After reading an excerpt in Caravan magazine, I was eager to read T.J.S. George's book with a quaint sounding title - Askew. That particular excerpt spoke of how liquor barons came to rule Bangalore and the city's crime syndicate was run by men with LLB and other college degrees! One of them even penned a memoirs about his stint in the underworld.
I had thought that George's book might be a voluminous one, but when I happened to lay my hands on it at Bookworm, I was pleasantly surprised that it was a mere hundred odd page pocket book. The book is quite a page turner for anyone interested in knowing more about Bangalore as seen through the eyes of this journalism stalwart.
George observes that every city has a soul, memories and dreams and derive their character from the values associated with them. And they go askew when they grow beyond their capacity. To prevent such an eventuality city's administrators and civil society carry out constant renewals. Often blighted god forsaken areas are converted into architectural marvels and seat of culture.
He cites examples of how New York and Hong Kong regained their balance through creativity and planning, but laments that in India the metropolitan centres went askew and remained so. Citing an example of Dharavi in Mumbai he observes that even in decadence our planners and entrepreneurs saw an opportunity for commerce by promoting slum tourism and of course the movie Slumdog Millionaire.
Though Dharavi may be the archetype of whatever went wrong with Mumbai, often touted as Asia's largest slum, but not the worst. If one bothers to take a local train from say Kurla to Vikhroli or Chembur to Mankhurd, one may come across far more festering sore spots. They may or may not be as expansive as Dharavi, but may figure much higher in the 'askew index'.
As for Bangalore George quotes William Wordsworth to say it 'began its youth in gladness but thereof came in the end despondency and madness'. The periodic frothing of Bellandur and Varthur lakes keeps reminding the city residents about the distance they have covered in their road to perdition.
George provides interesting nuggets as he takes us through a guided tour of the city. It is said that when the city's founder Kempe Gowda went on to build the capital in 1530, his mother had advised him to build lakes and plant trees. Though Kempe Gowda followed her advice scrupulously by building hundreds of lakes and leafy pathways, his present day successors have been working overtime to undo all that.
Whitefield, which currently evokes images of traffic gridlocks and frenzied construction activity, was once a quiet and an exclusive enclave for Europeans and Anglo Indians. Around 4,000 acres was alotted by Mysore Maharaja in 1881 for the settlement. It was named after one Mr D.S. White, the founder of the settlement. Until 1920s areas adjoining Whitefield was a favourite haunt for rabbit hunters.
Then he takes us through the culinary history of darshinis and Udupi hotels that currently dot every street corner of the city. He writes at length about Tulu speaking Shivalli Brahmins and their madhava style of cooking.
However he appears very abstemious while dwelling on non-vegetarian restaurants. He just nibbles on the Koshy's and their Syrian Catholic history, but gives the now ubiquitous Andhra hotels, with their 'sakkath hot' food, a total miss.
Another omission was the city's cricketing history. Bangalore has provided a steady stream of cricketers who went on to attain international fame. I doubt whether any other Indian metro has a prominent traffic circle named after a former cricketer.
Bangalore's population can be divided into two halves. Those who came here before Y2K or 2000 and those who came later. For the former it is a (pensioner's) paradise lost or as George puts it a city that has 'ceased to be a noun and became a verb' - 'Bangalored' the infamous byproduct of BPO boom.
However for those who came later, though they may happily forward WhatsApp jokes on Silk Board traffic or ubiquitous potholes and other civic maladies, they would still consider Bangalore a cool city when compared with other Indian metros.
As for George, who had come to the city during the high noon of its 'pensioners’ paradise' days, he felt that IT boom changed the city much differently from its earlier bouts of industrialization and migration. According to him the pre-IT immigrants made an effort to merge with Bangalore, but the latter were too desperate even to try. Hence the city has become a disparate mix of various linguistic and even country wise groups.
Painting a grim picture of the city he observes that the moneyed chase money and progress turns into perdition. He wants Bangaloreans to wake up before it is too late and signs off with a flourish - "Dawn does not come to the late riser".
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