A letter to my city (Part 1)

                         A letter to my city (Part 1)

Hello beautiful souls! Hope you are happy and healthy. Today I’m gonna unfold the reason for my treasured fondness towards my city. Briefly speaking, my native is Dakshina Kannada and like many nuclear families my parents have settled in Bengaluru for more than 30 years. Until now not even once have I lived in a single place. I stayed at boarding school for schooling. Only for my Degree I came back to Bengaluru. Again for Masters I once again left my city. 

Over all these years I have met many people and comparatively I have spent more time in other places than Bengaluru. Whenever I was asked to introduce myself, I would say I'm from Bengaluru. Some have questioned my love towards this city, while others have come a step forward and corrected me by saying DK is what you have to say when you introduce yourself. Today I’m gonna answer all the questions that I have been hearing throughout the years and clear the misconceptions.

People who know me think I like Bengaluru because I’m familiar with the place, I feel comfortable here, I have studied here or I have a bunch of close knit friends. But these are more like icing on the cake. Have you ever thought what it was like when I came to Bengaluru during vacation? When I hardly knew my neighbors? Or when I was not allowed to go out alone because I was very young?                                                  

                      Just another day in Paradise

Credits: Bharath UB (https://instagram.com/ubphotograph?utm_medium=copy_link)

My love towards this city goes way back when I was 3 years old. When I could hardly walk, talk or eat. I was never a troublesome kid, even back then I used to sleep a lot. Amma used to drag me to Montessori during that time, and I was looking like a cotton ball who's wearing school uniform. I had to walk across a temple and a park to reach the school (More like enjoying the free ride on Amma’s arms). Like most of you, even I cried my eyes out when I had to go to school. Near the temple there was always a group of elderly people who were relaxing after their morning exercise. One fine day an old man from that group with a brown stick in his hand, grey hat on his head and a brick red muffler around his neck asked my Amma why I was crying and gave me a dairy milk chocolate. I think that was the first time I had tasted dairy milk. Later it became a routine, that whole year I received chocolates from that person. Why did that person give the chocolates to a random kid for a whole year? 

Once I reached school, everyone used to come and console me as I turned into a red tomato because of all the crying. After amma left me, I played around with other kids. When I felt tired, my Montessori teachers used to take me in their arms and put me to sleep. Unlike LKG and UKG, Montessori was for 3 years, most of the first two years I slept in the arms of my teachers. I don’t remember their names now, but I really want to thank all my teachers, especially Raaji miss for taking such good care of me back then. But they could have just made me sleep in the corner of our classroom. Why did they carry me around and put so much effort to make me sleep?

After some years I started studying in boarding school. When I used to come for vacations, it was full of joy. It’s really hard to put it in words. That feeling continued for many years as I was away from Bengaluru. Even today, once I reach Nelamangala, I feel the difference in the air, I get goosebumps when I take a deep breath. My heart flutters when I see the fresh flowers in the KR market. I have travelled hundreds of times back and forth in these many years but even today when I reach Bengaluru I feel that love is in the air.

                                Dreamer's path

Credits: Bharath UB (https://instagram.com/ubphotograph?utm_medium=copy_link)

Well, in my experience Bengaluru city and people both are really welcoming. They take one extra step to make others feel comfortable. Though there are many memes, stories or movies that show Bengaluru people in a negative way, there are always exceptions. But until today, not only the people I know but even the ones I’m unfamiliar with have helped me when I’m in need and made me feel comfortable in Bengaluru. I believe only because of such a welcoming attitude Bengaluru is now a home for millions. The least we can do is show our gratitude towards the city by learning the official state language and respecting the fellow people around us, regardless of any social status. Bengaluru has given us food, cloth and shelter, it is not wise to talk bad about our city when we are away.

This city has given me friends who are like family, life that excites me everyday and memories that I cherish until my last breath. Hence, for me there is no other home as Bengaluru. I was a Bengalorean, I am a Bengalorean and I will be a Bengalorean. I would like to share about my college life, theatre journey and how I understood the value of my city in the next post. 

By the way, if you are wondering what happened to that old man after a year, their family shifted their house to another area and that’s how I stopped getting chocolates. Finally, I want to say Bengaluru is not just a place, it’s an EMOTION! Until next time, stay soulful

PS: ನನ್ನ ಬೆಂಗಳೂರು ನನ್ನ ಹೆಮ್ಮೆ ❤️