Neighbourhood tales get stored for posterity

Bengaluru historians track local history through stories told by residents even as Bengaluru is set to host an international oral history conferenceAnyone could challenge Gunboat Jack to a bout in those days. So did young Koshy Oommen, fresh from earning his boxing champion title from Bishop Cotton school. But beating Jack, the strapping American ex-soldier and stuff of boxing legends, wasn't easy, in the 1940s. So a "small little deal" was struck, and both of them sparred and weaved in front of a packed audience at the carnival. Oommen won the match and a few hearts, a happy spinoff of the arrangement.There are hardly any carnivals now and Jack is the stuff of urban legends. But the story of this bout is worth recounting and Oommen Koshy knows it. There are many such nuggets from the past, all vividly told by his father. To Oommen and a generation of Bengalureans, the pains and tribulations of the Second World War seemed far away as 'Bangalore' remained a paradise in the 1930s and 40s. "It was a different life," says Koshy, chairman and managing director of Koshy's, dipping into his collection ­­ brawls on Brigade Road that could rival the ongoing Euro Cup fracas or the three Parsi women who threw galas and hosted touring French socialites.Who said history is written by victors alone? A few historians are listening to stories like these told by ordinary denizens of Bengaluru to create a parallel archive of memories to complement dusty gazettes and tomes. The Bangalore Storyscapes project has a little over 30 such stories and anecdotes from visitors and residents of Malleswaram and MG Road collected since 2012. Now, historians from Centre for Public History (CPH) at Srishti Institute of Art, Design and Technology are documenting the oral history of Ulsoor and Basavanagudi.Losing past:Oral history is a method of collecting, archiving and interpreting the voices and memories of people. In India, there is a need to speak to people as their experiences have not been recorded. "The US and Europe have been archiving oral history ever since the tape-recorder was invented," says professor Indira Chowdhury, director of CPH. "We have missed talking to one generation about their experience of growing up in colonial India and the transition into independent India. Oral history is important because we have been lax in putting together the archives of contemporary history," says Professor Chowdhury, who is part of a team organising the 19th International Oral History Conference from June 27 to July 1 here.Unlike formal historical studies, oral history gives space to diverse voices. Avehi Menon, curator at CPH, and her colleagues seek life stories of participants through interviews. Often, personal stories tend to intersect with larger historical events. "It is this lived experience and memory of the past that we wish to engage with," says Menon.The current project started in the city with interviews of scientists at NCBS and later at Malleswaram. Professor Chowdhury and team connected with elders of Nightingales Elders' Enrichment Centre in Malleswaram to know the area better.Soon, the historians turned their attention to MG Road with its old family establishments and iconic eateries.The first port of call are the 'gatekeepers' of the neighbourhood, especially those who have been in an area for generations. "The rest is a sort of snowball effect, people share contacts of people they know and we connect with them," says Menon.Memories linger:The approach varies in each area. In an old commercial hub like MG Road, stories were mostly memories of shops and cafes, from Indian Coffee House to erstwhile Plaza Theatre. In Basavangudi, which was designed to house various com munities, people remembered making friends in multi-cultural schools and celebrating Independence with relatives. "The place has a different culture from Cantonment," says Menon.The process of collecting history through memories makes it a subjective exercise. "More than the location, it is the memory of that space that lingers," says Menon. For instance, going for ice cream to Lakeview was an important ritual after a movie or on a first date. Plaza might have been demolished but it is still on top of the mind for someone who has seen 'Ten Commandments' five times. Koshy's was the place to be seen rubbing shoulders with Britishers.Then there was the curious case of 3-Aces, which meant different things to different people. "It is no longer there on MG Road but according to people, it used to be a bar, a club, a dance bar, a cabaret," says Menon. They all agreed on one thing: it was a dimly lit exclusive place where one went to dance without telling parents. "It seemed like there was a sense of forbidden about it and it looks like a happening night club became a cabaret," says Menon.When some of these stories became complementary audio commentary for a city walk, the results were interesting. Maya Hemant Krishna, a community manager at a publishing house, found herself in an alley to find an old theatre off MG Road. "While a walk down Brigade road amounts to shopping and eating these days, there was a time when Italian prisoners walked down the same street to shop."The Italians, who were allowed to shop only from certain stores, were not an oddity. Their presence brought the reality of World War to cosmopolitan Cantonment. Independence was about marching around leafy Basavanagudi with tricolour for one interviewee. Another associated the Partition with the arrival of Sindhis in her neighbourhood.The exercise makes one question notions about identity. A Tamil Kannadiga Christian from Basavanagudi told Menon that she had more in common with Brahmins in her neighbourhood than fellow Christians in Cantonment. "It is an interesting point when you think about who is a Bangalorean," she says.