<p>In the 1960s, Kolar Gold Fields was a bustling mining hub. I vividly remember my visits to my aunt's house in KGF. The golden period for KGF began when John Taylor & Sons, a British firm, took over in 1880 (the Mysore government took the helm in 1956). This town, with a number of Anglo-Indian and British families, earned the moniker "Little England". Tens of thousands of workers emigrated from Tamil Nadu to work in the mines, making Tamil the most spoken language in KGF.</p>.<p>Long-time residents remember the loud explosions, followed by the rattling of windows and the clattering of dishes; some structures even developed cracks. These detonations, which sounded a stark alarm, brought people out of their homes in fear. A popular Tamil joke did the rounds back then: "Keelay ponaa ponam, mele vandha panam." (If you drop down, you are a corpse; if you come up, you are rich.")</p>.<p>The air pumped through the ducts helped keep the temperature inside the mines bearable, but it grew warmer as you descended. Haunting tales were told of miners claimed by landslides or cave-ins in the depths of the mines. A siren's wail brought the entire town to the scene of calamity, and anguished cries rent the air, and the new recruits trembled.</p>.<p>Mahesh Babu, a KGF local and friend, takes me back in time whenever we meet. Fondly, he gazes back and recounts the sight of workers pedalling their way to and from work. Navigating the road during rush hour was tricky as cyclists flooded the road. Serenity soon descended as the labourers reached their posts. Clad in boots, cowhide belts, and helmets, torches ablaze, they embarked on their shifts. Etched in his memory are visitors to the mine who descended in a cage that swayed precariously. </p>.<p>Life in KGF itself was a picnic, even amidst the perils of delving into the deep mines. Multitudes gathered on the vast open grounds to watch a movie that only cost a few annas. Giant, transparent screens hung on metal poles allowed all to watch the film from either side. On bamboo mats spread across the ground, the merrymakers feasted on homemade snacks. Their whistling and clapping made it feel like a celebration. Those on bikes caught the show without dismounting. Movies, often repeated, were screened three times a month.</p>.<p>The English overseers enjoyed exclusive privileges denied to the average worker. Paydays brought cheers, and vendors took advantage of the situation. Babu becomes sentimental, remembering those special occasions when his father came home with bags of treats and finery.</p>.<p>Babu remembers Indira Gandhi receiving a four-piece gold cutlery set during her maiden visit to Bharat Gold Mines Ltd (BGML). The town that gleamed with gold has lost its sheen and transformed into a dust bowl. But leaves a trail of rich memories.</p>
<p>In the 1960s, Kolar Gold Fields was a bustling mining hub. I vividly remember my visits to my aunt's house in KGF. The golden period for KGF began when John Taylor & Sons, a British firm, took over in 1880 (the Mysore government took the helm in 1956). This town, with a number of Anglo-Indian and British families, earned the moniker "Little England". Tens of thousands of workers emigrated from Tamil Nadu to work in the mines, making Tamil the most spoken language in KGF.</p>.<p>Long-time residents remember the loud explosions, followed by the rattling of windows and the clattering of dishes; some structures even developed cracks. These detonations, which sounded a stark alarm, brought people out of their homes in fear. A popular Tamil joke did the rounds back then: "Keelay ponaa ponam, mele vandha panam." (If you drop down, you are a corpse; if you come up, you are rich.")</p>.<p>The air pumped through the ducts helped keep the temperature inside the mines bearable, but it grew warmer as you descended. Haunting tales were told of miners claimed by landslides or cave-ins in the depths of the mines. A siren's wail brought the entire town to the scene of calamity, and anguished cries rent the air, and the new recruits trembled.</p>.<p>Mahesh Babu, a KGF local and friend, takes me back in time whenever we meet. Fondly, he gazes back and recounts the sight of workers pedalling their way to and from work. Navigating the road during rush hour was tricky as cyclists flooded the road. Serenity soon descended as the labourers reached their posts. Clad in boots, cowhide belts, and helmets, torches ablaze, they embarked on their shifts. Etched in his memory are visitors to the mine who descended in a cage that swayed precariously. </p>.<p>Life in KGF itself was a picnic, even amidst the perils of delving into the deep mines. Multitudes gathered on the vast open grounds to watch a movie that only cost a few annas. Giant, transparent screens hung on metal poles allowed all to watch the film from either side. On bamboo mats spread across the ground, the merrymakers feasted on homemade snacks. Their whistling and clapping made it feel like a celebration. Those on bikes caught the show without dismounting. Movies, often repeated, were screened three times a month.</p>.<p>The English overseers enjoyed exclusive privileges denied to the average worker. Paydays brought cheers, and vendors took advantage of the situation. Babu becomes sentimental, remembering those special occasions when his father came home with bags of treats and finery.</p>.<p>Babu remembers Indira Gandhi receiving a four-piece gold cutlery set during her maiden visit to Bharat Gold Mines Ltd (BGML). The town that gleamed with gold has lost its sheen and transformed into a dust bowl. But leaves a trail of rich memories.</p>