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Memories of the Dasara

Invariably for every old Mysorean, Dasara forms a crucial part of their lives. So is the case with acclaimed photographer T.S. Satyan. In his autobiography, In Love with Life: A Journey Through Life in Photographs, he recounts the grandeur of the festival in a vivid manner.

Here is an excerpt:

"I cannot forget the spectacle of jamboosavari, the royal procession. The cavalcade of uniformed soldiers, caparisoned horses and elephants, dancers and floats fascinated me. There were brass bands, which had harmonised Indian and Western tunes. The colourfully attired palace guards and the Mysore Lancers marched in military precision, followed by the Camel Corps — with each animal swaying in step. There were folk dancers swirling past in riotous rhythm.

Clouds of rose petals cascaded on the Maharaja from nowhere and descended on the golden howdah. The crowds on either side of the road, some twenty or thirty deep, rent the air with shouts of "victory" to the Maharaja, every time the mahout stopped the mount to receive garlands and bouquets offered by those waiting below the welcome arches. They placed the flowers on a silver platter fixed to a pole and carried by Siddiah, a palace attendant. At 7 feet 2 inches, Siddiah, the tallest man in town, wearing a blood-red long coat and huge turban, drew everyone's attention as he walked beside the elephant to lift the plate close to the howdah so that the Maharaja could take the garlands."

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