Ah, it’s Nada Habba season again — time for Dasara! This should be the moment when Mysuru shines, showcasing its royal heritage. Yet, here we are scrambling with last-minute preparations.

In recent years, Dasara seems to have shifted from its grand Jumboo Savari procession to… well, a glorified light show illuminating city streets.

Sure, the city dazzles at night, but where’s the gold in all that glitter? And more importantly, where are the high-spending tourists?

The city sure shines at night, but is Dasara losing its royal charm? The tourist in-flow numbers seem to suggest so.

Tourist turnout is on the decline. In 2021, Mysuru saw 27,093 tourists. In 2022, it climbed to 36,013. But by 2023, it was down to 23,890.

More concerning, the high-spending tourists — the kind that usually bring the pomp — are staying away.

Maybe it’s time to hit the refresh button on Dasara. It’s time for new aesthetics, better programmes and targeting the right audience.

Once upon a time, Dasara felt regal, prestigious, a place where foreign visitors splurged and soaked in the luxury while domestic crowds also enjoyed and had fairly easy access to well put together cultural events, both traditional and commercial. Now it’s turned into a noisy, chaotic mess.

The cultural events during the recent Dasaras are nearly impossible to attend — tickets are scarce, venues are overcrowded and accessing them is a nightmare.

Add to that Food Mela with mediocre food stalls and questionable hygiene; an exhibition ground clogged with people and traffic gridlock caused by folks stopping for selfies with the illuminations has rendered Dasara tedious.

As for the Jumboo Savari? Well, it’s turned into a jumbo mess.

The Jumboo Savari, year after year, is  the same old thing — tableaux that look like they’re from the ‘90s, same dancing troupes and blaring music, all while poor Abhimanyu, the elephant is navigating a human obstacle course with a 750-kg howdah on his back.

It’s no wonder, tourists prefer watching it on TV from the comfort of their homes — far away from the sweaty chaos  on the streets.

Speaking of discomfort, I attended the procession at the Palace last year. It was…               underwhelming, to say the least.

There were foreign tourists who had paid good money for “gold” tickets, only to be stranded in a sea of people with no chairs to sit on. A French visitor even told me how people from another section simply crossed over and walked off with their chairs !

And the path of the procession? Let’s just say the foreign tourists weren’t the only ones feeling claustrophobic. Abhimanyu was surrounded by hyper-enthusiastic men who wanted be seen on TV and the Police did nothing to give Abhimanyu space.

Why has this grand festival turned into a chaotic street fair? Well, it might have something to do with event management — or rather, the lack thereof.

Our DC (Deputy Commissioner), as capable as he is, isn’t an event manager. He’s supposed to be running the city, not co-ordinating between food and hygiene committees or deciding how much glitter to put on the floats.

At this point, the poor man’s workload is so ridiculous that he might as well be asked to carry the howdah too !

Expecting an overworked official to pull off a flawless Dasara is like asking a bureaucrat to organise the Olympics. It’s not going to end well. And things might get worse this year with the government’s decision to bypass public tenders under the KTPP (Karnataka Transparency in Public Procurement) Act.

The government has deployed this Act which allows discretionary powers to allot contracts for lack of time.

This means they can now hand out contracts to whoever they want, without having to explain why.

Convenient, right? Oh, and  the budget?  Rs. 40 crore. Guess, this Dasara it’s shiny lights for us and shiny notes for them. 

Maybe, it’s time to call in the professionals. Around the world, grand festivals and major events are managed by experts — why not Dasara?

Let a seasoned event management company handle the logistics, the creative direction and yes, even the seating arrangements.

With the right vision, they could turn Dasara back into the regal affair it once was. They could even turn a profit while doing it and share it with the government.

For now, Dasara has been reduced to a flashy light show, a far cry from the royal splendour that once defined Mysuru.

If we don’t act soon, this regal festival is going to end up like a village fair — a loud, garish “jathre” and that would be a tragedy.

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