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The day Bangalore became HOME!

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So from the terrible mood swings I underwent that day to the random happy dance I did at office at the end of the day, I must say that I had had quite a day that day, at least as far as emotional ups and downs were concerned. Apart from that, it was just another day, a day in the city of Bangalore. Bangalore – a city which I initially remember naming ‘The land of moustaches, Kolaveri Di and La Pongal’. Everybody there seemed to have a moustache! I don’t know if it was the comparatively older crowd the city had as compared to Pune, or simply one of the many, fascinating South Indian cultures where it came from.

So I hopped out of office and suddenly saw myself still doing the happy dance, merrily singing random songs to myself. I felt happy. I realized that in spite of all the hardships the city had given me, somewhere down the line, it had finally managed to make me a part of it.

Right from days when I’d decide to go by myself and have a healthy dinner at Subway, to instead stepping into the bar next door and meeting a friend, knowing that I had people when I needed them; right from all the long walks I had initially taken from Koramangala to Indiranagar, which made me feel so small and lost in the big city, to the walks I took later, which made me feel like those were my roads, my people, my city; right from being young, naive and ignorant to still young, but wise and responsible, right from blowing up my entire salary in the first 20 days of the month and then going broke, to learning to save a certain amount of money every month, right from being a wild and free-spirited 21-year old to a tougher, stronger and grown-up 25-year old, the city had made me what I was.

Right from always being looked at as the fair girl from the north and knowing absolutely nothing about Kannada, Malayalam, Tamil, or any of the local languages, to being able to make basic conversations with rickshaw guys – “Illy 100 feet road (to 100 feet road)”, with the Amma at office – “Amma, ootah itah? (Amma, had lunch?)”, with the tapri shop guy – “Und chai (one chai)” and with others who tried to extend conversations – “Kannada gothila (I don’t know Kannada)”, I felt accomplished to at least be able to put a smile on their faces by attempting to learn their language, by trying to be a part of them, by making the simple initial effort, to be accepted, just as I was.

Right from having lengthy, like really lengthy arguments with my Bangalore friends about how awesome Pune was and how no other city could beat it, and desperately waiting every two months to book that ticket to Pune to go ‘home’, I finally felt like I could safely say that Bangalore was also HOME. It was a different home, it had fewer rules, more people, less close friends, more opportunities, no parents, but it was home. It had made me a part of it as much as I had made it a part of me; a part of me, which I would cherish and remember for the rest of my life, and take along with me wherever I went.

Pic Courtesy: vimeo.com

Karishma Rajan
The founder of The First Fork, Karishma likes to live in the moment and take life as it comes. Originally from aamchi Pune, she is swalp Bangalorean at heart and loves the Mumbaiya energy! Biking adventures, good food and inappropriate humour are things that get her going and she fantasises about going hitchhiking around the galaxy one day.