<p>My octogenarian friend, G R Murthy, often regales me with tales from the past. Recently, when we mulled over the old days, sipping coffee at the iconic Koshy’s, on Bengaluru’s St Mark’s Road, he recounted the bus travel back in the 1950s, which set the pulse racing.</p>.<p>Back then, Murthy and his parents would visit Penukonda for the summer holidays. His maternal grandfather, a collector by profession, lived there with his kith and kin in a sprawling bungalow. With the large gathering of uncles, aunts, and cousins, it was time for fun, frolic, and picnics to the nearest tourist spots in a bus.</p>.<p>Murthy’s eyes lit up as he recalled the rides in a steam-powered bus to Anantapur, 60 minutes away from Penukonda. The family rose early to prepare lunch and snacks for the journey. Although the elders had travelled in the steam-powered bus earlier, it was new for Murthy and his brother. Unlike today’s fuel-powered buses, the vehicle ran on steam. Massive firewood logs would be fed to a rear furnace to heat the water. Prudent passengers chose seats wisely to shield themselves and their clothes from getting covered in flying ash. People in the car’s rear had to bear the embarrassment of having their faces and clothing smeared with ash. The journey cost a few annas, but the children found it unique. Steam-powered buses are now history.</p>.<p>Murthy also fondly recollects his travels from his home in Basavanagudi to his workplace at the State Bank of India on Madras Bank Road (now State Bank Road). Shivaji Rao Gaekwad, who would eventually become renowned as the Tamil cinema superstar Rajinikanth, initially worked as a bus conductor on this route. Rajinikanth astounded travellers by issuing tickets with a flourish and returning the change in his signature style. Passengers often preferred to board the bus when Rajinikanth was on duty, causing other buses to ply empty. The celluloid hero was adept at pulling crowds and entertaining them, even during his conductor days!</p>.<p>Following Rajinikanth’s entry into the film industry, the conductor who took his place was also popular for his extraordinary usage of Kannada and announcing the names of bus stops. Nowadays, a device performs the job of announcing the name of the destination as a recorded voice.</p>.<p>There was very little traffic in those days. Factory buses had wooden benches for seats, making for arduous, long journeys. During bus delays, the cycle rickshaw and horse tonga were dependable choices. Even at a leisurely trot, one could reach their destination in time. Travelling on the upper deck of a double-decker bus or commuting by road train snaking through the streets was a thrilling experience.</p>.<p>Today, despite the abundance of transport to get us to our destination, one has to go through the wringer. The frenzied crowds, congested roads, toxic air, and stoplights every few metres make travelling a strenuous experience. We desire to go back to the days when life was less hurried!</p>
<p>My octogenarian friend, G R Murthy, often regales me with tales from the past. Recently, when we mulled over the old days, sipping coffee at the iconic Koshy’s, on Bengaluru’s St Mark’s Road, he recounted the bus travel back in the 1950s, which set the pulse racing.</p>.<p>Back then, Murthy and his parents would visit Penukonda for the summer holidays. His maternal grandfather, a collector by profession, lived there with his kith and kin in a sprawling bungalow. With the large gathering of uncles, aunts, and cousins, it was time for fun, frolic, and picnics to the nearest tourist spots in a bus.</p>.<p>Murthy’s eyes lit up as he recalled the rides in a steam-powered bus to Anantapur, 60 minutes away from Penukonda. The family rose early to prepare lunch and snacks for the journey. Although the elders had travelled in the steam-powered bus earlier, it was new for Murthy and his brother. Unlike today’s fuel-powered buses, the vehicle ran on steam. Massive firewood logs would be fed to a rear furnace to heat the water. Prudent passengers chose seats wisely to shield themselves and their clothes from getting covered in flying ash. People in the car’s rear had to bear the embarrassment of having their faces and clothing smeared with ash. The journey cost a few annas, but the children found it unique. Steam-powered buses are now history.</p>.<p>Murthy also fondly recollects his travels from his home in Basavanagudi to his workplace at the State Bank of India on Madras Bank Road (now State Bank Road). Shivaji Rao Gaekwad, who would eventually become renowned as the Tamil cinema superstar Rajinikanth, initially worked as a bus conductor on this route. Rajinikanth astounded travellers by issuing tickets with a flourish and returning the change in his signature style. Passengers often preferred to board the bus when Rajinikanth was on duty, causing other buses to ply empty. The celluloid hero was adept at pulling crowds and entertaining them, even during his conductor days!</p>.<p>Following Rajinikanth’s entry into the film industry, the conductor who took his place was also popular for his extraordinary usage of Kannada and announcing the names of bus stops. Nowadays, a device performs the job of announcing the name of the destination as a recorded voice.</p>.<p>There was very little traffic in those days. Factory buses had wooden benches for seats, making for arduous, long journeys. During bus delays, the cycle rickshaw and horse tonga were dependable choices. Even at a leisurely trot, one could reach their destination in time. Travelling on the upper deck of a double-decker bus or commuting by road train snaking through the streets was a thrilling experience.</p>.<p>Today, despite the abundance of transport to get us to our destination, one has to go through the wringer. The frenzied crowds, congested roads, toxic air, and stoplights every few metres make travelling a strenuous experience. We desire to go back to the days when life was less hurried!</p>