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Thursday, October 23, 2008


I miss my sofa. My dirty, yellow and blue throne. I miss laying left to right on it, watching TV in just that right manner; head tilted at that perfect angle, arms resting on that perfect spot on the cushion, my tea perched on the stool just the perfect distance from my hand. That was my space. A bubble of things arranged "just so". It was to me what the basket by the fireplace is to the figurative cat.

I miss auto rickshaws. The crazy messages/stickers flashing across their back panels. "MouthShut. com"
"Save rainwater, save India"

I loved meeting an honest auto driver, one who would actually charge you the fair shown on the meter and not complain that it's too far/short/rainy/windy/close to his aunt's birthday. The putrid city air in your face and the sound of the muffler-less gas engine crying away, I miss them too.

Sunsets over Varthur lake: possibly the greatest paradox I've ever come across. The sight was truly worth the terrible road, but the smell of that disturbingly green water was not. I passed that lake almost everyday for 4 years and now I no longer see it. Good day or bad, that lake was always there to tell me that I was 2 stops from home.

Empire. Enough said. The best value food I have ever had. There were restaurants and then there was Empire. It had many copies and many rivals, but really, nothing comes close. I loved the cross-section of society one could see there. you could get a pretty accurate slice of Bangalore at Empire. You had the IT workers, complete with immaculate side-parting, glasses and the name-tag dangling from their necks. You had us, the children of the well-to-do, dressed in jeans, sunglasses and branded shoes. You had the group of archetypal south Indian ammas: saaree, too much fake (?) jewelry, wailing baby and all. And then, last but not least, you had the average man - not your poor one, mind you. You had the guy who uses a single Bajaj Chetak as his family transport every morning. The guy who needs his idly dosa from Shanthi Sagar every morning in order to function. Everyone knows what they want, everyone is hungry - even if they may have entered full! Whether it be chicken kabab, mutton raan, dosa chicken, bheja fry or just your friendly neighbourhood biryani, everything is gobbled up. The speed of seating, ordering, consuming, paying and leaving is quite astounding. The various ranks of waiters are plain for all to see. The feeling of walking down to Chruch street, feeling full and satisfying is one I sorely miss.

Palm Meadows. A little piece of California that got lost and decided to give up and settle in South India. I loved the feeling of driving around, picking everyone up from their houses and going to play street football. These were without doubt, my closest friends: the (in)famous football gang. And once the game was done and twilight was upon us, I loved walking down to the shop, buying terribly unhealthy soft drinks and just talking until my mum came to pick me up. We'd talk about our parents and school and work and dreams of college and football. On weekends I'd sleep over at one of my friends houses and this meant buying more unhealthy food from the shop, going to Prahlad's place and basically enjoying his basement. The pool table, the massive TV, and night time burn-outs on Palm Meadows back roads.

I look forward to enjoying these little pieces of Bangalore this December. I didn't know I'd miss them so much.


Princess Stefania said...

Wonderful! You're back. At last.
:) :) :)
honest auto-driver?
Oxymoron alert. :P
Nice post. :) Don't pass over Free Hab please? And you're back in December? Brilliant! :)
(see, this is why I don't wake up before 9:00am. The chirpiness goes out of control).

kyra said...


Six smileys in one comment. You must be really happy. :O


The bloggers are finally back. Phew.
I wonder what I'll have to say about Blore once I leave, considering I have less than flattering things to say now.

Farcenal said...

Stefania: Yes I hoped you lot haven't missed me too much. An honest auto-driver is like a helpful cop: a pleasant surprise in times when you expect people to be intrinsically bad.

Kyra: When are you leaving and why?

Farcenal said...

Oh and Kyra, you don't know what you've got till its gone.

kyra said...

Must you throw that line at me?
I'll be done with college in about five months, and then it's goodbye blore. For good, hopefully.

Farcenal said...

Yeah I really must!
Where do you plan to go?
I'm happy that I left Bangalore but that doesn't mean I don't miss it.

Why do you hate Blore so much?

kyra said...

It's not something I can answer in one or two lines. Why does one dislike anything? Some people love strawberries, some don't. It's as simple as that. Almost. :)

I'd like to go back to Delhi. Or Cal. Depends on the college, actually.

kyra said...

Why exactly do you have comment moderation?

Isn't the word verification thingy enough to keep out spam?

Farcenal said...

How can anyone not like Strawberries? You must be an alien of some sort. Like Tom Crusie.

I have comment moderation because at one point I got the most ridiculous spammers/flamers on this blog. Don't want that to happen again.

kyra said...

I never said I didn't like strawberries! It was just a random example.
You seem to assume that the things you like are universal favourites. Like Blore.

I wish I was an alien. Without the green skin and five eyes. Life would've been so much more interesting.

Serendipity said...

Your back. veryy cool. :)
I really really connected with this post, read it twice already!

Vijay Bhat said...

Ok! At the risk of your fellow bloggers and readers thinking you to be uncool, here's MOM. Tra-laaaa

I'm SO happy that it has finally sunk in. "you don't know what you've got till its gone." My son is NOT an alien! He's HUMAN. With FEELINGS. Yay!

Honestly, the way you just left without really showing any emotion made me wonder.

Now, you shall be welcomed home in Dec with all your fav foods on the table. Start making your wishlist! Nani's biryani, My paella, chicken-rice, thai-green curry, baked mushrooms...

Princess Stefania said...

:P Bangalore's like that girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead.
Which is to say, when she's good, she's really really good, but when she's bad, she's horrid.

Ridiculous flamers? Sigh. I wish Pixie Dust would pick up a few flamers. It's nice to know that as a writer, you can strike a chord of understanding in people's hearts, but I would love to whip up some stormy outbursts.