The lost charm
N J Ravi Chander
Every year on the first of January – the Christian New Year’s Day – the stretch near the Cox Town Market in East Bangalore comes alive with stalls, street performances, artisans, vendors and games. The entire street transforms into a riot of colour, sights and sounds, and a carnival atmosphere fills the air. Christened as the ‘Market Fair,’ the celebration has its origins during the colonial era when our English masters introduced it to ring in the New Year.
The Europeans and the Anglo-Indians once inhabited this part of town. They loved their liquor, food and meat and celebration was a way of life. They partied hard and indulged in merriment, song and dance. Blessed with deep pockets, they shopped till they dropped. Their way of life rubbed off on the residents of East Bangalore, and though many of them migrated to Europe, Australia and Canada later, the tradition continues to this day.
Preparations begin a few days before the enormous event. Vendors from various parts of the state descend on the stretch in hordes and set up shop. The early birds grab the vantage positions while they leave the late owls fighting for space. They cram every nook and cranny as everybody vies with one another to ply their wares. Business booms and every hawker and vendor gets a share of the big pie.
In the old days, the market fair had prizes for the best stalls. The vegetable, fruit, fish and meat stalls were the actual show-stoppers and had a quaint, old-world charm around them. Colourful vegetable and fruit stalls displaying fresh produce from the farms in perfect geometrical patterns was a treat to the eye, and so were the meat stalls which put up the finest cuts of lamb and fish. The city mayor who was the chief guest at the fair gave away the trophies and purse to the winners, whose photographs made it to the front pages of the city’s leading newspapers.
Since our family lived in the market’s vicinity, we were regulars to the fair every year. We trooped off in the morning along with our late father, M N Jayaraman, and treat ourselves to cakes, cookies, ice-creams and sugar candies which came in assorted shapes and sizes. The toys and balloons were a bonus. We enjoyed the rides on the merry-go-round and the simple pleasures of watching still films on the hand-rolled projector. The fair also had its share of pleasant surprises as we bumped into a friend or relative after a long while.
The carnival goes on uninterrupted every New Year’s day, but the old charm that we experienced during our halcyon days is missing.
(The author is a retired banker who has taken up writing as a pastime. He writes for the Deccan Herald, The New Indian Express, The Tribune, The Hitavada, The City Tab, The Hans India and Kashmir Vision)
