BY N J RAVI CHANDER 

 

 

IFONDLY remember the picturesque Ulsoor Lake in Bengaluru, our happy hunting ground in the 1970s and the favourite haunt of fitness enthusiasts, boaters, anglers, tourists, and bird watchers. During our salad days, my brothers and I would don our jogging gear, down a hot tumbler of finger millet porridge prepared by our mother, and join scores of other athletes for an invigorating lap around the lake. Some of these joggers went on to become accomplished sportspersons. A mesmerising memory is of factory workers cycling to work, their shrill bicycle bells piercing the crisp morning air. The swarm of bicycles resembled ripples in the ocean, but calm returned after the factory sirens sounded and the shifts began. Our jog began on Assaye Road and ended at the same spot. We irked the factory workers by trying to outpace them. A thick fog blanketed the city during winter, and we often bumped into runners from opposite directions. Umpteen landmarks adorned the lake’s periphery, enhancing the enjoyment of the run. Our jogging route took us past the Sappers War Memorial (now housed inside the sprawling MEG campus), the Kensington swimming pool, the Kempegowda watch tower, the Gurudwara, the Aurobindo Society, the Tamil Sangam, and the Home Guards and Civil Defence Academy (HGCDA).

 

The HGCDA was once a sprawling orchard, and urchins often strayed inside to devour the succulent fruits. Among our escapades were skipping school, renting a rowboat, and embarking on expeditions to the islands within the lake. We didn’t allow our lack of proficiency in rowing and swimming to hinder us. However, we kept our boating outings a secret for fear of getting admonished by the family elders. During summer, a part of the lake turned bone dry, allowing people to cross it on foot. During the migrating season, waterfowl descended on the lake, and the stunning array of colours made the photographer’s day. When the monsoons arrived, the lake overflowed, flooding the surrounding roads. The MEG & Centre personnel faced the daunting challenge of removing the water hyacinths that infested the waterbody and keeping it sparkling clean. Occasi-onally, we encountered corpses floating on the lake. The number of suicides surged after the final exams. The stench of decaying flesh lingered in the air for weeks until the municipal authorities stepped in.

 

Tales of ghostly figures emerging from the lake after sunset did the rounds, making the timid tremble with fear. Anglers equipped with fishing rods and bait were a common sight at one end of the lake, and we watched in awe when they reeled in a prized catch. The waterbody remained unfenced back then, and people refrained from venturing too far inside. The Madras Sappers annual Regatta featured boat races and a spectacular fireworks display, drawing spectators in droves. Ulsoor Lake was a popular venue for film shoots. I once bumped into a movie set on the lake’s periphery and saw Rajesh Khanna, the first superstar of Hindi cinema, preparing for a shoot. Back then, security was laid-back! Years later, I climbed the wall of the Kengsington swimming pool to watch a Kannada film shoot featuring Anant Nag. Other charms around the lake included watching the Indian men’s hockey preparatory camp at the MEG & Centre Ground. Fans and autograph hunters flocked to gawk at their idols. The reward: used hockey sticks for a lucky few. That was another era!