A recent visit to the Bengaluru East Ground in Fraser Town rekindled old memories. Besides being a favourite hunting ground during my salad days, the field was famous for the Independence and Republic Day Football and Hockey tournaments, which drew spectators in droves. Lately, floodlit tennis ball cricket contests have gained currency, and an attractive purse is awarded to the victors. The generous organisers ensure it’s a grand affair, showering expensive gifts on the outstanding players!
On this same ground, my uncles, siblings and I sharpened our Hockey skills, enabling us to represent our organisations in the sport successfully. Playing marbles (how many children play it today?) was one of our favourite pastimes. The game helped us fine tune our aim and strengthen our focus and concentration.
My younger sibling and I went out to play with a few marbles. Still, we returned with our pockets bursting at the seams, only to see our infuriated father toss them into the conservancy lane. I also played Volleyball over a Football goalpost using a tennis ball, placing small bets with the opponents. However, I had to split the winnings with my younger siblings at the end of the day. The reason was to prevent them from reporting the ‘dark secret’ to my parents!
Drama troupes presented plays based on Hindu mythology, and street performers did their thing at the East Ground. Area residents recall a cyclist wheeling in circles, showing manoeuvres on his bicycle. We wondered if he paused for washroom breaks since he never stepped away from his vehicle. As he pedalled, he even managed to grab a quick bite, wash his hands or even change his shirt to the cheers of the onlookers.
I had some creepy experiences, like finding human torsos on the train tracks beside the ground and watching tribal people bashing ducks on the stone benches before devouring them. However, what transpired in early February 1969 was mind-boggling.
Tamil Nadu Chief Minister C N Annadurai, popularly known as Anna, succumbed to cancer. His fame stemmed from legalising ‘self-respect’ marriages, enforcing a two-language policy (in preference to the three-language formula in other southern states), implementing subsidies for rice, and renaming the Madras State to Tamil Nadu.
The news of Anna’s death spread like wildfire, plunging his fans into grief. Thousands of Tamils living in Bengaluru left for Madras city (now Chennai) to pay their last respects to the departed leader. The railway station was a sea of humanity as people clambered onto any train that arrived. Anna’s admirers occupied every inch of space on the platform and coaches.
The trains were packed like a can of sardines, as commuters thronged to grab every available space. Those who couldn’t fit into the coaches made the journey precariously perched on the train’s roof. But this proved suicidal as scores of travellers lost their lives during the trip.
An estimated 15 million people attended Anna’s funeral, making it to the Guinness Book of World Records. Framed images of the late Tamil Nadu leader popped up on Bengaluru’s street corners. Anna’s followers adorned his portraits with kumkum and garlands, lit oil lamps and offered prayers. We witnessed extraordinary scenes of followers wailing and beating their chests at the loss of their beloved leader. I was only a chit of a boy then, but revisiting those yesteryears has a special allure.
