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Blog about this | Discuss this with other members | eMail to a friend After the big "Rock Blast" that demolished a lot of granite stone built houses,badly damaged the Roman Catholic church and destroyed the convent school injuring a lot of nuns. The younger childred of Edgars block in Marikuppam suddenly realised that living was easy. No school meant no getting up early - no home work. There was arumour going around that a place called Morgans Bungalow was being prepared to be the new convent but, that was going to take time.
Early mornings in KGF were beautiful to the eyes and senses of a 9 year old Richard.The dew lingered on the grass and there was a lovely fresh smell in the air. There were butterflies to catch -- dragon flies to chase,Caterpillars to collect and keep in leaf filled boxes. Richard's favourite passtim was to lie flat on the grass and wonder at the optical illusion created by the two spinning wheels on the top of Edgars mine shaft.
There was a large community of Anglo-Indians in KGF. Their culture was rich and strong. The girls were really beautiful and the young men and boys were encouraged to be gentlemen and to play hard on the sports field.
One Saturday morning Richard's mum woke him up early "Come on Richy, get up" she said. "Have you forgotten that Raymond and Grenville (two older boys) are taking you and your friends to Oolugamadi hills for the day?" Richard sat up bolt upright in his bed fighting the sleep out of his eyes. He jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom
His mum smiled as he walked into the dining room washed and dressed. That was the fasted he ever got ready for anything on any morning. She noticed that as always his plastic belt was too tight around his waist. "Loosen up your belt Richy" she said. "Your trousers will not fall down I promise and your breakfast is on the tanle." Richard pretended to loosen his belt and sat down at the table in front of a bowl of sooji (Semolina) porridge. He hated sooji porridge. His favourite was Puttu rice with freshly grated coconut and milk and sugar. "Richy, eat up" said his mum. "I want you to grind up some fresh coffee beands before you go out." It was his job to fix the cast iron coffee grinder to the meat safe top and grind a tin full of roasted coffee beans. He did this maybe twice a week. His arms used to ache.One compensation was the glorious smell of freshly ground coffee.
He bolted down his porridge, finished off the coffee grinding and cleaned and put away the coffee grinder. "Ma," he said, "Wheres my lunch?" "It's all done" said his mum. "I've packed up three chappaties and some minced beef cutlets and a banana, it in your bag and don't forget your water canteen". Richard's mouth began to water, yummy! Beef cutlets! THe only thing better than beef cutlets was potato cutlets.
He picked up his stuff and said "Thank you mum" and gave her a big kiss. "Go on" she said, "Off you go, Raymond and Grenville are waiting for you outside and be careful. The three miles to Oolugamadi hills was strewn with a lot of interesting things to do. The place abounded with blood suckers (lissards), the odd snake under a rock, prickly pears, cleaned very carefully and eaten and a lot of wild shrub fruit to snack on. Raymond and Grenville had air guns and banged away at dove with a good success rate. These were made into a very hot Vindaloo by the ayah when they got home.
For all of the boys, the golden fleece over the hills was the tons of Jumlums and Borams they would eat when they got there. Half way to the hills was a large pond fed by a natural spring. After an hour or two of walking in an increasingly hot morning it was always a welcome stop for the gang. They would drink their fill of the cool fresh water, fill up their canteens and then everybody would strip off Nanga" and jump into the water.
Raymond and Grenville had their work cut out, helping other boys who had jumped in out of their depth but it was great fun. Once everyone had found their level. Thre was danger though! "Mullets" - big ones - nibbling at your extremities, especially one particular extremity.
Over and beyond Oolugamadi hills were a few villages of no interest to the gang whatsoever. Every last one of them headed off to the Jumlum trees and the Boram thorny hedges. It was a great feast for the gang, stuffing themselves with Jumlums until their purple stained mouths could hardly speak. Bags were filled for mums and sisters and everyone else at home.
After lunch and a rest, some of the boys would set up a catty (catapult) target competition, others would climb up trees looking into birds nests for baby Mynahs and baby Squirrels to keep as pets. Soon it was time to go home. Everyone was tired and the walk back home seemed to take forever. They would be joyfully greeted by everyone and bags of Jumlums would be emptied into bowls of salt water and everyone would have their fill of the purple fruit. "Richard, thank you for the Jumlums my son" said his mum. "But did you have to put some of them in your shirt pocket? It's going to stain. - Richard?" Richard didn't hear a word she said, he was fast asleep on the sofa. His mum smiled and gently loosed the plastic belt around his waist, shaking her head she said "I wish he wouldn't wear it so tight"
KOLAR GOLD FIELDS (EARLY 50'S) Contributed by Ernest Ignatius Blog about this | Discuss this with other members | eMail to a friend
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Freelance Social Worker
Written by barbara thyab ali on 2008-10-03 02:30:57
Hello Dears,
KGF is the same old place with all the same old folks around.They still play Bingo, and enjoy their freedom like hell!!!
I visited them a few years ago and felt as if I were home once again.The club house was rocking with their laughter and jokes.
Simple folks and jolly jokers are what each of them are termed in modern Anglo Indian History today.
My mum was born there and her dad was a Gold Miner , who died with the plague,she was 6 months old and off they put her into the St Thomas Mount Convent up the hill where she grew up and had her fill.
Church Park Covent groomed her into a princess for my dad who came from British Cochin.The teachers training certificate was all she had to own, and dad did take her home, and put her upon his throne.
Nine kids she gave birth to, two left before they were strong.Seven in hand they stood their grounds, and all of us saw days of glory being Anglo Indians to the core.
Queenie Alexina Fernandez was her name and Dad was called Conrad William Correya, both have live a rich old age and left us for their heavenly home.
Not a day goes by without a sigh, thinking of all they did for each one of us, till date their names are spoken with dignity and love.All the other non anglos, still adore them for what they did as Anglos in their days.
We Anglo Indians and thats all there is to it.We were created, and have contributed a great deal to Mother India from the time we were born till we live in India.Our contributions is down in Indian History , but for the fact that the present day Non Anglo is shy to state the facts and figures of ALL THAT THE ANGLOS ARE STILL DOING IN INDIA TODAY!!!
We Anglo Indians are balancing the scales of Justice and helping in the prevention on injustice on the whole in India today.An Historian from our Anglo Society must help to put these facts and figures down History lane.
All the best to the remaining True Blue Blooded Anglos in India Today.
Barbara Thyab Ali. | hi
Written by ernest on 2006-10-14 18:28:41
Hi paul. Thanks for your comment glad it brought back all those memories. Paul, are you any relation to Eugene? If you are please give him my love. | JUMLUMS!!!
Written by Paul Jennings on 2006-10-04 10:39:38
In Cal we did much the same except we called them kaala jamuns (black berries). Sooooooooo sweet like sugar especially when we stole them from the Archbishops House.We'd steal his pumaloes and bananas too!!! When I die I will surely end up in hell on judgement day.
I shot a pigeon off the Globe Cinema Neon sign, missed and blew out the whole jing bang of lights with my 0.22 Diana.
Did we have to scoot after that or not..., I picked up the pigeon though. Shot 35/40 pigeons on the Cal Maidan just outside Fort William after that. Our mugh cook Chinnapan was sooo happy.Made a mean grilled pigeon for me and the family.
With love,
Paul.
| HEY EVERY ONE
Written by MIKIE on 2006-04-05 06:34:04
THIS IS TRUELY AWESOME.NOW I CAN MEET ANGLO.S JUST LIKE ME.AND GO FOR CHRISTMAS GET TOGETHERS AND DANCES AND AND THE ONY TIME I SEE NOT ALL BUT QUITE A FEW ANGLO'S IS ON AUGUST 15TH WHEN I PLAY HOCKY MATCHES AT ALLOYSOUS SCHOOL GROUNDS.THEY BOOTED US OUT OF THE HOLY GHOST CHURCH GROUNDS 2 YEARS COS WE WERE MESSIN AROUND TOO MUCH .WHAT CAN I SAY WHERE IS THE FUN WITHOUT MESSIN AROUND.ANY WAY I OPE TO MEET OR AT LEAST CHAT WITH SOME ONE NEW EVERY DAY
YOUR PAL
MIKIE. | Written by alibaba on 2006-03-11 05:24:15
Top article Earnest, got me reminiscing of the trip I too took in the mid 60's. have Bloged my excursion too.
Thanks for the memory.
Alibaba | Written by Guest on 2006-02-24 07:17:04
Dear Earnest,
That was an interesting article. I have been to KGF coz i have heard so much about the place and now I live a couple of hours from there. My dad is from there, so I've heard about the adventures. Great article and in very good detail too.
Thanks | Doug F
Written by Guest on 2006-02-24 05:38:43
Hi Ernie
What a wonderful,innocent time that was! No worries,lots of dreams for the future. I enjoyed reading that.
We used to call them Jamuns up in the U.P. And yes, I got a few smacks for purple pockets as well. DF | Written by Florence on 2006-02-23 12:02:43
Hi Brother,
So when did you become a writer...?!! Love you story, KGF was a special place, inspit of the mine blasts.  | A day out at Oolugamadi Hills
Written by arlene on 2006-02-23 04:20:17
Dear Ernest,
Perfect article of the early 50's indeed, well described and I must say one cd imagine it all.
Wonder if the the kids of today cd enjoy what you described so well -today say the say for themselves "effortlessly".
Regards:Arlene | Fantastic!
Written by conradical on 2006-02-22 12:11:56
Well written! Conjoures up vivid pictures! Richard reminds me of me (save for the plastic belt).
Thanks Ernest, beautiful article. |
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