The Stanes, the Somasundaram and the Kaleeswara mills lay within the city limits with lots of daily inductees of labor waiting at the gates anxiously speculating their prospect. They knew they would have their opportunity somewhere around. The city would somehow provide employ in some sort of industrial facilities it had already laid open.
The city had no central bus stand then, and the commuters had to land at different rural bus stands for various destinations. But that did not cause a hassle, as the native Coimbatore folks were the most enterprising, and never would they feel defeated in their endeavors.
The railway station had just four platforms, where the men passengers would sit care freely smoking beedees on hot cement benches while their counterparts standing near them with the kids on their hips and baggage clinging to their back. The sheep, dogs and goats would usually be lying underneath the neem trees in the simmering sun, without caring which train passed them and when. The tea stalls run by the bearded keralite contractors would have swarming bees on the serving tables, where you would get special Ooty varkee and double strong chaya, served hot.”Kollaaam! Alle..?”
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