Tuesday, June 10


It had started raining. Bombay looked washed from my balcony. The air was misty, and the excuse of a tree outside my balcony looked green and lush.

I was reminded of Bangalore. I cant live in Bangalore for probably the same reasons as any where else in the country except Bombay. And though Raj Thackarey thinks he can change that, he can't, because it is difficult to kill the core of a city.

The core of Bombay is absorption. Osmosis. That’s what Bombay stands for. Try something else Raj.

I remember Bangalore in many strange ways. It has nothing to do with the city, it was about me.

Bangalore will always be the city of beginnings for me.

Too many beginnings.

Of Job life. Of living alone. Of too many questions and too few answers.

I was tugging at my umbilical cord in a strangely traditional town. A town fueled by IT growth, a town in a curious cusp. Bangalore was tugging at its own umbilical cord.

I started my life in a pigeon hole paying guest accommodation in Bangalore. Like the rest of my generation. At 7 am the sharp ring of the bell woke us up for idlis & garlic chutney doled on plastic plates.PGs in Bangalore were amazing in their space management antics or just plain antics. Two horror stories have made it to this blog.

Back from work one day, we discovered the rooms had been rented out in the afternoon to a college to conduct GDs for an entrance exams. My space was invaded, the loos were stinking of too many strangers.

After shouting my gut out at the PG lady stung by her unfairness , I just sobbed sitting on my bed. Adulthood had begun.

Nothing like what was to follow in the days to come

We all hate the claustrophobia that sets in with sharing toilet seats but consider this.In Bangalore city in the year 2001, a woman who paid for her paying guest accommodation was denied entrance because she failed to make the 9 p.m. cut.

I stormed out next morning. I rented my own place. That was the first time I fought against something I didn’t believe in. These days I do it out of sheer habit.

Life was competitive, individuality stifled and the vast IT deluge was producing too many clones. I wanted it out.

I was changing. Bangalore was the place where I first hung up on my mom on something I found unreasonable. In that sleepy little town I flirted with religion and jettisoned it for a practical existence. I tried finding myself. At times I fell. At times I made it.

Most importantly I understood loss. Real loss.

I lost something inexplicable in my hurry to grow up. I bartered it for a non existent adulthood. It was a hopeless exchange.

And one day walking on Marine Drives in the rains on an extended holiday, I decided that Bangalore & I were at loggerheads on too many things. I could not take the chutney mornings and the rasam evenings.

And I left.


Which Main? What Cross? said...

It's a Bangalore post but you have captured the essence fo Mumbai perfectly!

Anonymous said...

That was an excellent post; I was quite absorbed and reminded of my periods of growing up! You need to consider writing a book. Good to see you on my blog after a while. :)

Anonymous said...

You have this earthy touch - I agree with Shantanu .. a book is certainly due. What happened to your plans for making a movie. Also have not seen any reviews lately.. how about reviewing Amir