The Bangalorean I’d love to be

The Bangalorean I’d love to be
Filter-coffee conservative in the morning, such chutzpah in the evening. Here’s a list holding up a mirror to the city’s schizophrenic existence
RENUKA PHADNIS


Bangalore is a celebrated city, feted for its technology industry as much as for its perennial pleasant weather, its greenery and the tolerance of its people. People who have been here a while will recall a quiet, dust-free, green city with narrow streets, tree-laden avenues and a main road where people could stroll through. Now, the city has grown up, morphed into a megapolis with concrete jungles, traffic-choked roads, disappearing tree cover and a high street which is a nightmare to drive on.
But remaining true to themselves are the people of this city who have now drawn up a list of characteristics that could make anyone ask, “Are you from Bangalore?” See how many you recognise from these:
Is he the Westerner who visits Bangalore for four days and spends three days with the children of the corporation school behind Dispensary Road to know more about their lives?
Are they the auto drivers, much maligned for their reckless driving, their rudeness, refusing passengers and taking sudden uturns, who have ‘Free for Delivery Cases’ emblazoned on the back of the vehicle?
Could the Bangalorean be the friendly-neighbourhood ‘Aunty’ who will not only give you the recipe for
the perfect ‘bisibele bhaath’ but also bring some to you because it was appreciated?
There are times when you may be hunting for an address with mains, crosses, phases and stages and still not find the place. And somebody — the man on the street — who helps you exactly where it is.
There are those who will not even wait to be acknowledged. We have seen situations where a driver jumped out of a government car to help a woman driver get her stuck car out of a pothole in the midst of heavy traffic and leaves before she can thank him. May be he is the real Bangalorean?
Surely, it is the Bangalorean who will ‘swalpa adjust’ — in the bus for a seat, or for space on the jam-packed roads? Is it the car driver who folds in his rightwindow mirror so that the biker can move further in the trafficfilled road?
As we travel to work and back, there is the lady with a seat in the bus but holds your bulky bag till the last stop because you found none. Is she the real Bangalorean?
Or is the Bangalorean the one who who grooves to hits from Hindi, Tamil, Kannada, Punjabi and Telugu numbers with equal ease?
Is it the girl who attends Ganapathi ‘abhisheka’ in the morning and then shakes a leg at the Iron Maiden show in the evening?
Perhaps the Bangalorean is the person who will tell you where to get the best ‘idli-coffee’ combo and the best ‘Pasta Verde’ in Beantown?
Possibly, it is the techie girl, who draws elaborate ‘rangolis’ outside her home on a festival day and then rushes to office to take a call from China to discuss about electronic component manufacture?
Or is it the grandfather who stopped studying by class 8 but learnt email at 70 to be able to stay in touch with his daughter in the US?
Maybe the Bangaloreans are the bunch of grannies who sold pizzas to the corporate crowd to save money to build an old age home.
Is this young couple any less Bangalorean — the young tech professional’s newly married wife makes ‘dahi bhallas’ and ‘pua’ on Holi in a bid to recreate the ambience of ‘home’ and calls all her neighbours to join in?
They are all Bangaloreans. All of them living in this great melting pot with more than six million people, a city hurtling to its promise of becoming one of the world’s most cherished metros.