Nearly 40 years have passed since Bessie the Bicycle and I landed in
Madras—now Chennai—on my first visit to India. I’ve returned many times since
over the years and covered the length and breadth of the subcontinent on a
bicycle and with public transport. Now I’m back after a three-year Covid-19
pause. Last year with great difficulty I obtained a 10-year Indian visa, so now
I can come and go until 2032 when—gasp—I’ll be 80 years old.
I decided
to focus on South India for this trip. One incentive is to meet a friend from my
first visit, Susindar, who had been a senior college student when we met in the
temple town of Chidambaram in December 1983. He’s good at remembering names and
got hold of me through internet searches. During the many years since we met he
has gotten married, raised two daughters, had a varied career as a business man,
and is currently living in Chennai. He invited me to join him, his wife, and
youngest daughter Sanju on February 18th in the temple town of Trichy in Tamil
Nadu state, where Sanju would be performing Bharatanatyam dances at two temple
venues.
14 February Bengaluru
On Valentine’s Day afternoon I got on
the Airbus A321neo of IndiGo Flight 6E 76 from Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport
for a smooth 3½ hours to Bengaluru. Better known by its old name ‘Bangalore,’
it’s the capital of Karnataka state and famed for IT and aviation industries. I
had enjoyed the art museums, historic sites, and botanical garden here five
years ago and looked forward to a repeat visit. Despite the high-tech
industries, the roads in and around the city are old and creaky with far more
traffic than they can bear, and I had to endure a long and slow taxi ride to my
Airbnb room near the center. For dinner I walked over to Tandoori Wok in the
hotel Apple Villa for a vegetable kholapuri, a bit too oily.
15 February
Bengaluru
Winter brings delightful weather at the city’s 900-meter
(3,000-foot) elevation, and I enjoyed blue skies and pleasant temperatures each
day. I headed to Karnataka Chitrakala Parishath, the city’s largest and most
diverse art museum, and began at Roerich Gallery 1 (Himalayan Studies) to see
memorable paintings by Russian painter Nicholas Roerich. And there’s a second
Roerich gallery—that of his son Svetoslav—with a variety of appealing portraits
and landscapes. Other galleries show the development of Modern Art in India with
a great many examples of paintings and sculpture by multiple artists. Folk art
appears in a multitude of styles, and there’s a room dedicated to wooden and
leather puppets. I took a lunch break of a South Indian thali at a restaurant on
the museum campus, then returned to see the rest of the exhibits including two
temporary exhibitions. In one of these I got to meet the artist S. Jagannivasam
at his show of colorful paintings entitled “Cosmic Urban Connect.”
In
late afternoon I hopped on a three-wheeler taxi farther north to Iskon Temple, a
lively place with a mix of traditional and contemporary architecture run by the
Hare Krishnas. The entrance path leads past several small shrines to the main
temple where colorfully dressed and garlanded images of Krishna and other
deities stand bathed in bright lights. Musicians and a singer seated on the
floor offered devotional music. From the main temple I followed the exit path
past a host of souvenir and sweet shops, where I picked up a couple samosas and
a rasmalai (Indian sweet of cheesy disks soaked in sweetened milk).
From
the temple I walked to a nearby Metro station, then rode the elevated train to
MG (Mahatma Gandi) Road, the city’s commercial center. People shoving to get on
the carriage made for an unpleasant transfer on the way. Lastly I walked back to
my Airbnb room, stopping on the way for a snack at MTR, a South Indian
restaurant chain. The day had been a bust for photography as I hardly got a
chance to use my camera because the art museum prohibits photography and Iskon
Temple required that I leave the camera at a storage area, though I could use my
phone to take photos of the grounds.
16 February Bengaluru
Two days
ago when I arrived at Bengaluru, Susindar sent a message that the huge airshow
Aero India was taking place now. It runs only every other year, so I was very
lucky to be in town for the five-day event. The final two days are open to the
public, and yesterday I applied online for a ticket, which required filling out
a form and supplying a photo, a passport copy, and a hefty $50 foreigner’s fee.
I caught an Uber taxi north along congested roads to Yelakanda Airforce
Base, then walked through a gate to a large viewing area beside the runways. The
morning air show had already started with four helicopters flying in formation.
Next came a very loud demonstration by a U.S. Air Force F-35 fighter, followed
by jet performances of the license-built Sukoi 30 MKI, and the new
Indian-developed Tejas. The fighter jets made impressively fast and slow passes,
steep climbs, rolls, and sharp turns. Helicopters flew as well, showing off
their maneuverability. Suryakiran “Rays of the Sun” Aerobatics Team proved to be
the greatest crowd pleaser of all with pilots flying nine Hawk Mk 132 jets
through incredible maneuvers traced with smoke plumes. An Indian designed and
developed Hindustan Turbo Trainer-40 then showed off its more modest aerobatic
capabilities. Lastly a vintage bright-yellow Harvard (T-6 Texan) slowly purred
along.
With the morning air show complete, I walked east to a series of
vast hanger-like buildings that house the trade show. Most of the business had
been completed during the first three days, but many booths remained open and I
could see some of the precision mechanical, electrical, and electronic
components that make up an aircraft. Lots of big drones were on display,
reflecting this aspect of aviation’s future. Rockets and spacecraft models put
in appearances as did some submersible ocean-going craft. Outside the buildings
I admired Indian and international aircraft parked in two long rows.
The
afternoon air show featured the Sarang Helicopter Team with daring formation
flying by four Indian-made “Dhruv” (Peacock) Advanced Light Helicopters. Several
jet fighters again took to the skies and a U.S. Air Force B-1B bomber made a
flyover. After the show I followed the crowd to the highway, where getting
transport back to the city proved a struggle. Buses were too full of shoving
Indians to get on, three-wheeler taxis asked exorbitant rates, and Uber taxis
had disappeared. Eventually I got a three-wheeler back to the city center,
though the driver really wanted me to visit a craft shop so he could get a
commission. On Google maps I found a farm-to-table vegetarian restaurant called
“Go Native Lavelle Road” with an attractive open-sided dining area upstairs,
where I went with a tandoori platter and a ginger ale, both very tasty.
17 February Bengaluru-Trichy Train Mailaduturai Express 16232
I caught a
three-wheeler taxi for the short ride south to Lalbagh Botanical Gardens, a vast
expanse of landscaping laid out by ruler Hyder Ali in 1760. But I almost didn’t
get in because the ticket seller told me that cameras are forbidden inside. I
consulted with two other staff and we agreed that I could keep the camera with
me but not use it. Phone cameras are fine, however. I don’t know why people in
India come up with these silly camera bans. I didn’t have any problems five
years ago bringing a camera to the Iskon temple or Lalbagh Botanical Garden.
Flowering trees, bushes, and small plants added color along the paths and beside
a large lake while birds chattered from the foliage. A large open-sided glass
house with ornate ironwork is the stand-out architectural feature of the park
and said to mimic London’s former Crystal Palace. The gardens have become a bit
run down and only a few plants have labels, but this is a wonderful place to
stroll.
One of the reasons I came to Bengaluru this time was to visit a
new art and photography museum, but although it was open today for a press
conference, the public opening wouldn’t be until tomorrow, so I didn’t get to
see anything. Instead I continued north by Uber taxi to the National Gallery of
Modern Art, a pair of old and new buildings in a landscaped park. Unfortunately
the exhibit in the new building had ended on January 31st, but the old building
offered an unusual exhibition of very tiny paintings—just palm
size—“Reflections, Man and Nature in the Paintings of Bireswar Sen (1897-1994).”
Despite the diminutive dimensions, the works have fine detail and textures to
convey a sense of place and spirituality. Again, my camera was banned from the
galleries.
I returned to my room for a short rest, then packed up for the
overnight train ride south to Tiruchirappalli, which just about everyone calls
it ‘Trichy.’ Susindar and his younger daughter Sanju had gotten the ticket for
this heavily booked train through the last-minute Tatkal system. This train
originated in Mysore, then arrived in Bengaluru nearly an hour late. On board I
had a very good lower berth in the main compartment of a second-class
air-conditioned carriage. Once onboard I settled in and bought a vegetarian
biriyani dinner from a passing vendor. A very unhappy baby across the aisle made
a lot of noise before settling down, but the train ride had too many lurches and
bumps for sleep.
On to Trichy (India): Sri Ranganatha Swamy Temple and Bharatanatyam Dances