Saturday December 4th 1971. Morning classes had just begun. Schools had “morning class” on Saturdays – an awkward arrangement with classes starting at 7:30 or some such hour and ending around noon. The previous night,
“For him to prosper and, in the future, get a job in Mysore State, he will need to know Kannada. You should put him in Kannada class,” says the teacher. The mother obliges, thereby opening a key to a rich treasury, for her son.
Brindavan Express is not quite as fast as it used to be, nor is it the unchallenged monarch of the Bangalore-Madras route. Similarly, life has changed for the author too, while he misses his childhood and memories.
She actually lived Bhagavadgeeta-style, with an uncompromising attitude towards work. While trying to trace the story of a domestic helper, the author also chronicles the memoirs of the lost Bengaluru.