Mysore/Mysuru: As the news of Chief Minister Siddaramaiah’s resignation flashed across television screens this morning, an unusual silence descended on the remote Siddaramanahundi, his native village.

At first, many villagers refused to believe the reports. But as confirmation came through, conversations faded and moist eyes quietly revealed the mood.

The usually bustling streets wore a deserted look as many villagers remained glued to their TV sets, while others gathered at street corners and beneath trees, discussing their ‘beloved son’. An unusual silence hung over the village, adding to the sombre atmosphere.

For Siddaramanahundi, Siddaramaiah is not merely a political leader or ‘former’ Chief Minister. He is still “namma Siddu” and “namma Sahebaru”, the boy who grew up among them and never severed ties with his roots.

Residents remembered Siddaramaiah as the young boy walking through village lanes in ‘Hawai’ slippers, attending local fairs and riding a bicycle through narrow roads of the village long before he entered public life.

Villagers recalled that despite rising to the powerful political office in the State, Siddaramaiah never changed when he returned home.

In homes across the village, Siddaramaiah’s photographs continue to occupy a special place on walls alongside family portraits and images of deities.

“No matter how big he became, he remained the same old Siddu for us,” said an elderly resident. “He remembers people by name, visits homes, eats with us and speaks to everyone warmly.”

While politics is common in Bengaluru’s corridors of power, the emotion in Siddaramanahundi went beyond politics. For many here, the resignation felt deeply personal.

One elderly woman summed up the village’s emotions: “I am unable to hold my tears. I leapt with joy when he became the Chief Minister (CM).”

“He may have stepped down from the post, but he can never step down from our hearts,” said another villager.

For Siddaramanahundi, today, May 28, will not merely be remembered as the day a CM resigned. It will be remembered as the day “the son of the soil (Mannina Maga as they call locally) stepped down from high office.”