Memories

I was a scout. A cub, to be precise. My scout troop planned a camp. My father was apprehensive about sending me. I was not even nine yet. The man in charge of the troop came home and persuaded my father. It was one of the most thrilling moments of my then short life and it has remained the same to this day.

The camp was at Byadarahalli. It is just 30 km away from Mysore by rail. Next to the railway track is a hillock and we camped there.

On the second day of the camp, the senior scouts, the Rovers, went on a hike. They were expected to return before nightfall. We were all tense as darkness fell and no sign of them. We were all looking westward periodically, the general direction of their return. In those days there was no electricity in any surrounding villages and it was pitch dark. After what appeared to be an interminable wait, we saw flashes of light from a torch which transmitted the message "we are safe" in Morse code.

Eventually, they came.  With not even a radio at our disposal, we were completely cut off from civilisation. They returning rovers had bad news.

It was the 27th of May, 1964. Nehru was no more. A pall of gloom fell on the camp. 

The next day, we hoisted the scout flag at half mast. Observed a minute of silence. And we went about other scouting activities.

Whenever I travel by train between Mysore and Bangalore, I eagerly wait for this station. The hillock and the small traveller's bungalow on top bring back memories of that memorable day.