Mysuru Dasara: Pages from the past

Dasra dolls on display in a home. Photos by Gouri Satya

An orderly Durbar by Maharaha Jayachamaraha Wadiyar 

Elephant visiting homes 

Parachute descending during Dasara celebrations 

Howdah elephant Arjuna carries Goddess Chamundi during the Jamboo Savari in Mysuru in 2017. DH file photo

When I think of Mysuru Dasara my mind invariably goes to the past. Hawkers selling small pleasures: cucumbers sliced impossibly thin and garnished with chilli and lemon; a man offering a binocular and small stool for half an anna, so the young ones in the crowd could have a closer look at the Maharaja — these were part of the Dasara celebrations in Mysuru in the 1950s and 60s.

Meanwhile, people waited breathlessly in the grounds for the moment when the palace would be lit up — a sudden burst of light — that evoked a sense of awe from the crowd. The glow from the lights would spread for miles around, and people still in their houses would hurry up so as to not miss the evening durbar of the Maharaja. The tonga ride to the palace or other places of attraction on roads that were free of automobiles was a pleasure for Mysuru residents as well as visitors who would come to the city to be part of the Dasara celebrations.

The arrival of Dasara brought an atmosphere of festivity that pervaded the town. Households brought down the dolls stored in the attic, dusted and arranged them for the festival; the dolls of the Raja and Rani were given a central place. In the morning, people went by to see the Maharaja hold the grand Durbar while the evening offered the added attraction of the brilliantly illuminated palace.

Of late, in a bid to save energy, incandescent bulbs have been replaced by LED lights.

One innovation which evoked curiosity was the electric lift for the performing musicians. During ten days of festivities, the platform bearing the musicians slowly rose up so the Maharaja could see the musicians as well as hear their performance, after which it slowly returned to the ground.

Dasara procession

Merit was the sole criteria to participate in the celebrations. One example is the selection of scouts and guides to take part in the Dasara procession.

Those who wanted to be part of the procession were asked to report to the Scouts headquarters a month ahead of the festivities and a policeman then chose those fit enough to march the entire distance from the Palace to the Banni Mantapa grounds, a distance of 4.5 km. The training then lasted till the wards could march in unison; it was discipline that counted towards the selection.

The procession during the final day of Dasara was a great crowd-puller. There was the ‘dancing horse’: A white horse dressed in silver robes which pranced around like it was dancing. The Jamboo Savari, with the king seated in the golden howdah of a decorated elephant, was the chief attraction. After the procession, people dispersed, discussing the jewels or clothes the king adorned, or if he looked weak or gained weight from the previous year.

The other thing that is striking is that people maintained great discipline during the procession out of reverence to the Wadiyars and had no need to be policed. There was no room for confusion or chaos even when the crowds dispersed after the festivities were done, which is not the case today.

Overall, Dasara atmosphere has been one of enthusiasm and gaiety. For those of us who have witnessed the Dasara during the Wadiyar era, the scenes seem like something out of a fairy-tale.

Jamboo Savari continues to be the centre of attraction even today. In recent years, it has been common to see over two lakh people gathering to watch the procession.

This year, the audience has been restricted to 300 people due to the Covid-19 pandemic.