Tuesday, March 10, 2009

I lowwwe* Bangalore!

* to be pronounced the way some South Indians say "love"

I have been using this statement quite often recently (pronunciation et al). Adding to the fact that I am now happily at home, Bangalore's weather is a treat. No, really! So, it is March and the middle of a supposedly punishing summer, right? Today, I went out with my sister on my much-weathered Scooty and we were enjoying the sight of swaying Gulmohar trees on a cloudy afternoon. After a beautiful sunset, it also rained here, complete with the nice earthy smell before the pitter-patter of raindrops and lightning! What else can I say - I lowwwe Bangalore!

Yet another phrase I seem to have caught on to is "I likes!" - with that 's'. I use it to express my hearty approval for a varied assortment of things - books, news, chakli (a sort of goodie that comes within the snack category), you-name-it.

Today, while my sister and I were patiently abiding our time at a crossroad's traffic signal (it took us 3 'red's to get to the particular 'green' to make our escape from that part of the world), we saw the bus that connects our home to the heart of the city on the other lane. With squeals of excitement we pondered over the feasibility of leaving our Scooty parked there and crossing the road to run behind the bus, as we used to during our school years. Just the fact that we saw that bus justified such an action - at one time, that reaction was hard-wired in us. Of course we didn't do any such thing. Instead, we started recounting our adventures with this particular route's bus in such animation and good spirit, that all our grumpy neighbours at the traffic signal were wearing smiles when that light finally turned 'green'.

Like the time when we school children (note the classification of passengers made here - big school bags automatically reduced our standing in the order of priority) would try to cheat our way into an empty bus at the terminus when it had just offloaded one set of passengers - only to get that coveted spot behind the driver. We didn't even want a seat then, we weren't so greedy. And then, there were those sadistic drivers who would scold us out of the bus and then drive over a kilometre away to the rightful platform, thinking that running all that way with our heavy schoolbags only to find a fully loaded bus would be punishment enough for us!

The "platform" initiated other memories - of the buses docking in on either sides of the platform. This was when the people who are quick on their feet would win the battle. Since the terminus is huge and there were loads of buses standing there, vertically challenged passengers could not really spot their ride coming in to gain the advantage of time. My sister laughed about the way she would keep an eye on the "regular" passengers as well, so as to read their body language in case they sighted the bus arriving on the other side of the platform.

We also spoke about how some drivers would remove the board of the bus (informing the number and route) before arriving at the platform - just to make life a little more challenging for the hapless passengers. They thought that this strategy would save them and their bus from the mad rush of a swirling human tide from trying to get into their precious buses. Alas! It never worked in their favour. In fact, the effect was the opposite as people intending to board other buses, which were running late, would compete to board this bus in the vain hope that this was it! They were only human - optimism and hope was all they had at that time. I reminded my sister of the numerous times I would run to check the board of such a bus when the driver would turn the engine on - you can only imagine how alert we had to be for any last-minute changes in destination and intent of the drivers.

All this fond nostalgia led us to be thankful for our respective two-wheelers, which, when they were given to us by our parents, provided us with a freedom and independence we savoured and cherished for many years. Standing at that traffic signal, we reiterated our gratitude to the turn of events in our lives which increasingly reduced our dependence on Bangalore's public transport. As I accelerated beyond the crossroad, we both wondered if things have changed since then. We hope so (we are human too) and would love to find out. ;)