Ghost, Funny Stories and Plain Tales from the Cabaret: Extract: No sex, some drugs and a lil-bit-o Rock ‘n Roll

Tale 1: THE LEGEND OF THE SMOKING GRAVE:

Lourd Raj and Noel Welcome were Cult figures right far back from the 1970s. They were the “Nawabs” who had their own “Durbar” like “Mehfils” – a circle of friends who got together to smoke “Ganja” (Marijuana). Lourd’s “mehfil” was on the Parade Ground just above the old M.G. Road. Today, the scenery has changed, thanks to the “Bengaloru Namma Metro”. Noel Welcome’s “mehfil” was in the Austin Town Park. At each of these, their respective followers would land up measuring up to two dozen each. Every Evening. Putting in their attendance even better than they would at their jobs, college or school. In full swing, there would be as many as 3 “chillums” going round 20 odd smokers, with the “Nawab” sitting ruling the “durbar” like an Oriental Potentate.

My friends and I, of course had our own “mehfils/durbars”. There was Barry’s Garage and Shekar’s Place. But we often went to join Lourd’s “Mehfil” on M.G. Road, It was just opposite “3Aces” a restaurant / night club and the newly formed “Human Bondage” Bangalore’s Iconic first Band were performing there. The “mehfil” was accessed through a rough hole in the hedge and barbed wire fence. There was negligible noise from the traffic on M.G. Road in those days and we could hear the Band perform right across the street without having to buy our way in.

Noel Welcome was in Clarence School with me, one class junior. But every Friday, Noel, Tony Prakash & I were regulars on the weekly “caning” line up for corporal punishment dished out by Mr. Flack, our disciplinarian Australian Principal– we three always accumulated the maximum black conduct marks in a week. Later, Noel took up to music had a Band for some time and eventually joined the Cabaret Hotels. He had a long history of Marijuana and Alcohol usage and eventually passed away due to cirrhosis. I got to take Noel’s job in Revolving Hotel when he had become too sick to play.

Noel’s “mehfil” had around a dozen regulars who all hero-worshipped him and called him “Maam” in Bangalore Slang which loosely meant “elder uncle”. They still met up in their old adda, mourning him with booze and grass. One evening, a month after the burial, the gang decided to visit his grave close by in the Hosur Road Cemetery. They assembled around the grave solemnly exchanging their stories of Noel over drinks and smokes. Just as they got up to leave, one of them suggested:

“Let’s leave a boom for ‘Maam’.” So, with deep devotion and affection, the prepared a clean “chillum” of Ganja, put a “Saafi” or filter cloth around the mouth, and stuck it into the grave, which was still just a mound of earth, the gravestones yet to be placed.

Early morning, next day, one of the guys had gone to the Grave. He must have been “turkeying” for an early morning boom. He arrived at the grave and found the chillum still stuck into the mound with the “saafi” still intact, but the “chillum” was empty – only a bit of silvery ash remained at the bottom. “GHOST!!” He though in terror and ran to inform the rest of the gang – who first accused him of bluffing and smoking up the “chillum”, and when he denied it accused each other of doing the same, till it became clear that none were involved.

“Let’s all go today evening too and keep another “chillum” after swearing on Noel’s grave that none of us would smoke it. We all come back together at the earliest tomorrow morning and check this thing out”. They did and returned next morning to find the “Chillum” smoked again without being moved from where they had put it! The story had spread and another friend decided to conduct an experiment without informing the others. He went to the grave and planted a filled “Chillum” and then covered it with twigs and dried leaves in a random fashion, but which he noted and remembered. Next morning, when he returned, the twigs and leaves were exactly where he had placed them – but the “Chillum” was smoked clean!!!

Now, I do not guarantee the veracity or truthfulness of this story which was related to me by Ramesh the Drummer. Raju (Napoli) tells me that Ramesh is a great fibber and most of his stories are fiction. I am quite sure the next one about Raja (Shorty) Fernandez is also a big fib, but they are all too good not to relate.

Tale 2: STOVE-BUCKET RAJA:

Raja is a naturally very likeable person. He had the natural jolliness of the short and plump. On stage he was a great entertainer always in a prankish banter with the rest of the band, the Dancers and the Customers too. The dancers particularly liked him.

Dancers, were unlike the musicians, on three month contracts and were rotated between other cities having Cabaret – Hyderabad, Mangalore, Pondicherry, Chennai and Kochi. Raja had a spare room in his house in Gun troop Colony. He would offer this to one of the girls as accommodation for the period of her contract in Bangalore. The girl would probably come with just a suitcase, so Raja would donate to her some basic living gadgets like a Stove, a Bucket and a Mug and a few utensils. When the dancer had finished her contract and was leaving for the next, Raja would give her the Stove and Bucket telling her “I’m sure you’ll need it when you reach the next place.” The girl would, of course, gush with gratitude and even more affection for Raja.

In a few days, he would again give the room to the next Dancing girl from the new batch. Again he would give her a Stove, Bucket etc. for her use. This had happened several times and one day, Raja asked Ramesh the Drummer to the market to a shop.

“The usual,” Raja told the Shop Keeper.

The stop keeper took out One Stove, One Bucket, One Mug, One cooking vessel and gave it to Raja who paid him. But he also asked Raja, “What is this Raja? You come regularly every three months and buy these things. What happens to them?”

From this incident Ramesh the Drummer named him “Stove Bucket Raja”.

  

Tale 3: INDIA’s FASTEST LEAD GUITARIST

One day, I ran into Ramesh the Drummer just outside Sound Glitz on Brigade Road, This was a few years back. He was with another, a Bengali much younger than us. I recognized him from the Posters which had been displayed around the music Store, featuring “Parineet Gosh – India’s Fastest Lead Guitarist”.

Ramesh introduced us: “Parineet, this is Professor Srinivas – he is one of the senior Guitarists of Bangalore”, and then to me “Chod, this is Parineet. He is India’s fastest Lead Guitarist”.

But then he took me aside and said:

“Chod, ivannukku romba sooth kolluppu. Nee thaan avanai shooth adikonom” (Chod, this fellow has too much head weight. Only you can set him right).

So I told Parineet that I would like to hear him play. We went in to the Music Store and connected up a Guitar and Amplifier.

Parineet took off on a long riff, playing around 240 notes a minute. It was in Key but meandered between arpeggios and chromatics rather without connection.

When he finished, I told him, “Parineet that was very good and really very fast.” Then I added:

“Parineet, do me a favor. Can you repeat what you just played – same notes, same riff – at half the speed you did just now?”

He was first non-pulsed by my request, but any way bravely took up the guitar. He started, fumbled, stopped, started again and finally gave up, when I told him “Doesn’t matter, It’s OK”.

Once outside Ramesh told me: “That was good Chod. I owe you a gift.” Unfortunately, at that time I was not drinking or smoking.

Tale 4: AYUDHA POOJA AT OMAR KHAYYAM

Every business, Every Hindu –owned Business as well as many Non-Hindu Businesses celebrate Vishkarma / Saraswathi and Ayudha Pooja on the Ninth day of Navaraathri or Dusserah. It is a day to worship your business and all the implements, the devices you use and even your work place.

Even a Cabaret Hotel like Omar Khayyam on Brigade Road had to have a pooja. It was owned by Mr. Ranganathan, but had the backing of the former Don Muththappa Rai. Both were devout Hindus.

With so many businesses and domestic houses wanting to do the same thing and buy the same provisions, everything was at premium – sweets, coconuts, flowers, fruits, Banana Leaves and Stalks, vegetables too. The biggest shortage was Brahmin Priests or Poojaris who could recite the necessary Sanskrit / other slokas and perform the rituals.

Mr. Ranganathan was worried. He called us together at the end of the Cabaret Show and asked for help.

It was Ramesh the Drummer, who immediately responded “Sir, our Chod – Srinivas is a Poojari – he knows all the prayers” (which I actually did not). He agreed as there was no other choice.

“How will you do the Pooja?” he asked me, “What will you need?”

I asked for a sheet of paper and a pen and started noting down a long list. As Mr. Ranganathan watched the list grow in length and expense, he remarked “Now, I can see you are a real Poojari” (which I was not).

I have always been “Ritual” if not Religious. I recite the Vishnu Sahasaranaamam as often as possible. I find that it is an excellent exercise in Vocalization, Melody, Meter and Diction – very useful for me as a singer. I also have a book with several poojas and slokas, which I use to read the necessary ones on Ganesha, Saraswathi Pooja, Krishna Jayanthi and even Aavani Aatam which coincides with Raksha Bandhan and I change my Brahminical Holy Thread every year. (The old one would qualify as the dirtiest length of yarn).

I reached the hotel on my cycle with a bag and a small bunch of grass (No. holy grass - Darbai). I had decided not to do a “homa”. I found that all the items had been arranged on the stage, flowers, fruit, two lamps and even a low “mannai” or stool for me. I had bought my 9 yard “Panchakachcham” Veshti, and I retired to the back room and had a bath, put on my namma and draped the Veshti in orthodox style. The mike, the same which we sung through every night, had been put in place so I could squat and read the slokas. Everybody accepted the incongruity that the same stage, where women gyrated and stripped just the night before, was the venue of the pooja.

I did the pooja with a Ganesha sloka, a Lakshmi Stotra and the Sahasaranaamam. At the end I took the “Aarti” plate – with burning camphor around all the assembled guests.

All the Dancers of Omar Khyaam and many from all the hotels on Brigade Road – Chin lung, Basco, Sona Greens, Night Queen had landed up. They had heard that I was doing the pooja. I distinctly heard one of the women tell another:

“Paar Di, Ithulaiyun thaan Rock & Roll” (See, even the slokas he is reciting like Rock and Roll.)

Most of these wonderful ladies of the night would not have gone for such a pooja if they could avoid it. When the “Aarthi” plate came round, they would throw in only a few rupees or coins nominally. But when I took it around, they had decided “after all, our Chod / Srini only”, and I was showered with Fifty and Hundred Rupee notes. I collected around Rs.1, 000/-.

Mr. Ranganathan was there too, with all his patrons including the Don’s henchmen. He was very happy with my performance.

“So, Poojari Sir, “he asked, “What is your Gurudakshina? (Payment?)”

“Sir it’s normally only a Hundred and one Rupees and a Dhoti”, I told him, “but you can forget the Dhoti and give me Beer instead”.

Mr. Ranganathan was dumbstruck and dumbfounded!!

Tale 5: CONFUSED MOVIE STORY

Johnny Stanislaus is another very nice friend from this period. With a very nice voice, Johnny would usually open the show with his melodies, before the band took over for the “Blues”.

So he had another job when he used to sing in Omar Khayaam (not there today). The old Opera Cinema Theatre (still there) was just next door and Johnny had the job of Projector Operator. He would load the Projector with some reels and as they ran he would come down the steps from his projector room and pop across the wall in to Omar Khyaam and do his few songs and go back to his post.

It did not always work out very well. The Opera screened mainly B-Grade movies, mostly Malayalam with lots of titillating scenes. Each movie was packaged in more than a dozen reels in Tin Boxes, with their serial marked. Johnny usually spliced together 4 / 5 reels and loaded it on the projector. But sometimes, in the darkness of the projection room and his hurry to go down to Omar Khayaam for his singing session, he would mix up the reels.

Now these B-grade and other movies which were screened in Opera, had complicated plots with lots of characters and sub-plots. At the end of the show, you would see the audience coming out fully confused, shaking and scratching their heads, wondering where the story started or ended and what was the middle!!!

Tale 6: REVOLVING HOTEL:

Perched on top of a drab 5 – storied Building on BVK Iyengar Road, just across from Napoli was Revolving Hotel. When it was first built in the late 70s, The Hotel actually revolved. The guests were seated on a round turn table that turned a whole circle in about a half hour. The building, was at one time, one of the highest structures and the hotel offered a panoramic view of the city. But in time, the revolving machinery broke down, the glass paneled windows were replaced by plywood and two rows of seats – much like a Spanish bull ring, encircled the circular stage in the center.

The stage had been remade a bit so that a Bank of lights illuminated the dancer. The lights were mostly “Black Light” or U/V Lights. These hid all the blemishes on the dancer’s skin and even her true skin color while highlighting the garish make up, sequins and decorations on whatever little costume she was wearing. There was a small wall fan near the top, with a switch.

Once, when Joshua Alexander (Joe) was playing, there was a senior Dancer who gave a lot of trouble to the Band. The Band could not do a thing as long as she had a relationship with Malhotra, the owner. She would saunter on to the stage, usually late with the music already playing, preen herself and switch on the small fan before reluctantly starting her dance. Joe fixed it by opening the fan’s cover and bending the four plates flat so that it did not actually blow any air. The Dancer never figured why the fan did not cool her down – especially when Joe would launch into the most punchy, fastest song and make her sweat!

Joe also fixed the one elevator in the building. He slowed down the speed at which the elevator ascended from the ground to the fifth floor. In the event of a Police Raid, we were quite sure no Bangalore Cop had the physical energy to storm up five flights of stairs like a commando. No, he would take the “lift”. The lift doors would close leisurely, the lift would ascend slowly – slower than even the first lifts of the 19^th. Century. At the top floor, the door would open as lethargically as possible. Now, on the Ground floor, we always had a “Watchman” in uniform to guide customers in. In one corner was a secret switch on the floor, which the watchman had to press with his foot. Upstairs, in the Dance Hall a red light would start flashing for two minutes. This was our signal that a Police Raid was on! The girls would disappear into the back rooms, we would stop the music and put down our instruments and go and sit in the customer gallery most innocently!!

At Revolving, the Band consisted of Joshua (Joe) Alexander on Lead, Yadav on Drums, Johnny Stanislaus on Vocals and me on Bass. We were all appointed with regular salaries (pitiably little) with various small benefits – like Employees State Insurance and also had ID Cards endorsed by the Police as we always came back very late at night. The ESI Insurance came in helpful when the Cabaret closed. Over 3 months I collected Rs.10 a day from this scheme.

The other member of the Band was Vineesh Venugopal. Joe used to be often busy in recordings and other gigs – with Steve and the Unknowns, so we had needed a substitute. Primarily, I liked him because he grew and maintained the long hair of the Rock Guitarist – like me. Vineesh is one of the best Rock players I have met. I learnt a lot from him too.

At that time, I was playing in another Hotel too – Napoli for the newly added 5.30 PM Show. As the whole Cabaret business was heading towards its final demise, many Hotels had decided to milk the last dregs and added extra shows. Robert, who had a day job in Reynolds, could not get away till at least 6.00 pm.  Manuel, as Band Leader in Napoli, put me in as a substitute for the 5.30 PM Show.  In fact, this was my second opportunity to substitute for Robert. He had had a small accident and fractured the last two fingers of his left (fret board) hand. Manuel insisted that I would be the substitute and for the three months I substituted this period, he helped me to get confident with any music – especially Indian music. He helped me accompany Ms. Aruna Srinivas, an expansive large singer for her Telugu Songs and Siddaraju the male singer for the Kannada Songs. Kuppuswamy, the bass guitarist would also help me along. He helped me learn to play “Mehabooba” from Sholay Movie for the Oriental and supported me in all the Western Rock Music I played.

But at 6.50 PM I had to leave for my regular job at Revolving. If Robert had arrived by this time, I would hand over the Guitar to him. If he hadn’t, I would give it to Manuel who would continue the song in the same way Shorty Anand did when I came across him in Bosco’s three years before. Manuel would give me Rs.25. It was my substitute payment. I would leave Napoli and go down the stairs – to a cubby hole wine shop. There I would buy a “quarter” or 180 m.l. of booze, pour it all in a glass, pour in an inch of water and glug it all down in one long “Glug. Then I would cross Kempegowda Road – even in those days, the traffic was heavy – to Revolving. Reaching leisurely in the slow elevator, I would find the whole band waiting. “Come on, Let’s Start”. But instead of heading to the stage, all trooped into the kitchen to smoke a “Chillum”.

By the time we got into the second song, the booze would hit me, by the fifth song I would be sweating it out and by the last song I would be stone sober, wanting to put down another drink in the short break.

Tale 7: HORLICKS HASSLE

Inevitably, all this boozing took its toll. I collapsed one evening. On stage. I remember, I was singing “Two Princes” by the Spin Doctors, Joe and Vineesh were on Guitars. An old duodenal ulcer I had suddenly burst – the sound came out clearly over the PA. Johnny picked me up and rushed me first to a doctor then home. Next day I had to be operated and spent a week in the hospital.

I was in Hospital for about a week. One day all the dancers from the hotel came and visited me – after making sure my wife was not around. They brought fruits and flowers and I was quite touched. After two weeks, I was back at my post in Revolving.

A little later, one of the dancers fell very sick and had to be hospitalized. The whole band went to see her. We found her family had also come. I asked her mother if there was anything they needed. Her mother told me the girl was very weak and needed Horlicks.

Those days our household provisions came from a nearby shop where we had a running account and used to pay once a month. I went to the shop and took a One Kilo bottle of Horlicks and gave it to the dancer’s mother.

The next day, my wife had gone to the store to pick up a very small bottle of Horlicks. The shop keeper told her “But, you husband picked up a full kilo bottle just yesterday”.

When my confronted me I had to tell her. She was livid quite convinced I was having an affair and Joe had to come and convince her that it was just a bit of misplaced kindness on my part.

Next Chapter : The end of Cabaret.