Life revolves in this city of joy. Making rounds of the same corners, same humor, same routines and same feelings. Bangalore has always been predictable, utterly disgusting at times and nagging, yet it manages to seduce you with its charm, may be that why Bangalore is like your wife. The trees and the warm sunny mornings makes you its slave. Enchanting sights of the cosmopolitan modernized women appeal you as much as the empty roads on a early Sunday morning. With day's break the rush of back pack clad people hurl onto the roads to rig it off its innocent emptiness. The red signals stop them to feed the numerous stranded beggars rounding up in torn cloths. The rush ends behind the glass walls of the air conditioned buildings of tech parks. These buildings and the computer staring masses in it make Bengaluru, Bangalore. The charm of the city is like the neighbor's charming wife, you always look at it with lust and relentlessly try to engulf it. The bizarre nomenclature of localities to the monotonously same menu at each 'Tiffin' join spells the fusion of Bengaluru and Bangalore.
Beauty has always been its attraction, may it be its green parks or faired skinned, beautiful legged women rushing down Brigade road. Malls make landmarks of the city. They are all over it, claiming their own share of belongingness. Its a city where money flows, even in the small pani puri thela stalled at the road side. The crowd that rave the roads are pretentiously intellectual. Two wheelers with a round assed girl on the back clinging to the rider is as common a sight as jammed traffic. Variety of man make this place what it is, every form of art has a respectable place here, including crime. Bangalore is like a modern girl friend, you love being with, feel warm and cozy, but scared of getting married to. The city is just like the young dweller of it, restless.
Welcome to the city of love, spirit, engineers and malls. Welcome to Bangalore, my girl friend Bangalore.