To Sir MV, with love and regards

It should have been a rapturous feeling -- to be physically present at the birth place of Sir Mokshagundam Visvesvaraya on his 150th birth anniversary.

It was, to a large extent. Except for the loudspeakers that blared away, the posse of policemen who kept whisking pedestrians aside to make way for the VIP cars, the enormous dais to make room for all the dignitaries, and the rows and rows of students who were lined up to occupy the red plastic chairs. Somewhere, it snatched away the peace and quiet that Muddenahalli is on a normal day with the birds chirping and the lazy air.

"This happens every year on this day. Many politicians come here, they make the same promises and leave. Then the village goes back to being how it is," says Sampangirama, with no hint of anger or resentment. He is a 55-year-old farmer from the neighbouring village, who took the day off from tilling his field so he could watch the programme. He does not know much about Sir MV. "People tell me about Visvesvaraya, but I don't know," he shrugs. All he is concerned about is good water supply for the village, better schools and more buses. 

Papaiah, 60, a farmer from Byrapanahalli says such programmes can be replaced with a tourist exhibition centre centred on the life of Visvesvaraya. "Then, Chikballapur can become a tourist destination. The government should also build a travellers’ bungalow,” he says.

On the road leading to Sir MV's samadhi, Muniyamma and Akkrayamma, (both don't know how old they are) are sitting on the steps of Muniyamma's house, talking. “I told the police to tell me when the big cars come. I ran to the road to see. I didn't go to the fields today because I am here watching the programme,” says Muniyamma with a toothless smile.

Akkrayamma says she met Visvesvaraya during his visits to the district. “My grandfather and he were very good friends. I spoke to him when he was the Dewan,” she says, not concealing her pride.

As the loudspeakers died down and the students made their way out after paying their respects at the samadhi, the villagers settled back to their routine, another anniversary having gone by.  

By the end of the day, no doubt, the birds would have returned. Their chirping will be heard again, at the dawn of another day.