Speeding past life

Expressways, white-topped roads, flyovers, metros, and 8-lane highways have all been in the news across the media. ‘You can reach Mysore from Bangalore in 75 minutes,' screamed a news report. I was sure this was an exaggeration.

Last month, we drove to Mysore, and I was all excited about zooming on the new expressway just three days before it was formally inaugurated. Of course, it took us 90 minutes to reach Kengeri from Yelahanka, but I was stunned by the drive on a smooth expressway, which felt no less than a freeway in the US or the wonderful highways of Europe. In no time, we were passing by the nostalgic rocks of Ramanagara, where the Dream Girl had danced over broken glass pieces to Gabbar's commands in Sholay!

‘What, Ramanagara? Incredible! In 40 minutes!' I exclaimed. Very soon, I saw the Cauvery of Srirangapatna at a distance! Yes, we reached Mysore in 75 minutes flat! None of us was tired of the journey, which was smoother than our journeys from North to South Bangalore. Nobody needed a bathroom stop or a coffee break! It is a fantastic road, and Nitin Gadkari really needs to be applauded!

But something was amiss. Back in the 1980s and 1990s, a trip to Mysore meant a lot of excitement. We used to drive to Mysore at least three or four times a year, and each journey was enjoyable. My father-in-law, who lost his vision towards the end of his life, would be excited to return to his native. He would note the time of departure and go, "Are we at Kengal? I think we are now taking a turn towards Chennapatna; isn’t this Maddur?" We would be surprised at his accurate guesses. Was there an aroma to these places that he sensed and we didn't?

The best part of the drive were the huge trees—banyan, peepal, tamarind, raintree, and so many more—on either side, and the lush fields and orchards beyond that stretched till the horizon, dotted in between by small towns. Children could see sugarcane, paddy, vegetables, coconut groves, fruit orchards, raagi, and more crops for real that they see only in text books or movies today! All the vehicles would definitely stop over to drink the fresh, tender coconuts, buy fresh fruits and vegetables sold by the farmers immediately after harvest, and have breakfast or lunch at one of the many good highway hotels. The famous Maddur vadas were a much-awaited treat! There was no ignoring the lure of the colourful Channapatna toys and decorative items.

A trip to Mysore, thus, was more like an enchanting tour to faraway lands. All that is lost now! We don’t see any towns on the way; there are no highway hotels, stores, or vendors unless we take the exit and go down. Though such expressways are a boon for regular travellers and businessmen, I miss the shaded avenues and all the fun we had on the way!