Rapid urbanisation has pushed the eponymous Mysore Veelyadele — Mysore betel leaf — to the margins in many parts of Mysuru district. But in Udbur, a small village barely 12 kms from the heart of Mysuru city, the leaf continues to thrive, rooted firmly in soil, tradition and community pride.
Located on Udbur-Hullahalli Road, off the Mysuru-H.D. Kote Road, this village has quietly held on to a legacy that once enjoyed royal patronage. What sets Udbur apart is not just the cultivation of the GI-tagged Mysore Veelyadele, but the fact that its farmers have built and sustained their own wholesale market, something rare in today’s ecosystem.
A market is born
At the centre of the village stands the Sri Lakshminarayana Swamy Veelyadele Santhe, an exclusive market for Mysore Veelyadele. Unlike most farming communities that depend on town markets, the growers of Udbur took matters into their own hands, creating a space dedicated solely to auctioning their produce.
The market operates every single day of the year, including Sundays, from 4 pm to 5 pm — just one hour, but one that determines the day’s fortunes for hundreds of farmers.
It is the only such exclusive Veelyadele auction market in the State. While Channapatna in Bengaluru South district (earlier Ramanagara) also hosts a betel leaf market, it convenes only twice a week. Beyond Karnataka, Tamil Nadu is the next major destination for Mysore Veelyadele. Hundreds of acres in and around Udbur are under betel leaf cultivation. Most farmers reserve 10 to 20 guntas of their land for Veelyadele, growing it alongside other crops. With a ready market at their doorstep, worries about marketing are minimal — though the challenges of cultivation remain plenty.
Generations of Pride
For Manju, a fifth-generation Veelyadele grower from Udbur, the crop is more than a livelihood. “I have been growing Mysore Veelyadele for 27 years now. The pride associated with its cultivation is unexplainable,” he says. “But with the shortage of skilled labour and rising daily wages, it has become an expensive affair,” he rues. Despite the costs, farmers here continue, driven as much by tradition as by economics.
Mysore Veelyadele is grown in three main varieties — ‘bili yele’ (white leaf), ‘kappu yele’ (black leaf) and ‘yenne kempu’ (oily red). The ‘white’ leaf is actually light green and has a shelf life of two to three days. The black leaf, darker green in colour, lasts longer, while the oily red variety falls somewhere in between. What unites them all is the distinct heart-shaped leaf.
No auspicious occasion — be it a wedding, baby naming ceremony or house-warming — is considered complete without betel leaves served with slaked lime, arecanut and sugar after a sumptuous lunch.
Beyond ritual significance, chewing betel leaf is believed to aid digestion, a belief still held strongly among elders, many of whom remain regular chewers. For some, the habit has turned into an addiction, visible in their reddened lips and tongue.
Veelyadele is both labour-intensive and water-intensive. Soil moisture must be maintained consistently, with proper drainage to prevent water-logging. The surface must remain wet throughout cultivation and pumpsets are used for irrigation.
Earlier, every farmer maintained a pond — either to store rainwater or to pump water from nearby sources using diesel motors. Though methods have evolved, the dependence on water has not.
For beginners, the Veelyadele vine is usually planted in arecanut or other tree farms to provide vertical support. The plants are spaced one-and-a-half feet apart, in rows four feet wide, with soil enriched using cow dung manure.
As the vine grows to about a foot in height, it is tied to the support trees using ropes made from banana stems. The stems are soaked in water, peeled and twisted into rope-like strands.
Why banana stem ropes? Mallesh, a farmer from Udbur, explains it with quiet conviction.
“Both Veelyadele and banana are essential for auspicious occasions. They are offered to God during pujas. That’s why they make the perfect combination,” he says, adding a caution passed down generations: “Use any other rope and the chances of the plant withering are more.”
Mallesh also points out how farmers enter the Veelyadele plot barefoot, after offering ‘namaskara’ to the soil, an act that reflects the deep reverence they hold for the crop.
Growers from neighbouring villages such as T. Katur, Gopalapura, Talur and Dhangalli also bring their produce here. While Udbur farmers are allotted space free of cost, outsiders pay a daily rent of Rs. 50. The amount collected is offered to the hundi of Sri Lakshminarayana Swamy Temple.
Within an hour, the market winds up. For those who secure good returns, the joy is evident. With ‘chaat’ and sweet shops lining the area, many farmers buy treats to take home, a small celebration of a good day’s work.
From field to auction
Harvesting is done between 6 am and 12 noon when the weather is favourable. Farmers use a locally made tool called ‘Yele Uguru,’ a finger-shaped metal cutter worn on the thumb to gently cut the betel leaves.
The betel leaves are then packed — 200 leaves per bundle, 50 bundles per ‘pindi’ making a total of 10,000 leaves — in bundles weaved using coconut fronds. Water is sprinkled periodically to keep them fresh.
By afternoon, farmers begin arriving at the market, alone or in small groups, carrying their ‘pindis.’ At exactly 4 pm, one Narayani strikes a metal rod against the market’s support pole — a sound resembling a school bell. And lo, the auction begins.
Bundles are untied, leaves displayed and bids fly thick and fast as farmers try to secure best price from middlemen.
A ‘pindi’ usually fetches between Rs. 2,000 and Rs. 8,000, though exceptional quality has seen prices touch Rs. 15,000. Like any crop, prices fluctuate with quality, shelf life and overall yield.
From village to homes
Retailers purchase their share at Udbur Market and sell the leaves at Devaraja Market, Vani Vilas Market, roadside pavements and grocery shops across Mysuru.
Despite changing lifestyles and growing urban influence, Mysore Veelyadele remains a must-buy for households on Mondays and Fridays, the days dedicated to worship. The price, however, reflects its dwindling supply and sustained demand. Each leaf now costs about Rs. 1.50.
This post was published on February 16, 2026 6:56 pm