Bangalore.

Not exactly one of my favorite cities, but a city that I have a quiet respect for, and fond memories too.

As much as I know that it is unfair to compare, the city and its people has a sense of self respect, and dignity that needs to be mentioned.

The first time I went to Bangalore, my first bus ride was no joyride. The bus stop was a long stretch around a whole corner , the conductor was rude, I knew of no landmarks that I should look out for, and my usually astounding sense of direction had failed me.

None of this bothered me though. I was enamored by the women I saw on the bus. Neatly dressed, the Sharees with impeccable folds and creases. Oiled hair with a strand of jasmine (?) woven into the coiled buns , or plaits. Very smartly professional, on their way to work, or running a errand. The confidence was quiet; the strength in each flash of backbone within Sharee folds was loud.

I missed home. I remember missing Ma. The women in the western part of the country wear very synthetic , flimsy material called a sari. They come in rainbow colours, and prints that I can only call “Modern art”. They move with the wind, and with the skin. Organza, and chiffon…. But I call them plain nylons. Casually thrown over the shoulder and pinned firmly at the shoulder, they lack the feminity in the way these south Indian women, and the Bangali mohilas wear a Sharee.

There is no “Quick flick over the shoulder of the pallu. The “ anchal” is carefully pleated, folded and arranged over the slender shoulder, or a podgy one ( hehe), and dog -guards the stray bra strap from peeping, but will wickedly allow the collar bone to show off.

I recalled the women I travelled within Mumbai locals or State buses in Gujarat. They were full of spirit, fun and adventure in their cheerful , garrulous banter and their whimsical purchases of salted bitter sweet fruits, combs or safety pins, or household/ kitchen bric-a-brac. These women in the bus I was staring at however were silent and stoic…. But not formidable.

Since then, I have always looked out for such sharee clad women. They give me a sense of quiet. I shamelessly stare at them, wondering if they are going to visit grandchildren, on their way to a doctor, if she is a secretary in some office, if she is a professor. Or maybe a nurse.

I don’t know what implication a streak of vanilla chandan might signify, I like that some of them put an extra flower in their hair, a flower that is the color of English Rose. I don’t know what perfume they wear…. Jasmine, jui , and Rajnigandha. I noticed that while Bangali women have the red-and-white bangles (what ,what, what is the word for it???) , these women have a pair of slender golden bangles on each wrist.

Juice shops and sandwich bars.

Kartik used to tell me of the Bangalore juice shops and bakeries . And I had constructed a very exotic image in my mind, like a bistro. Sitting on some Gujju pavement sipping a “Cutting” of chai, I often imagined “juice and bakery”. And I would smile a private smile. Tiny steel glasses of south – Indian Kaapi, pitchers of juice with a candy striped straw, perhaps a south Indian version of tiny bread rolls in place of Croissants and maida fried eggs for Scotch Eggs.( how silly could I get!)

I think the juices bars in Bangalore beat everything. Found in every single lane and corner, with a magnitude of 3 juices to offer to 15, they were EXOTIC!!! I was amazed at the way they functioned. They made, served, washed and collected payment for as many as 2000 glasses a day. I have, and still do, want to write a thesis paper of sort on how they managed man power, and stock inventory. Their supply chain systems are brilliant. Where else would you have Musk melon juice in February and Water melon juice in October? The sheer abhorrence I had for banana shakes dissolved in Bangalore, they were the real All American Banana Shake, as good as it could ever get. The grape juice (available ALL the year round) from a variety that has a very district taste, a heady grape odor and a rough texture….is something I sometimes crave for. I think the variety was called Bangalore Blue or something, and the very thought causes a rush to the head, and tingles my nose. Though pineapple was never a favorite ( I reserve Pineapple for Certain occasions), I will just HAVE to salute the Pineapples here… they are the SWEETEST and bestest I have had (apart from the July Pineapples).

With all the public coverage that Mumbai Dabbawalas get, and now with Vada Pao being associated with a certain political party under the pre text of Brand Associatons, (?!?!) , hats off to the Bangalore Juicewalas. They show no less entrepreneurship initiatives, integrations….. And god know what not other business management concepts.

“Hot Chips” is another chain that is worth a mention.

While I’m on the topic…. Fondly remembering the “Juice and Bakery” ….. The one at Nags. ( Nagarbhavi); spent many a evening , hungry afternoon and late night conversation on the pavement ( yes, squat, blind and fair square on the pavement, North Campus Style). The one in Sheshadripuram West, at the crossing, and the one just off the main road, where we brainstormed, waited, and took breathers while working with Tata Coffee and Sula. Banshankhari, just out the SPAR office…. Best sandwiches, and even had carrot juice ( yuck!); and cucumber juice with pepper, and lemon with mint.( awesome, exotic and very five star in taste).

Bangalore…. For those who are interested there is more to the place that idli-dosa-rasam.

The Traffic.

I wish I could express how I grit my teeth when people talk about this. Mumbai suffers a incurable, terminal case of traffic. And Gurgaon has a Chronic Case of Traffic. Obviously, if every breathing soul has his car, “in absentia” of public transport

Bangalore: of course there is traffic. The one which just DOES NOT move. However…. Ask a Bangalorean…. And he will never use traffic as an excuse. A) he/ she knows the correct rotes, by -lanes, and little roads by which you can avoid quite a few signals b) a Bangalorean rarely ventures out in the pompadom of this car. B) He/ She is perfectly cool, and more conveniently mobile on a bike. Furthermore they do not suffer hallucinations that opting for public transport causes degradation of the status and social image. it is mostly, as far as my observations go, the displaced and misplaced north Indians in Bangalore who will still want t his car to commute. Really isn’t fair to blame the city for the traffic.

PS: A true Bangalorean will often cycle around town…. Commonly observed.

The city closes at 11!!!!
I wish people realized how terribly desperate, wannabe and frustrated they sound when they complain about this. The way I look at it :

a) It just shows how simple, hard working and good the true Bangalorean/ south Indian is. Work hard, enjoy the evening, and retire when you should

b) it shows how NOT corrupt, and dishonest the cops are that they can staunchly monitor and enforce this

c) no body stops business or work… In any industry or any field… human related, machinery functions or any other operations.

Weed, drugs, alcohol, and sex is all permitted, practiced, and publicized. Openly, bluntly and civilly. No sleaze. Nothing cheap. Drink with dignity, party in style, hang out with the family, freak out with the friends, and when thou art done, beat a graceful exit. They have consideration for women and family , the aged and the children, do not indulge in cheap conversation, unwarranted obscenity ,or rustic and crude forms of expressions and behavioral habits. At least not in public. I think I liked this Bangalore spirit.

There are rarely drug busts, rave checks and whatever other irritating things that the cops do. Bangaloreans are essentially peaceful people, who work hard, have fun in a harmless , quiet way, within the confines of their homes, within their boundaries ( non geographical and non physical), and call it a day.

Eleven o clock is a good time for women to return home, with the cops still on the streets at regular intervals, doing their checks and what not. Transportation is both available and safe. (if a bit expensive).as a woman, I have never felt unsafe traveling, nor have I had to worry about transport. The cops are strict (painfully and irritatingly so… yes but they ARE there).

The crime rate, dimension, magnitude is simply APPALING in Mumbai and Delhi( as they are the only cities who stand competition…Keep cal out of this…. The city is paradise).the Lifestyle of the young and single is clean and happy. Free Sex, Free Booze , and Free Weed is really not “in”. Do what you got to do….. And do it with dignity. Don’t bother, hurt and include them who need not be involved. Don’t attract unwanted attention towards yourself, don’t flash because you got it.(Delhi…??? What say….???)

I like Bangalore. Lovely weather. Lovely People. Slightly Xenophobic (specially when it comes to North Indians, and Delhi-ites particularly) but are over all very cosmopolitan and urban in the correctly progressive way. The Auto Wallas’ are a bitch, the malls are too many, the lights of the Brands really Dazzles….yet, Bangalore is a sweet city.

For all those who don’t know it…. go find Iranian Cha, Pakistan and RT….

Talk about 11. Bhak!!!!