They called it “The Silicon Valley “, “The IT Capital”, “The Garden City” of India and that was just about to be my new home. It was the early August of 2006, the moment I rushed to board my train from NJP station, and I had already taken a step towards being a proud Bangalorean, if not by birth but surely by virtue. I had enrolled for a Bachelor's Degree Program here in Hospitality and Tourism Management in Bangalore. If not for others but for me it was no less of an achievement, I felt that way somewhere within me and I was convinced with myself. Throughout the journey I had just dreams of how life is about to take off at a speed I had ever imagined , while the rest of my fortune was to be decided only after I reach there. Early morning when the sun had just started ripening, I headed towards the exit of the railway station. I felt as if I was just about to enter a stage eagerly awaited by thousands of audience. It was no different; I was almost dragged by the crowd of autowala’s. The biggest of all problem was the language, yet that became secondary when one of them spoke in a twisted Hindi” Kidar ko jana”. I quickly glanced in a 360 view, just to find my uncle standing at one of the corner. I was relieved, but I knew not for long, as I had to deal with them a lot many times in days to come. It was quite a welcome to me in the city.
( Mysore palace - A short one day trip is a must)
College begun, I had settled myself to an extent. Now I had friends from different parts of India, so the blend of languages, cultures, rituals, tradition was teaching me much more than my academics itself. Experience teaches you more than an exercise. Sometimes I think being very imbecile where in the world would I apply all those, pythagoras, logarithms, algebra, calculus that I learnt in my daily life. I must be doltish in making the statement but that is exactly what I felt. With those trivial lessons on life with friends, I was exploring Bangalore in a larger extent.
College days- A short trip to a resort for a game of cricket!
The very first time I went to Brigade Road, I questioned myself, am I really in India? And the very next moment when a fellow passerby carelessly spitted pan in the street wall I was assured that I was just in India, not elsewhere. Over a year’s time I had explored Bangalore and its outskirts to the depth, from busy Commercial Street flocked with inquisitive shoppers, the classy showrooms of the malls, the queued mediocre cinema halls to the air conditioned Movie Theater, be it a meal served in banana leaf in an Andhra mess or a delicately spread gourmet buffet of a classy hotel, be it the brawly cheap bars or the happening pubs in the fresh of the city, all of which had its own rustic flavor of experiencing life.
Trek to Savandurga- A glimpse from a night trek to Savandurga Hills.
Weekends were calmer with a long ride to Nandi Hills, a ride worth every penny, passing by the vineyards and grape farms. Many times just to beat the boredom, we would take a ride to the International Airport which was newly built and was quite an asset, almost 40km away from the city. Merely the ride would be just for a cup of tea or coffee, I never needed a bigger reason to explore the city. I was almost a Bangalore boy by now, I spoke Kannada, I drank tender coconut water, I called my friends “Maccha” and I added “da” and “ra” in almost all my sentences, all in all I had adapted to the place like it belonged to me. And every time a newcomer to the city spoke to me, I boasted “I know Bangalore at the back of my palms” and they would give a vague smile. I had never realized, a city of this caliber makes you aware of your responsibility and keeps you on your toes every time. If not me there are thousands like me eagerly waiting for the chance to take the next big leap. My course was just about to conclude, and the bigger challenges of my life was yet to start, I was yet to face the real world, the big fish, I was already hunting for an employment and by no time I got one.
The delicious meal from Rajdhani.
It was mid 2009. Food wasn’t giving me nightmares as it does for most of the northerners, when you are tight pocketed it should not also. I ate anything as far as it was vegetarian. Idly and Dosa has to be the most consumed food in the entire state if someone ever did a survey. It is literally hard to avoid curry leaves; you will find them in almost everything- actually everything, even in Gobi Manchurian. Its here I learnt that Gobi Manchurian was never a Chinese dish, which I had thought it was for all these years. When people from all over India started migrating here, food too was migrated. But the local versions of the migrated food are something to watch out for; it might give you a punch. The “Samosa” here is a perfect triangle with nothing but onion filling. If you need an authentic “Samosa”, you need to mention “Alu Samosa”. Local “PaniPuri” is served dipped in hot masala gravy, yet you will still encounter an innocent smile in the vendor’s face, when you gulp that bite down your throat with extreme uneasiness. I am not complaining but that is how it is here. With more migration – the authenticity of food are maintained by the bhais from the north. So there are ample choices for the northerners to gulp down their traditional food any where in Bangalore now. All said, Bangalore has a vast food list in their menu, personally I have loved the Lemon Rice, Bisi- Bhelle- Bhat, the tangy Rasam and many other delicacies, the ideal place to explore the street food with a twist is V.V Puram. MTR is the most famous restaurant chain that serves authentic local cuisines. Probably there are more coffee days and dominos than the State bank ATM’s. There are equal no of bars too. Then comes the bakers- Bangalore is flocked with bakeries serving quick bites and refreshments ,almost all run by “Chetas” ( Brother in Malayalam), they bake anything from the crispy puff to cookies to fancy looking cream cakes, and all these comes in a fair price.
The tiny Momo stalls are well populated; I sometimes walk up to them and converse in our local dialect to avail some discount, as most of the stalls are run by my fellow brothers from northeast, many a times they give me 2 Momos extra and sometimes just a vague smile. But whatsoever, this city gives opportunity to the doers not to those who just dream of doing.