By Dr. K. Javeed Nayeem

The Dasara, our most spectacular annual show, that we Mysureans and all our guests wait for most expectantly, year after year, has come and gone too.

With all our guests too gone back to where they all came from, the city roads are regaining their traditional, not-too-busy look that they have always been known for. It’s something that we Mysureans cherish and even feel proud about, as a very unique privilege, unavailable to residents of most other cities.

Our public buildings too, which were brightly lit and decked up, leaving us all delighted and enthralled, have got back their usual looks now but embellished thankfully, with their new coats of paint, that are going to last another year until Dasara comes calling once again.

But I don’t know how many of us have noticed that this year’s Dasara took a slightly different turn even as the festivities got going. There was a hue and cry from some quarters that the recent fad of festooning our roadside trees and encircling their trunks with electric lights was a practice that had to be stopped because it was perceived as being detrimental to their well-being. So, much of this work was stalled midway, leaving some trees in different parts of the city bereft of any ornaments.

But strangely and thankfully, the trees already thus decorated were left alone, which perhaps has given us and our guests one last chance to see the kind of ornamentation which in my opinion was what gave our roads their most spectacular look.

Unless someone comes up with an alternate way of decking up our trees in an equally beautiful way, that seems acceptable to all those who in my opinion are overly concerned over a rather harmless practice, the Dasaras that we are going to see in the coming years will certainly be different and maybe a little insipid too.

The other thing that made the Dasara spectacle different this year was the very strict enforcement of the rule that spectators of the Jumboo Savari would not be allowed to view it from treetops, rooftops and balconies of building along the procession route.

This was certainly a very good move, considering the many accidents and stampedes we are now getting to hear of from across the country from time to time.

But there is no denying the fact that it was this very same spectacle of overly enthusiastic people, gathered on all buildings and trees, all along the procession route, that lent its own kind of uniqueness or even a rustic charm to the grand finale.

During the days of my childhood, I have been in every one of those places and even perched on the shoulders of my older family members, to have a better and uninterrupted view of the Dasara procession! 

Incidentally, if you look at archival pictures of the Dasara procession or even the many beautiful murals depicting it, on the walls of our Amba Vilas Palace, you’ll find this practice was prevalent and popular even from that era. Those paintings have been executed so well that the faces of all the people assembled in front of the Palace at the commencement of the Dasara procession can be identified easily and they have even been listed by name in the footnotes alongside.

And when you look at the many paintings of the procession itself, you can see the different expressions of elation, wonderment, reverence, intrigue and curiosity on the faces of all the people alongside the road and on tops of the buildings lining the Doddapete, the present-day Ashoka Road, that was the original Jumboo Savari route until the year 1936. 

But a very funny turn that this year’s Dasara took and which most people perhaps failed to notice in their exhilaration, was the draping of the Mahishasura Statue atop the Chamundi Hill in an oversized blue plastic skirt, to keep it out of bounds from the small flock of his fans and admirers, who have been trying over the recent years, to perform pujas and offer their respects to him during Dasara time.

Yes, despite being painted in local mythology as a demon, this now brightly painted embodiment of evil, has his own share of devotees which only seems to be growing steadily!

But although I am not able to say whether his new skirt deterred them or not, it certainly lent his fierce countenance a very odd and almost comic look, something he had never been shown in, over the many centuries of his existence.

Talking of the centuries and the age of this statue, I cannot help feeling that there is something amiss. Available records say that it was erected during the reign of Dodda Devaraja Wodeyar, the thirteenth Maharaja of Mysore, who ruled from 1627 to 1673. He was the same man who built the steps that take devotees up the hill, and commissioned the most imposing, monolithic statue   of Nandi, midway.

Those were the days when statues of both deities and demons were usually carved from stone. But this statue of Mahishasura seems to be made of some kind of mortar, a more recent building material. I say this because at least on two occasions in the past, I have seen chunks of mortar having fallen away, once from his broadsword and once from the serpent he is holding, exposing the reinforcing metal lattice inside.

And, if it was another monolithic statue, carved from stone, why was it allowed to be painted upon so colourfully as it has always been? Some learned historians should be able to shed more light on this matter, on which I am clearly not competent enough to comment.

Having seen the good-old Mahishasura in his new avatar this year, I cannot help wondering if this is how he is going to be dressed every Dasara, over the coming years and whether he will be draped in skirts of different colours, to give him a different look, each year to break the monotony!

Whether he was good or bad in how he lived is a matter open to debate, but this draping certainly deprived all our Dasara visitors a glimpse of one of the most iconic sights of our city, which over the years has become an added attraction, especially for little children.

I don’t think any kid has gone back from the spot where he stands, without having a snapshot with him. I have mine too, lying somewhere in the many albums of memories from my yesteryears.

Interestingly, the images of him I have in my mind’s eye, from the days of my childhood, are of an unusually huge and imposing giant. It was always a much-awaited and awe-inspiring moment for me, whenever he suddenly loomed into view, as our car turned the last bend in the hill road.

But as I grew up over the years, his stature stopped seeming so overpowering, perhaps because while I grew up, he failed to grow up with me and now, like an old friend, I can see him, eye to eye!

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