GANESH IN THE GARDEN CITY - BANGALORE

VICTORIAN BANGALORE

Holy Trinity Church (1851) near Trinity Circle on Mahatma Gandhi Street, in Bangalore, looked like any other English Parish Church, but this one had some how come down to land in India.  It faced East, like all English Parish Churches and the original nineteenth century bell is still rung every Sunday just as it always has.

The Eastern end of the church has an 'Angel Hammer Beam Roof', which must have reminded its English Congregation of some of the finest parish churches back in England.  Sitting in the polished wooden pews, gave a sense of another time in the distant past and one could almost hear the strains of the pipe organ, playing a familiar hymn.  The commemorative slabs around the walls told the story of the men of the British Regiments, who had worshipped in the Church two centuries ago - some had succumbed to cholera, some to battle wounds but the last tablet on the left wall, caught the eye - this gentleman must have been a member of the Regiment carrying out the first geographical survey of India - this necessitated going through unchartered territory in the relentless pursuit of measurement, sometimes with dire consequences !

BANGALORE - I.T. vs HEROIC NATURE

Silicon Valley it might be, but the real wonder of this city, is LalBagh Gardens.  This was Nature putting man in his place.

The giant Tamarind Tree seemed to stretch up into the clouds, it was so tall.  "This is where your 'Worcester Sauce' comes from" Vijay, our guide, informed us.  That tree commanded respect.... after all, a bottle of 'Worcester Sauce' on the breakfast table, no matter what country you were in, imbued the table with Englishness, with home and security, everything in its rightful place, of parents and grandparents and the continuity of lineage and all that is unchanging and best.

With its massive trunk and branches, the huge Candle Tree manages with rugged dexterity, to produce delicate white flowers, which bloom right out of its woody bark, as if by magic.  The Redwood Tree pods are so hard and strong, that only a fire could break them apart to reveal their inner secret, a perfect container,  with an individual compartment for each of its 3 smooth, shiny seeds, cushioned in the softest down, hidden from gaze, until only the most extreme conditions could crack the pod and allow germination to take place.

Fronds hanging in delicate, fragile, vertical wisps, - the Weeping Chinese Cypress, suggested the melancholy trees, wrapped in mist,  in a Chinese scroll painting and then the antidote, the Colville Wonder Tree, with its bright orange blooms, hanging in heavy exotic bunches - a riot of indulgence !

The tall, straight, heroic Talipot Palm, 75 years old and in fruit only once in a lifetime, would die afterwards - a kind of Botanical tragedy.  And the overwhelming Palmyra Palm, providing writing material for all the ancient scriptural texts  and ayurvedic documents from centuries ago - the nature of its palm leaf fibre led man to develop cursive script, because straight lines would cause the leaf to tear !

The wonder of this Garden of Eden !

HISS AND SLAP

I listened to the rhythmic slap of clothing being washed by hand, on the one side and on the other, the loud hiss of a pressure cooker, as food for the day was being prepared in the house next door.  These sounds are as much a part of the morning, as the 'barrow boy',  from the vegetable market, calling out, to advertise his produce.  The pressure cooker is a very important part of every Indian household and some kitchens have as many as six !  In fact most Indian homes don't have an oven, because baking is simply not a part of the routine.

During a recent cooking demonstration by a local baker, who prides herself on providing such Western treats as muffins, scones and chocolate brownies, she began by explaining to her audience of young Indian women, that she would be demonstrating the making of 'pastry'.  With great emphasis on keeping everything very cold, from hands to utensils,  her dough was finally ready, and passed round so everyone could feel its plasticity - she went on to explain that you pricked the pastry before baking and then baked it 'blind' - much to the incredulity of the young women in the audience, who had never ever made pastry.  Looking at it through their eyes, it did seem very complicated.

Other culinary challenges in India, are cooking without eggs, trying to beat thin cream into stiff peaks, cooking with sugar whose crystals are far too large and chocolate, which has a high wax content to stop it from melting in the hot Indian climate !  Of course gelatin, made from animal hoof, is also banned, which means that jellies don't set !  'When in Rome......'  I concluded that it was much easier to just buy a pressure cooker and become vegetarian !

FULL MOON DAY

It was the Hindu festival of Raksha Bandhan, when a Rakhi (sacred thread) is given by a sister to her brother, signifying the bond of protection and kinship between them - but there is also a delightful story taken from the epic Mahabharat that Draupadi, wife of the Pandavas, tore off a strip from her sari to tie round the wrist of Krishna, to stem the flow of blood, when he was injured in battle, he never forgot her act of kindness and remembered her all his life.  And so it can represent a wider bond.

The workers at the local fine dining restaurant lined up respectfully, as the owner and her delegation moved around from each one to the next tying the Rakhi thread and wishing them good luck, a tika was rubbed onto the forehead and a sweet given to each.  This was a chinese food restaurant and the image of Buddha looked down inscrutably on the proceedings.  Were they given the day off?  Of course not, business as usual !  

A TIN OF SARDINES

The Bengali love of fish is well known - even when they are eating chicken, they try to imagine that it is fish....a Bengali is fairly easy to spot - they have round faces, round eyes and a glowing skin - no doubt helped by their preferred diet of oily fish.

So it was no surprise to hear my Bengali friend talking endlessly about the restaurants he visited.  But one day, he told me a story which was both surprising and touching.  His elderly father was in hospital and very poorly, nobody expected him to survive.  Hearing about this, one of his clients gave him a gift for his father -  a tin of sardines !  My friend recounted this with eyes growing ever rounder....."do you know"  he said  "you don't have to prepare that fish, you simply open the tin and eat the contents straight away !" He'd reached the age of 42 and didn't know about tinned fish!  Needless to say, his father immediately perked up, as you would expect after such a meal !

The pleasure that a tin of sardines brought to a dying man, has transformed my attitude to this maligned fish.  I have now introduced my Bengali friend to the delights of tinned tuna and anchovy paste !!

BEHOLD ! (Italy - Summer)