Roads that tell the story of Bangalore

Cities evolve in fascinating ways. Like people, they show the scars and tumult of evolution. Some countries – particularly those in Europe – take pride in displaying the signs of their infancy, preserving cities and townships that are hundreds of years old. At Aarhus in Denmark, you may find an entire village called Den Gamble By re-created from older destroyed townships – a sort of walk-through museum where you find shops of tailors, carpenters, smithies and other trades not currently associated with modern Europe. Den Gamble By, built in 1914, is the world’s first open-air museum, and is one of Aarhus’s claims to fame. The most arresting feature of Den Gamble By is its celebration of the ‘everydayness’ of life, giving visitors a glimpse into how people lived earlier.

Asia, on the other hand, tends to be embarrassed about its everyday history. The Asians – Indians in particular -- try hard to present themselves in the Western image – history here is meant only for the museum, fitting a grand narrative that seeks to present the past as idealistically as possible. The sense of everyday history is missing.

That’s a shame, for nowhere else in the world does the past sit so effortlessly and seamlessly as it does in India. We tend to overlook the importance of this, and seek to constantly tear down reminders of our past to rebuild our cities in a more ‘modern’ image. In this image, a marketplace would essentially be a mall, where one can shop for various things within an air-conditioned enclosure; avoid the dust and grime and mess, and come out feeling heady from an apparently ‘great’ shopping experience.

Luckily, though, some pockets in our cities have escaped the attentions of our urban planners. These pockets are far more fascinating than any modern shopping arcade; they open you up to several, multi-layered experiences. Consider the stretch in Malleswaram that runs parallel to Sampige Road (to its east), and between 16th cross and 4th cross. Clustered, dense with traffic and people, a walk through this stretch presents an opportunity to delve into a sub-altern perspective of history and culture.

To its north is the Kadu Malleswara temple, from which Malleswaram gets its name. There is a rock inscription by the temple, which declares that the Maratha warrior Shivaji’s brother Ekkoji granted the surrounding village to the temple. Ekkoji had stumbled upon the place during a hunt, and imagined a ‘Shivalinga’ on a rock, which inspired him to build a temple there.

Bang opposite the temple is a smaller Jain shrine, the Shri Nageshwar Parshwanath Jain Shwetambar Mandir. There are two more temples next to these, one dedicated to Nandi.

A further walk will reveal small trades that have nearly disappeared from Bangalore’s newer areas – a ladies’ tailor, a watch repairer, a junk yard, several small eateries, an Iyengar bakery, and a sugarcane juice outlet that also serves excellent coffee. Close by is Moodala Mane, which serves ethnic Karnataka delicacies such as the ‘obbattu’ and ‘kajaya’; the restaurant is made to look like one of those typically village hotels that dot the countryside. At the end of this stretch is Kodial, which serves Dakshina Kannada cuisine; the ambience is heightened by posters of Yakshagana artistes, Karnataka’s Jnanapith award winners, and pots and wooden artefacts that almost evoke the thick monsoons of that district. At Kodial you can buy homemade pickles and squashes made of cocum or brahmi, apart from various kinds of chutney powders.

Such then are some of the treasures of this one stretch. You could even make a detailed study of the architecture of the place, and it will reveal veritably the evolution of Bangalore, like the layers within a sedimentary rock formation that will tell you the history of the earth. Several reminders of the past co-exist with modern buildings that house financial advisors or diagnostic labs. ‘Modernity’ should indicate our higher state of evolution rather than just some glitzy knick-knacks. A new urban plan for Bangalore should take into account its roots and identity, rather than just the hopeless prospect of making it another Singapore.