One-of-a-kind ride to Xmas party

NJ Ravi Chander

The fag-end of the year is always a time for Christmas cheer and merriment. My maternal uncle, MD Umapathi, vividly recalls his date with Christmas in Bengaluru in the early 1940s. Back then, there was a small military train operated by the Madras Sappers and Miners which ran a few kilometres on a narrow-gauge line in the cantonment. On Christmas, the train ferried families of defence personnel belonging to the Royal Indian Engineers, also called Madras Sappers, from the MEG Officers’ Mess, Fraser Town, to the end of the Training Battalion near Cox Town, and back to the mess for a few hours of party and fun. My uncle’s father and my maternal grandfather, a Lieutenant, would accompany his children. Family members would be picked up in a military jeep from their quarters at Jalahalli, herded into a truck and taken to the venue for a joyride on the military rail.

The train would meander its way past vineyards and defence lands. Bengaluru was a one-horse town back then, with big open spaces and empty streets. Though the ride was short, travelling in the open train and taking in the sights, sounds and sunshine on the way was a thrilling experience for the kids. Even the adults looked forward to the ride with childlike enthusiasm.

The passengers would hop off the train at the Officers’ Mess to join the revellers at the Christmas celebrations hosted by the Army unit. The locomotive would terminate at the Sappers’ Workshop, further up the road. It was a gala event; the venue appeared resplendent with colourful balloons hanging from the ceiling. The lush green cover inside the campus and the troop of monkeys on the treetops amused the children.

The Christmas tree, grandly decorated, and a big star illuminated in the evening, would greet visitors. When the evening was still young, a soldier decked up as Santa Claus would surprise the kids with gifts. My uncle recollects his gift in the form of four miniature aeroplane toys of various hues, with the names of countries embossed on them. My mother held on dearly to the adorable doll presented to her. The guests gorged on cakes and goodies, specially made for the festive occasion. The military band that played music on the sidelines was a unique attraction. After the celebrations concluded, and it was time to leave, the kids bade farewell reluctantly!

The grand old locomotive runs no more, but stands on the MEG campus as a reminder of a bygone era. As a tiny tot, I recount seeing a metal bridge atop the tracks on the Artillery Road in Fraser Town, which enabled the foot-borne Sappers, affectionately called thambis (younger brothers in Tamil) to criss-cross from the MEG maidan to the mess. These markers of history have long since disappeared along with the track.

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