Cooke'd - First Draft ( Mallika, Mehak, Ruchir )

As we disembarked the crowed G9 after a tiring one-hour commute and stepped onto the musty pavement leading to the old Colonial style building, we were overwhelmed by the sweet aroma of freshly baked goodies. After wolfing down a couple of the soft and fluffy doughnuts that melted in our mouths, leaving a rich, velvety coating on our palette, we proceeded towards the platform ticket counter. Behind the counter, sat a stout old man who handed out our platform tickets. After we stepped on to the desolate platform occasionally sprinkled with commuters and porters, we noticed the extensive British influence in the architectural style. Enormous arch ways sprawled across this granite walled structure. The constant chirping of a bird and the ticking of an antique analog clock was occasionally disturbed by the whistling of an oncoming train. As we made our way up the rickety overhead footbridge connecting the only two platforms, the wooden ceiling reinforced with aluminum caught our sight. The distinction between the two platforms became evident in the fairly modern exit way.

After haggling with a few persistent rickshaw waalas who refused to reduce their exorbitant fares, we finally found one who was willing to go by meter, a rare sight in Bangalore. On our way to Cooke town, the rickshaw waala eagerly informed us about the newly constructed and well equipped garage right next to the cantonment station, meant for the servicing of the diesel engines and other bogies, after correctly guessing us to be college students on a mission. The gigantic structure of the St. Francis Xavier Cathedral, towering over its surrounding educational institutes caught our eye and put us into a deep sense of awe. After paying a sum of merely Rs. 24, we began our search for Lewis Street. The ironic sight of the close proximity of an Islamic boutique and a pub strangely named Sherlock Holmes amused us.

 On Wheeler’s Road, we chanced upon a scooter with an attached sidecar through the open gates of a green coloured building. On seeing our interest in the vehicle, the owner of this building ushered us in. A welcoming old lady adorning a blazing pink dress, complementing her wheatish skin tone, fevourently introduced herself as Shabnam. Her smile reached the wrinkles of her twinkling eyes as she gushed about the fond memories of her childhood days. Shabnam, the former resident of Brigade Road had moved into this area thirty years ago. She jokingly pointed at the various issues the residents face today, but was quite optimistic on the whole and had built a sense of immunity towards them. She became quite nostalgic as she remembered the days when she as a kid could go out on and play on the streets that were now choked with traffic, with minimal space for pedestrians to walk.  Also she pointed out the degradation of values brought about by the exposure that children get today. She also stated that her social life had become almost nil compared to that in the 70’s as everyone was to busy minting money. After a long conversation we bid her farewell and proceeded along.

After asking for directions from rickshaw wallahs and policemen, we finally entered Cooke’s Town. We read sign board after sign board till we found Lloyd Street. We strolled into the residential area noticing the influences from old British architecture in the modern multi story apartments. We also saw some old houses with monkey tops reminiscent of the same. Finally stepping into the quieter Lewis Street we were caught by cops. They questioned our intentions and purpose of being in that locality. Bemused, we showed them our letter of purpose and id’s and they mellowed down. However, after they moved along, we were informed by a lawyer who had been watching the proceedings, that they did not have the authority to do so. Thinking that the highhandedness of policemen was the same everywhere, we moved to our next destination.

After chugging down some sugarcane juice, we found some adorable kittens outside a fruit shop, not realizing that this also was one of the places listed on our brief.  We interacted with the jolly and talkative old fruit vendor, Javed, who told us tales from his childhood. Being from the third generation of fruit sellers, he had recently moved to Cooke Town from Shivaji Nagar and found it better and in his words ‘more decent’. His grandfather had moved to Bangalore from 4o kms out, for the sole purpose of making a living and this phenomenon had continued through the ages. Over jokes about the kittens’ mother leaving them for her husband and bananas, which he gave us a discount for, he gave us little excerpts from his life. One of the main things that he pointed out was the value of money. A man could earlier, provide for a family of ten, but the same was impossible in today’s day and age. Also education had become more important where a mere degree from today could be compared to matriculating in the yester years and a man with a bicycle was a rich man. We finally moved along with a holistic understanding of life in the cantonment area in the present as well as the past.