City’s vanishing tower clocks
Have we ever wondered what would have happened to Cinderella if the clock tower near the King’s Palace had not struck 12 and warned her of the time when the magic transformations would vamoose?
The Fairy Godmother’s array of blessings — a ball gown, pumpkin carriage, and glass slippers for Cinderella — did not include a time-keeping device, but only a stricture to heed a specified time. Obviously, the Godmother knew of the existence of the clock tower in town, a functioning one at that.
The folk fable of Cinderella was first published in 1697. However, clock towers have been the life-centre of towns for aeons. With time taking its toll, some of them have forgotten to chime and strike at regular intervals.
Because of their imposing, artistically designed structures, they continue to hold pivotal positions, especially in cities with ancient history and rich culture. Each of them has a story to tell.
Back in time
Before the big clock towers loomed over, time was measured in many ways in the heritage city of Mysuru.
Striking the gong, booming of a gun, turning the lights on and off, and the beating of the drums at the Palace were some of the ways the erstwhile rulers ensured that time was seen and heard by everyone. Most people could not afford pocket watches, which were more of a status symbol.
The Palace, treasury, houses of Aliyandar Krishne Urs and Devaparthiva (son-in-law and grandson of Mummadi Krishnaraja Wadiyar), Attaara Kacheri, Parakala Matha, and cow sheds were places where the gong resonated every hour, as noted by the renowned musician of yesteryears, Vasudevacharya.
At 12 noon, a gun would boom from Gun House located near Southern Gate of Palace. The sound could be heard even in bazaar areas. Guns boomed at 5 am, 12 noon, and 9 pm, indicating the three time zones of waking up, mid-break, and end of the day, and this in some way ensured a cohesive community lifestyle.
Lighting at 6 pm called “lights up” and switching off for a split second in streets and houses were also indicators of time. Those who grew up in that era say that this was a signal for the children to close their books and go to bed — a far cry from the cyber-driven practices followed by the Gen Z.
Ticking through history: The Clock Towers of Mysuru
Mysuru has seen quite a few gadiyara (clock) towers. Some take centre stage, a few are unseen, a few have bitten the dust, and some new ones have sprouted up. Traversing Mysuru, one comes across two visible landmark heritage clock towers, colloquially referred to as Dodda (big) and Chikka (small) Gadiyaras, which stand majestic as proof of time gone by.
Dodda Gadiyara
The clock strike from Dodda Gadiyara, located near the King’s Palace, old Mysoreans say, was heard for around two kilometres or more during night-time.
It was on Aug. 8, 1927 that the tower was declared the Silver Jubilee Clock Tower, commemorating the completion of 25 years of the reign of Krishnaraja Wadiyar IV. On the day of the inauguration, when the King put the clock into action, it struck 25 times. The clock tower will soon be 100 years old, yet in the hustle and bustle of city life, passers-by overlook its presence.
Originally 50 feet in height, the tower was partially dismantled and newly constructed, and the height was increased by adding a Rajasthani dome.
The tower has imbibed the Indo-Saracenic architectural style. A winding teakwood staircase built inside the tower and a balustrade at the apex around the clock, allowing six to eight persons to stand, are among the diligent measures taken to ensure access for maintenance and repairs.
Not many are aware that the clock tower was contributed by Palace staff as a token of “loyalty and devotion by all in service of the Palace, with a fervent prayer that under Divine Providence His Highness may be blessed with long life and his reign rendered radiantly happy, memorable and prosperous” (T.P. Issar, Mysore the Royal City).
Archival records show that a subscription amount of Rs. 5,821.50 was collected by 18 departments of the Palace towards the Silver Jubilee Fund, up to May 13, 1927. Time has taken its toll on the tower. Of late, cracks developed in the structure, causing concern. Some said the bell, weighing 920 kilograms, and its chiming sound were the culprits.
A committee constituted in 2005 did not agree and instead advocated restoration.
There was also an issue of theft in 2021 of the copper grounding rod; experts stress the need to address it as soon as possible, especially given the increased height.
Chikka Gadiyara
Chikka Gadiyara, also called Dufferin Fountain, was inaugurated on Dec. 1, 1886, to commemorate the ceremonial visit of Countess and Lord Dufferin, the Viceroy and Governor-General of India, at the invitation of Chamaraja Wadiyar X.
The inauguration was marked by a State banquet, fireworks, war-dance performances and drama Droupadi Swayamvara at Rangacharlu Memorial Hall.
It is a two-in-one structure with dials on four sides and a fountain at the centre. Old-time shop owners in the vicinity say that earlier they could hear the sound of the gong from a distance of a kilometre.
The year 2012 saw the clearing of the surrounding space, the addition of small fountains and decorative lamps and seating arrangements that enabled cultural programmes to be held.
The clock has since stopped working and shop owners say the person hired to maintain it is not paid regularly — hence the apathy. Dufferin Clock Tower is at the Southern end of Devaraja Market. The two other planned marketplaces that carry the “heritage” tag are Mandi Market and Vani Vilas Market.
Tower at Mandi Market
The one at Mandi bears reminiscence of a clock. Mandi Market was built by Chamaraja Wadiyar X. The market has a box-like structure with stalls in use for over 130 years.
A clock on the welcome arch once held pride of place but has been replaced by a round new clock, which also does not work. Long-standing shop owners do not remember seeing the original clock. Presumably, it was lost long ago; the tower now stands silently watching the transactions.
The market lacks regular maintenance and traders request governing authorities to restore its heritage character.
The architectural style of the building, they say, is unique. If this is done, perhaps thought will also be given to installing an appropriate and working clock.
Clock towers lost to time
Three clock towers that once existed are known today only through images. The one at Vani Vilas Market collapsed in the early 1990s.
The Palace Garage (1912) became debris and so did its clock, as recalled by a condition-based servicing mechanic.
Mysore chronicler Gouri Satya remembers clock towers at KSRTC Bus Stand and Maharani’s High School, though sadly no images exist.
Two other heritage gadiyaras merit attention — at Railway Station & Maharaja’s College. While the former is visible, the latter is not widely known, given its location in the college quadrangle. The Palace Stables (1910) met a similar fate.
The City Railway Station
The Mysuru City Railway Station was remodelled in 1938 by Dewan Sir Mirza Ismail, who ensured that the clock tower was raised in height and aligned so that its vertical axis became central to present-day JLB Road. The clock that once guided passengers rushing to catch trains is now largely ignored.
Maharaja’s College
An old clock in the courtyard of Maharaja’s College, once connected to a large bell, is still kept intact in a room below the flagstaff; one must climb a winding staircase to reach the top. The bell was manufactured in 1938 by Taylor’s Bell Foundry, UK.
The mechanisms that once enabled the clock chime and gong to ring the bell are no longer present. The college authorities are keen — and rightly so — that the clock be restored to working order so that young minds may imbibe respect for heritage and be exposed to the study of Horology.
It would have augured well for the University of Mysore if it had similarly introspected and worked in-house while marking its centenary, instead of constructing a new clock tower at Manasagangothri campus.
Edifice of time…
The century-old legacy of clock towers in Mysuru seems to have revived over the past decade, with new towers sprouting up in different localities. Private players such as Brigade Properties and Infosys have also entered the fray.
The first to scrape the sky is the Centenary Clock Tower at Manasagangothri in 2016 (Pic.1), rising 70 feet. It is a two-in-one clock with a radio installed, enabling students and others to listen to broadcasts while seated on stone benches. That it has become a photo shoot point tells us much about the era we live in.
Shorter, at around 50 feet, is the tower at Sangam Circle (Pic.2), Third Stage, Vijayanagar. It has four dials and a rather poor imitation of a bronze dome attempting an old-Mysore touch. There is no plaque mentioning details.
Echoing the Big Ben replica in Kolkata, a 38-foot clock tower has been built in Udayagiri in 2023 (Pic.3), by the Mysuru City Corporation at a cost of Rs. 31 lakh. Four large dials, each one 2.5 metres in diameter with Roman numerals, stand next to the Madeena Mosque. Dials on two sides do not work.
At Siddaramaiah Circle in University Layout on Dattagalli Outer Ring Road, a clock tower (Pic.4), inaugurated on April, 2022, was built by Mysore University Employees Housing Cooperative Society. A single clock is dwarfed by a large plaque listing dignitaries — a far cry from earlier times. The structure lacks both style and imagination, unfortunate in a city rich in heritage.
Changing times…
In ever-accelerating pace of city life, time has become a blur. Urban living is no longer tuned to clockwork precision; schedules are flexible, fragmented and unpredictable. This reflects a move toward personalised, handheld mobile time, rejecting the orderliness of the past. Yet the importance of clock towers cannot be undermined, as seen in recent additions. However, newer structures often forgo aesthetics — an unfortunate trend for a city proud of its heritage tag.
Many heritage towers require careful conservation within proper heritage precincts. Half-hearted restoration, inappropriate processes and unnecessary tampering risk diminishing antiquity and silencing the stories these towers have narrated for generations. Changing with the times, Fairy Godmother might well have added a mobile phone to Cinderella’s gift hamper to remind her of the time — because, after all, not every clock tower can now be relied upon!
This post was published on February 16, 2026 6:32 pm