It was not funny. I landed on Bangalore not being airborne but from a second class sleeper coach of a roaring Indian railway express. Krishnaraj Puram it read. Overcast it was, looked rather gloomy. Clinging to my VIP Alfa small suitcase and an MRF emblemed brown air bag I took a deep breath of the moist air. Anxiety was overwhelming as I could remember it now. Crowd rushing down the platform, people hurling greetings at each other, laughter, the hawker's yell all dissolved slowly into the air. My anxiety grew, suddenly I caught myself stranded amongst unknown faces, unknown land and unknown language. Restless eyes searched for the guy, promised me to see me on the platform. I was clueless where to go. My asset included an SBI atm card with 5000/- rupees in it and books, many of them. My restless eyes struck to a distant face and it brought me smile, a real satisfying smile of relief, joy. It was the guy who was to see me. Riding onto my first BMTC experience in a crowed bus he asked, "so how do you feel at the first sigtht?". It was like a convoy of bmtc buses for me, one after another staked on. I snapped "sad". Indeed it was. I hated the overcast weather, noise, crowd, big buses, heavy traffic. It was for my first experience in any metro city. We started walking towards the house from the bus stop, its near by just 2 km he would say. Crossed level crossing, fields, muddy roads and body almost gave in to the weight of the bags. Finally the 3rd floor 1bhk apartment was at sight. I smiled again. With relief.
It was soon dusk and I was led to the 'bakery'. Bun samosa he ordered. I felt its luxurious here. Bun samosa was a luxury for me. Took a look around, it whole sight was filled with young people most of them like me had come to take a bet on the future. A job in IT. It did not took me long neither to get used to the two kilometer walk down the mud till the bus stop nor hating the bun samosa I considered luxury. Time flew and luck was considerably benevolent on me. I had won the bet. Got a job before runing out of the 5000/- rupees, the only sum I had and would have.
Four years have passed since then. And I have fallen in love with city again and again every time I tried to break off. The charm holds you in her arms and you feel engulfed in her lust. Now I seldom take that train, I get airborne. Now I seldom take the bus, I hire cabs. Now I seldom eat bun samosa, I devour sizzler, now I seldom hate the overcast weather, I love it.
This city has given me luck, charm, love, tears, smiles, friends and above all an identity. A respect in the society and a voice of my own. She has strewed joy on me. Now when I leave her behind the four years play before my eyes. Play in slow motion for me to realize that each sight was indeed a scene and I gulp it down my soul. I smile at her and she smiles back at me. She does not complain, does not demand. She just awaits for a new lover. Love you Bangalore.
P.S. As I am leaving Bangalore for Hyderabad, I must acknowledge the love bestowed on me. Thanks to every one.
Truly
Abinash
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