You open the balcony door to a May morning expecting bright
sunshine and hot air blown in your face. Instead it's cool and breezy. This,
you might experience only in Bangalore perhaps!
When I landed a month back in the city my only concern was
the evident lack of everything ‘Bombay’. There are no local trains, no sea
face, no mash up of Marathi and Hindi and the long list of amazing places to
satiate your taste buds. I missed all this and more the moment I read the sign ‘Welcome
to Bangalore’ written in Kannada.
At first it was mentally tiring. Not sweating in summer
makes a Mumbaikar very uneasy. Bangalore is either pleasantly cool or sunny and
dry in summer. The Mangoes taste like Frooti here and finding a samosa stall is
like Finding Nemo in the big bad
ocean. There are too many main roads to count and the concept of 17th
cross road is hard to figure out. Knowing “Kannada gotille” roughly meaning “Don’t
know Kannada” doesn’t get you anywhere either. Amidst unfamiliar faces then suddenly
the feeling of home sickness dawns upon you. You are all alone in a new city. Your
family is away, worried about your safety and health. Your friends are sending
updates on where all they partied. You then end up spending most nights on the
terrace looking out for familiar stars.
After spending three weeks though, the city kind of grows on
you. The Masala Dosa in an Adiga is so much better than the average
udipi in Bombay. Kannada is not a difficult language to learn. The weather is
unbelievably good for summer. The first time it rained in the evening and as
soft cool breeze blew, I had to remind myself that it's still summer season. Roads
are very accurately named here and giving directions is the easiest job in the
world once you get hang of things. The frustrating part is communicating the
address in broken Kannada to the auto driver. He would want to be sure where
exactly you want to go not before making fun of how you pronounce ‘Bilekahalli’
. That never happened to me in Bombay. You get into the auto and tell him “
Waterfield road chalo” and he will take you there even when he is blindfolded .
Whether it is ‘some big white house’ or a restaurant in some corner of the city
autowallas in Bombay have never failed me. It is like a doctor-patient
relationship, I have learned to trust them. As the roads are accurately named
and well maintained in Bangalore, I learned to walk distances instead of taking
autos. This turned out to be a great thing. The lady in the flower shop smiles
at me every morning as I pass her shop, the local supermarket lady doesn't
insist for exact change and I know each lane and corner of the locality back in
and out.
New cities make you more aware and curious.For a person who
never had Sambar, I am now an avid lover of Idli-Sambar. Those Manglorean
recipes of fish curry are even more mouth watering. For some reason, the curd
rice here is softer and lovelier. No more cravings for roti and parathas. The
weekends used up for sulking in the room missing friends and family are now
being utilized for exploring the city. Do I miss Bombay? Of course I do, with
all my heart. Although now, I have learnt
to not hate Bangalore.
P.S: Pardon the grammatical mistakes, will edit the post later.:)
