Tuesday, July 19, 2011

hogi bartini, Bengaluru!

Today's sunrise was regular. Just the way it always looks like on a regular dewy, misty Bangalore morning. What's different is the realisation that I would have left this place I have been calling home for the past 7 years, before the sun rises tomorrow. I'm having my morning coffee right now and I hear a bird chirping away outside. Like it's trying to tell me something. I don't quite understand bird-talk, but I wish I knew, because I badly want to have a little goodbye chat right now.

Today when I went out to the Nandini outlet near the park for milk, I wanted to tell the guy who always handed me my packet of milk in the morning, that I'm leaving. I wanted to tell the Uncle at the little Koshy's outlet nearby who used to get me the best chicken sandwich ever, that I'll be gone. I wanted to go hug the kachdewali who always stomps up the stairs to haggle for her 30 bucks. I wanted to tell her, that my day used to go just great when I see her with her broom outside the gate in the morning. It's supposed to be a bad omen, I know. But seeing her on my way out worked more like a lucky charm for me. I wanted to go ask the newspaper boy at that little stall near the lane, how he remembered which newspaper I read. even when I went to him after weeks or months of newspaper-abstinence. How he knew that I would want the Saturday Crest? I wanted to go run and say bye to the boys at the shop that sends us our weekly water cans. I always fight with them for having to remind them twice whenever I need the can. "Sorry chechi" they'd say always "ippo ethikkaam. anchu minittu". always. and take the whole damned day, to finally get it home. I want to go tell that sweet little kid at the Sreeraj Lassi bar nearby that I'm leaving for good. I'd always drive him mad with my ever changing preferences for the amount of sugar and ice that goes into my watermelon juice. But he'd still be nice and oblige, always. I want to go tell that guy at the Krishna sagar darshini counter that I will go there the next time I come to Bangalore.

There's this thing about life in a busy metropolitan city. It's like this unwritten rule that you don't really talk to people. You connect to people. That's because it is human. But you don't really talk. I can't imagine walking upto any of the afore mentioned poeple and saying a goodbye. They'd probably be taken aback! Because that isn't expected around here, right? You leave the place quietly, at the break of dawn, load all your stuff into a cab and just leave. Your place in this part of the universe will be filled up by another being. They'll bring a part of themselves to this place where you leave a part of yourself behind. It just goes on.

For some reason, I also like the fact that I'm spared the goodbye ritual. Everytime you say a goodbye to someone, the sense of finality sinks in. That you'll be gone. For real. I just prefer to believe that I'll be back soon. Bangalore has been much more than a city to me. It's been this living, breathing person. I'll remember the sight of the beautiful break of dawn at Lalbagh, and the taste of karabath at MTR later. The lazy sunday afternoons at Cubbon park. (I was lucky to live in a place half way between these two beautiful places, though I feel I did fail to make the most of it. But with Bangalore, I know there will always be a next time. There has to be. I knew it when I left this place the last time. and I was back the year after. ) I remember walking into the Hockey stadium on lazy evenings and watching such high voltage matches in the rain with an umbrella to boot, booing and cheering and walking out super charged. The stroll down M.G. road and Brigade road could cure me of any blues. There's something about the energy in that place. It has to do with the people who walk up and down the street, determined, busy, always on the move. The energy is very positive and highly contagious. and then I would walk into the old world colonial charm of Koshy's and have a humungous cup of super strong coffee and everything will be fine with my world. Bangalore has always helped make life more beautiful to me. It's celebrated with me during my little triumphs and been my rock during my times of trial.

So when I pack my bags and leave before I say hi to tomorrow's Bangalore sun, my parting words will be "See you soon! hogi bartini, Bengaluru!"

In other news: watched Harry Potter last Sunday and totally loved it. super cool. I put on those clumsy little 3D goggles, and clapped and cheered for the people in that magical world. It felt like we've known them since ages. And now they are gone. But what a way to go!
And for me, it was the best way to end my second innings in Bangalore.
It's back to the real world and packing up my stuff for now. Too bad we don't get to have magic wands in the real world!


  1. How can you leave Bangalore? This is like the best place EVER!

    Come back soon. No wait, vegam thirichi vaa Usha chechi :D

  2. I'm sure u'll be back soon :) So for now just an all the best for the next step :)

  3. hmmm ... its always painful to leave something so close to heart isnt it. i realized it recently, when i left my office of last 6 yrs!

    all the best for whatever is ur new endeavour!

  4. @sowmya: how sweet is that! :)
    trust me, I will, I will..

    @dhanya: oh thankyou, Dan!

    @sajeena, shweta: guess what, I'm back to school!! :) :) :)

    @sandeep: :) yes, it is painful. but then there's the excitement of having something new to look forward to, as well.
    wish you too the very best, sandeep!

  5. Absolutely loved this post, absolutely! You have written so beautifully girl.

    I am sure you will fall in love with the next place you are off to wanderer girl. If it is Kochi, let me know. You will have in your list, "coffees with Cris on lazy evenings". :-)

  6. @Cris: Thankyou, girl! I wasn't actually writing it, I was pouring my heart out. :P it was a senti-senti time for me.

    and no, what a waste, I wasnt going to Kochi, but to the land of Kolaveri. If you ever visit the place, and feel like riding a bicyle through a forest reserve area, lemme know! I live there.