13 years to this day, since I set foot on the then dusty , rugged streets of Bengaluru to pursue my higher studies.
A shy , timid , introvert who was catapulted from her cocoon. While still wobbly and finding her ground, I was taken under the wings of this amazing city.
Can a place have the power to change you? In some other time I would have disagreed . But these streets taught me to stand firm , fight not just for myself but those around me too, to make mistakes, correct them , fumble but learn again. And subconsciously the amalgamation of every tiny experience here made a better person out of me.
My city, famous for its nonchalant crowd, fun loving culture, is a melting pot of communities. Each unique in their own way and I have had the utmost pleasure imbibing their traditions.
A myriad of memories collected over a decade here. Pub hopping on the ever happy MG road, shopping sprees at commercial street, “my love at first chai” moment at disney bakery BTM, gorging on Donne biryani ,the chaat hogging on eat street, shameless requests for one extra pani puri at puchka bhandars on HSR, weekend breakfasts at MTR, the early morning hikes to Nandi hill, the holiday getaways to Coorg, celebrating karnataka rajotsava with my kanadiga friends with as much fervour as them, getting stuck on silk board traffic enjoying all the chaos and laughing at all the live swearing sessions in the background, entertained by the artistic vibes at Atta Galatta ,trancing into the peaceful foliage of cubbon park, all the auto hunts and bargains with ‘auto annas’ before the ola era set in.
Precious moments , forever etched in my mind and even more special are the people I lived them with.
Every road I visited this time, spoke to me in the language of reminiscence . Whispering in monotones, asking me if I remembered them.
There were subtle changes though, the lanes were not the same as the ones I walked on previously, most of my usual favourite familiar places were replaced; and yet the pulse of the city was just the way it was the last time I felt it.
So , no matter where I am in the world , I would never forget the rhythm of that beating pulse because even though I am a Malayalee by origin I’ll always be a “Bengaluru hudgi” by heart
And each time I hit the lows in life I shall chant the mantra this place taught me “mast maja madi maga!”
Thank you for the memories Bengaluru.
Until we meet again.
Toothfairy6 