 It is the time of festival, and the city is all bedecked in her luminous glory. The palace has been lit, and the streets festooned. People are out in their finery, celebrating the spirit of the Sherra. The Sherra, or the festival of lights that comes but once a year, but leaves an afterglow that lasts all of twelve months here. And pageantry marks an event whose present form dates back to the time of the Maharajas. And even in these times of democratic equalness, when more than half a century has elapsed, since the last Maharaja climbed off his throne, all roads during the Sherra still lead to the palace of the Wadiars in the city of Mysore. Srikanth Wadiar, sign of a long line of royals, now ascends the Gaddi, or throne of his forefathers, at once a year on the Sherra day. When the Vijayanagar's empire was on the wane and the Europeans yet to march inland, the Wadiars, small-time chieftains of the region, ignored the authority of Vijayanagar and carved a kingdom for their generations to come. A kingdom that was not only blessed with fertile soil and a temperate climate, but one which saw come to the throne some far-sighted and benevolent rulers, particularly those of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Rulers who incorporated the advancement of science and education into working for the greater good of their subjects. Maharaja had about four cars, first time 1907. At that time we had two cars, then later on four. Sometimes palace requires cars, they used to get our cars, they used to get our drivers. Now you'll see thousands of cars and lakhs of two-wheelers. We had the first car, DD and Spanish Suzer, French car, which was brought by Prince of Wales. Two cars were coming, one Maharaja Mysore took it and one we took it. Aseem Seth is 78 years old and he forms the link between the Mysore of old and the modern Mysore. Born much before independence, this old patriarch had once rubbed shoulders with the royal family, but found his true vocation in the service of the people and later in politics. In acknowledgement of his efforts, he has a locality of Mysore named after him. A rehabilitation scheme that is named as the Aseem Seth Nagar. Modern Mysore today has yet not managed to wipe away its links with the royalty. Though they now mostly house government offices, the palaces and buildings of Mysore present the visage of an early 20th century princely city. The civic architecture of Mysore is a blend of Indo-Sarsenic and the classical European. But there is one building in Mysore that stands apart from all else. A neo-Gothic structure that acts not only as a landmark visible from far and wide but one which stands testimony to the secular nature of Mysore. The foundation stone was laid by late Maharaja and the whole family has helped this for the construction of the church. It has taken ten years to complete the church, 1931 to 1941. The people from different regions, say from Bombay or Madras or from Goa or from abroad, different countries, they have sent a lot of donations and contributions those days. Say 1930s something. All these names are inscripted in the Catechum there, Saint Philomena's Catechum. So you get about more than 5,000 names are inscripted there. Close to the imposing bulk of Saint Philomena's cathedral, Ishmael is busy working in his small one-room factory. Like the erstwhile rulers of Mysore, Sayed Ishmael too has a long lineage. But it was not riches that Ishmael inherited but the tools and knowledge of his forefathers. For he comes of a line of craftsmen who over centuries have created poetry out of wood. Poetry that has given to Mysore one of its recognizable trademarks and to generations of Ishmaels a source of livelihood. Mysore had for long been the nucleus around which developed the indigenous culture of the Karnataka's. The people who spoke the Karnataka language. When the state of Karnataka came into being in 1956, it was around the territory ruled by the kings of Mysore. But it was not Mysore that became the capital of the new state, but Bangalore, 110 kilometers away. Mysore remained the provincial town. A district headquarters that was steeped in history, Mysore escaped the mindless development that typified the second half of the century while it retained most of the romanticism of the first. It was only in the 90s that the city actually began to change. Total population of Mysore was almost 75,000. Then as I grew up, I saw the population of 2 lakhs. Today the population is about 8 to 10 lakhs. And your number of extensions now. Even this is an extension. About 15 years back this extension came into, all these are new layouts. My impression of Mysore was that it was really a garden city as it was known to everybody. It was beautiful, green, lots of flowering trees. And the roads may not have been as broad as they are now, but they were good roads. And the traffic of course wasn't at all heavy. And it was a very friendly, pretty city. The people got on very well. There was no discord between communities. Everyone celebrated their feasts in a very cultured way, enjoyed themselves. Sheila Irani had come to Mysore as a young bride. Having been born and brought up in an Anglo-Indian family in Pune, Sheila had married a Parsi and the young couple established a business in far away Mysore. Now more than four decades since she became a resident, Sheila has fond memories of a city that had welcomed her with open arms. You could never forget Mysore. Once you love the city, you always, wherever you go in India or even abroad, you love to come back. Because there is something that draws you. It's a very strange feeling and it draws you here. I don't know what it is. It's just the peace, the quiet and the meeting of old friends. That's so attractive. The huge and ornamental Brindavan gardens were laid out below the embankments of the imposing Krishna Raja Sagar, made reservoir, set up by a far-sighted Prime Minister of the Mysore Kingdom, the Krishna Raja Sagar, the Associated Dam, and some gardens below, not only created a reservoir or water, but turned out to be one of the major landmarks that was to be always associated with the city. Around 20 kilometres beyond the city limits, the gardens occupy a special place in the heart of Mysore. All over the years, the face of urban Mysore underwent a gradual change. There are areas and activities in and around the city that seem untouched by time. With all hamlets surrounding Mysore, life remains connected to the pale yellow cocoon of the silkworm. These are the satellite settlements whose inhabitants earn their living by tending and nurturing the silkworm. It is silk that had given Mysore its first industry. And though there are big government cooperatives who hold sway over the business, silk still provides the means of a livelihood to the likes of 44-year-old Shri Kand and his family. The whole family participates in the daily chore of rolling the fine silk thread that would one day be woven into the famed Mysore silk saris. Saris that would adorn the bridal true-soak of many a woman from far and wide. The silk saris are bought by local customers. The poor and the rich are bought only by the locals. The locals and the villagers are also bought by silk. The silk saris must be bought in the wedding. People come from abroad, tourists and from other countries. They take material and saris from here and go there and wear them. Overlooking Mysore, there is a small hill, the 1062-metre-high Chamundi Hill. The seat of the Hindu goddess Shri Chamundeshwari. The goddess was the family deity of the Maharajas of Mysore and legend has it that the demon Mahishasura was slayed by the goddess. The city of Mysore derives its name from the demon the goddess slayed. It is in another corner of Mysore that Zakir Bhai has his small Bengal shop. Sayat Zakir Pasha's family have been residents of Mysore for as long as anyone can remember. His was a family that had survived at the lower end of society and it was only in the past decade or so that Zakir and his brothers had opened their small businesses. Having achieved some measure of economic stability, Zakir found the time and inclination to participate in a community sport that accorded him a further degree of social respectability. When I started practising, I started to know something. From there, my name was improved and then my name was promoted. By saying Zakir, Zakir, Zakir. Since then, I know something. Otherwise, if I didn't practise wrestling, nobody would have known me. Wrestling schools or thalim as they are known here attract a lot of interest among the locals. But it is the youth belonging predominantly to the Muslim community who are the members and every morning in and around the Mohallas of Mysore the youth arrive at their respective thalims to practise and to share in the brotherhood the sport accords its practitioners. For practise, we are all together. We practise a lot. For example, when I have a competition, all the boys come together and practise with me. Not like this, brother Zakir, but like this. That's how I get excited. While Zakir and his friends are busy wrestling, the higher echelons of Mysore society are also up early in the morning at the 110-year-old Royal Mysore Turf Club. Situated in the flats below the Chamundi Hills, the RMTC, which has always had a restricted membership, attracts not only the race jockeys and the stable owners, but also the golfing enthusiast. The Maharaja sold the property to the club in the year 1969. One of the conditions he had set forth was that Mysore Race Club should promote the game of golf, which we have been doing, we conduct annual tournaments and it attracts the cream of players from South India and sometimes people come from as far as Assam. In 1989, the golf club Jai Cham Rajivadir Golf Club has been formed and now they are looking after the course maintenance, etc. The Government of India's tourism department has pumped in a lot of money and the course has been upgraded to international standards. In the early years, the RMTC had been under the control of the kings of Mysore and had been run on the lines of a private club. In 1968, the club became a limited company and from a mere 60 to 70 horses then it grew in popularity and by the late 90s, more than 700 horses are taking part at the races here. Though smaller in size compared to the clubs of Calcutta, Mumbai or Bangalore, the Royal Mysore Turf Club is very much a part of the city and is also unique in at least one aspect. This course was built in early 1900s. It's about 23 years old and the course was designed by an Australian architect and it's designed as a Monson architect even if it paused for 2 hours within 20 minutes it can conduct racing. Unlike other race courses where once it rains, it's finished. You have to pack up. The club is taking efforts to market the game and the plans are on the way to telecast it live to the other cities in India as well as to neighbouring countries like Sri Lanka and a lot of interest from Dubai where advertisement revenue is bound to come in and that will add to the growth of the city and the club in general. Thalavane Krishna completed his studies and left Mysore to seek his fortune in a foreign land. Having practiced medicine with a certain amount of success, Dr. Krishna married and lived a comfortable life in the US for 20 years. But Mysore had always been special and he wanted to do something different. When I was in America, I saw how Ayurveda is spreading in the west and I felt it was very necessary to start a centre in India which is of international standards so we can represent Ayurveda globally. Mysore is very rich with the history of Ayurveda. There are Ayurvedic colleges here. During the Maharaja's time it was a very flourishing system of medicine here. So there is a lot of cultural tie up and bondage for Ayurveda in Mysore. Life continues in Mysore as it follows a laid back pattern. The inhabitants of the city go about their daily chores and life goes on. But life in Mysore had been irrevocably changed sometime in the first quarter of the 20th century when a small sweetmeats shop inaugurated their latest offering and Mysore Park was born. Mysore Park has been here for the past 100 years. This is what our ancestors used to do during the 20th century. They used to make sweetmeats in the early 20th century. Our ancestors used to make sweetmeats from them. Our ancestors used to make sweetmeats from them. Our ancestors used to make sweetmeats from them. Our ancestors used to make sweetmeats from them. They used to make sweetmeats from them. From this small rudimentary kitchen, Kumar and his two brothers continue to keep their families trist with the pallet of Mysore. More than 30 kilos of the sweet is sold every day from their small shop in the centre of town. And every day people throng to buy their quota of the heady sweet. A sweet that aptly took its name from the city of its birth. A sweet that is reflected in the nature of the city's inhabitants.