Another strange city. Strange people or people who were once strange and are less strange. But even less strange people in a strange city seem strange. These people have their own associations and you can never share them how much ever you try. You keep thinking that you are intruding their own personal space and don’t want a relatively less strange person from a familiar city around.
I am in bangalore till the 21st. bangalore with its ‘awesome’ weather, cool cafes or eating joints, old bookshops or new bookshops that sell old books, leafy lanes and beautiful people. I am cold here and can’t help sounding like a sick child. (the analogy is a friend’s. next time don’t tell me i didn’t give credit). I have been to brigade road and saw the malls of bangalore (not all). They seem the same to me. The yuppie crowd enjoying the Christmassy feel. But there are no fishing villages here. Its not a coastal city. Its one of the few times I am staying in a city without a coast, albeit briefly. While i miss the cool breeze and I know that mumbai (or even Chennai) ends where the sea begins, Bangalore is a beautiful city to live in. Unfortunately, its not home.
Home can never be transient. Visiting places is exhilarating but home is Mumbai. Growing up in a place makes it special regardless of the slums, the pollution, the bad drainage system. *though its not an excuse for any of these things* and i know i will crib about these things when I am there. Perhaps, it is a reflection of the sorry state of affairs
that I miss the slums and the pollution. (the slum visit won’t be so hard there).
Day 2 in bangalore will be random just like day 1. I can’t judge bangalore though because i haven’t lived here and i haven’t experienced the rain here though I am told there is barely any. What’s a city without rain?
