A KSRTC bus stand
Credit: DH File Photo
Just a couple of decades ago, my friends and I used to mock the elders when got nostalgic during routine conversations. If an elder mentioned getting 18 seru (seers, a measure of grains) of rice for a rupee back in their day, we would giggle. Little did we realise they were giving us history lessons!
Our neighbour in Mandya, Puttaswamy thatha, known as ‘Shisthina (disciplined) Puttaswamy,’ was a strict disciplinarian. He would reminisce about having a ‘masale dose’ and a coffee for ‘nalkaane’ (four annas or 25 paise) at Udupi Hotel in Mysuru, during his student days. In the late 1980s, as I travelled from Mandya to Mysuru for PUC in Marimallappa’s College, passing the same hotel near Doddagadiyara (big clock) almost everyday, I refrained from mentioning it to Puttaswamy thatha and his gang of contemporaries, as the hotel had fallen to ill repute. The hotel now also had boarding.
Recently, travelling from Mysuru to Mandya by KSRTC bus, I discovered the fare was Rs 55, compared to the Rs 5 I paid in 1989 as a student commuting to Marimallappa’s College. By the time I started attending classes, it had increased to Rs 5.50. To avoid this hike and save 50 paise, I used to travel by private ‘Matadors’, dropping me near Doddagadiyara. The pickup point was also the same.
Later, obtaining a student pass to travel from Mysuru to Kallahalli on the outskirts of Mandya was a relief. The pass, not issued up to Mandya as its distance exceeded the permitted 40 km limit by one km, cost Rs 15. It wasn’t easy to get one as the application had to be attested by the college and issued and renewed at a counter in the City Bus Stand. Despite the gradual increase in the cost of the student pass, I benefited from it for seven years, until completing my post graduation in 1996. It was a daily struggle for us, the ‘pass hudugru’ (pass holders), as KSRTC drivers and conductors had an aversion towards us, especially during peak hours.
Some conductors instructed us to board the bus only after other passengers so that they could secure seats. Additionally, our choices were limited, as the boards of buses from the Kolar depot read: V Kote (Kota in Telugu) to Virajpet, making them technically inter-state bus although V Kote is a village just outside Karnataka border, in Andhra Pradesh and we could not board it.
Even now, newspapers report the inconvenience faced by students travelling by KSRTC bus due to increased “rush,” courtesy the State government’s ‘Shakthi’ scheme for women to travel free.
Now I understand -- nostalgia may be boring, but it holds valuable history lessons.