two tales of the city....containing the greys

As I got off the train at the Yeshwantpur station, there was nothing that kicked up a thought or a picture of what Bangalore would be like. Thats partly because all Indian railway stations feel unbelievably the same, especially by night--they just smell through and through of travel. The tea tastes familiar, the shacks stock the same stuff : magazines, bottled water and biscuits.
Then i was hauled into a taxi by a relative and the cruise through city roads, in hindsight was like entering into the idea of what Bnagalore meant to me then. So selectively i picked up the things that made up this overhyped not-quite-there metro. My very first initiation was two puffs of inhaler...my allergies were triggered, I dint take it as a sign then.

Well not the best of things to start knowing a place. House hunting. Thats the kind of sport you have to play here again and again and you are always the hunted. Why? because no matter how they sell their cribs to you on Ad Mag, they always end up being the overpacked, overpriced PGs that you cannot last in for long. Thats why you'd see why Ad MAg does so well around here.
Well in my case, after imagining myself in all kinds of localities and bunk bed rooms, i finally came across an old bangalore home with the traditional red flooring and some very comforting vibes. Well din't last there long either coz the people factor suddenly came in. No it wasnt the north-south divide...i hadn't entered that territory yet. An old friend from the North of India' moved in and well, that almost sealed my fate at this lonely place. Almost!
Besides a very vapid college routine, spiced up by one no two professors sans any peace of mind, there were always the bus numbers that would always take you to some place u didn't want to go to. But the big relief was that everyone seemed to be on some kind of hapiness pill, i mean not one hassled passenger..of course the virtual `Lakshman Rekha' that no man dared breach did cut the bus in two, that did explain why the men were happy. A few months and I realised that people here are simple and god fearing and they just hate a confrontation, because they hate being rude. Simpy! Thats another expression I picked up here, apart from the `Is it' and the ever handy `had lunch/dinner'. But the conductors and driver, they are a decadent breed around here..which brings me to the traffic part. Well I never really had issues with the traffic scene till i read and read and read about it in papers and then one day I did realise that it actually took me 45 minutes to travel 6 odd kms in a bus. I had a lot of time in hand and no hurry.
As things went by, I found myself writing for a paper here, that brought me in touch with the city lifestyle...whos who, food, literary scene, culture, events and the rock shows...I mean it is quite a thing to experience, only for so long. Then you just churn out sorry copies to justify your existence in the organisation and take home the peanuts. One thing this city gave me--to much attention and too little comfort.