek, maybe “twos and threes,” “holly colly,” “Gilli dandu,” or seven tiles. </p>.<p>Cubbon Park transformed into a romantic haven when we were in our twenties, with undisturbed little cosy nooks for a rendezvous. Early morning scooter rides culminated in a sumptuous South Indian breakfast at the KSTDC restaurant near the Central Library. Picnics were common, and as marriage and parenthood took over in the following decades, gangs of us Fraser Town families and friends would spend an afternoon in a quiet, shady spot, carrying homemade fare for lunch and tea. The older folks merited the benches, and the rest sprawled out on the grass. Energetic games like French cricket and throwball would later give place to ‘dumb charades’, ‘coffee potting’ and housie, after lunch and a laze. The kids, of course, would indulge in delights similar to those we enjoyed when we were their age. The ‘instant’, ‘readymade’ cultures were yet to make their entries. With a guitar taken along, we’d make our own music and create our own fun.</p>.<p>I remember once riding there during my lunchtime from my office on KG Road to glimpse the Davis Cup match at the KSLTA Stadium in this park. I was so thrilled watching greats and handsomes like Premjit Lal, Jaideep Mukherjee, and Ramanathan Krishnan in action that I forgot the passing afternoon and realised it was beyond bank closing time before I rushed back and begged my boss to forgive my truancy.</p>.<p>On many an evening we would drive to the park for cotton candy, or “bhutta,” and to give the kids some rides and spills in the Bal Bhavan area. For a while, there were Sunday concerts too, which we’d enjoy at the bandstand. I’d sometimes sneak a drive to an area beyond the Press Club to savour the flavours of my favourite pani puri and kulfi sellers.</p>.<p>Currently, Cubbon Park users are fighting for continued undisturbed space, so please let’s hang on to our heritage. No more restrictions there, please!</p>