I have always bitched about Bangalore traffic. And until a week back, I was just a passive member of this immense teeming mass,and I'm learning the hard way what it really means to actively be a part of it..
Minutes make a difference. You leave Whitefield at 4:55 PM you'll reach Indiranagar in about 45 minutes. You leave at 5 PM, you'll reach in an hour and a half. I made it a point to leave before 5, and made it to Indiranagar marginally comfortably(by Bangalore standards) in 45 minutes. The journey back, was epic in proportion. Thanks to the city's innumerable and terribly confusing one ways, and now the Metro construction, journey from point A to point B is very very different from point B to point A. I needed to get to the (old) Airport Road from where I was in Indiranagar, and even though I somehow got to where I was from Airport Road, I had no idea how to get back. And thus, I started asking for directions. I forgot to mention the setup - Dark, rainy, slushy roads, construction going on - the works. Yeah, and so I got directions in four different languages, at various points in my circuitous journey, all pointing me in different directions. Some were concise - "Left, dead end right.". I took the said left, only to realise that there was no sign of a dead end. I actually felt far away from home, a feeling which I hadn't felt even when I was in Mysore and home was Delhi!
The fifth time I asked for directions, i got lucky. The guy had a where-the-hell-have-you-come expression on his face, and after consultation with a friend of his who seemed to be well versed with labyrinthine Bangalore came back to me with solid directions which turned out to be perfect. When I finally touched Airport Road, all felt right with the World. And then there was more rain, more bumpers, more two wheelers constantly crossing you from every direction, more honking and more swearing.
Its amazing how the city with all the IT and the outsourcing and the Silicon Valley of India tag and all, functions when you can't even predict without a reasonable amount of doubt when you will reach where you intend to reach! There must be some sort of order in the seemingly random movement, which I am sure is hanging at the very edge of balance, all ready to spew forth chaos.
To quote my Uncle,
"In Bangalore, you are always at crossroads!"
Monday, November 9, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
woooosh!
Well the clouds seemed to have parted for now, and I felt the need to change my blog title.
Anyhow.
Overcome by a sudden bout of activity, I recently went to give my test for a Learner's License. I went to the Indiranagar RTO in Bangalore, housed in the BDA complex (complete with dingy staircases and smelly loos). This test too, like any other test, had the following mandatory characters :
A . The All Knowing Guy Who Tends To Scare Other People
B . The Girl Who Thinks She'll Pass Because (She Thinks) She Looks Good
C . The Guy Who Reads On Till The Bell Goes
D . The Cool Macha Who Doesn't Really Care
E . The Concerned Dad Who Keeps Getting His Daughter Biscuits And More Material To Read.
F . The Irritated Invigilator.
Frankly, I was nervous. This was the second time(after a gap of two years) that I was attempting to get an LL. No no, I didn't flunk the test last time, the very irritable official in the Mysore RTO sent me back, for lack of documents.
And so I sat there answering questions about weird signs in triangles, and about how to overtake. People started finishing their papers, and the official guy started checking them right there. And what that guy was saying loudly didn't help at all - "You have got 5 marks. You have failed", and "You have got only 2 marks" etc. He said all this with awesome disdain, and a sneaking bit of joy too. Well I finished my test, and went up to the official, who ragged me around a little, asking me to stand here, then there, and when I didn't really get where, he asked me what power spectacles I was wear. Whoa.. that rhymed! I managed a borderline 10 on 15..Joy to the World!
ps : the irony was, because the system is now computerised, it took two days more than it used to take back when it was not computerised, to get my LL.
pps : Oh the girl I mentioned (refer to B.), flunked.
Well the clouds seemed to have parted for now, and I felt the need to change my blog title.
Anyhow.
Overcome by a sudden bout of activity, I recently went to give my test for a Learner's License. I went to the Indiranagar RTO in Bangalore, housed in the BDA complex (complete with dingy staircases and smelly loos). This test too, like any other test, had the following mandatory characters :
A . The All Knowing Guy Who Tends To Scare Other People
B . The Girl Who Thinks She'll Pass Because (She Thinks) She Looks Good
C . The Guy Who Reads On Till The Bell Goes
D . The Cool Macha Who Doesn't Really Care
E . The Concerned Dad Who Keeps Getting His Daughter Biscuits And More Material To Read.
F . The Irritated Invigilator.
Frankly, I was nervous. This was the second time(after a gap of two years) that I was attempting to get an LL. No no, I didn't flunk the test last time, the very irritable official in the Mysore RTO sent me back, for lack of documents.
And so I sat there answering questions about weird signs in triangles, and about how to overtake. People started finishing their papers, and the official guy started checking them right there. And what that guy was saying loudly didn't help at all - "You have got 5 marks. You have failed", and "You have got only 2 marks" etc. He said all this with awesome disdain, and a sneaking bit of joy too. Well I finished my test, and went up to the official, who ragged me around a little, asking me to stand here, then there, and when I didn't really get where, he asked me what power spectacles I was wear. Whoa.. that rhymed! I managed a borderline 10 on 15..Joy to the World!
ps : the irony was, because the system is now computerised, it took two days more than it used to take back when it was not computerised, to get my LL.
pps : Oh the girl I mentioned (refer to B.), flunked.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
A Day
I get up at 6:44 AM after my usual dose of multiple snooze alarms.
I go about doing what has now become a daily morning routine - the mandatory brushing of the teeth, the corn flakes in cold milk, the coffee, the consequent ablutions and a bath. I drive to the tech park where I work, which is barely a kilometer from where I stay.
The main gate, the walk from the main gate to my building, the wait for the lift, the lift ride to the 11th floor, snatches of random conversation en route. Badge my way in to 11th floor. Look at the kinda pretty girl in the first cube.
I sit at my desk, take my laptop out, connect the ethernet cable and then proceed to check my mail. I post on Facebook, I Tweet and try to keep an interest in whats happening in this great big world - BBC helps.
Work, drink coffee, work, have lunch, work, drink badam milk, work, pack up and leave.
I have more time in the evenings than most others working in Bangalore, and I spend most of it thinking of starting to go for jogs, or start gymming, or start playing football again. To corrupt a super corny line to make another super corny line - procrastination is my middle name.
Have dinner, read Wodehouse.
Blog about the day.
I go about doing what has now become a daily morning routine - the mandatory brushing of the teeth, the corn flakes in cold milk, the coffee, the consequent ablutions and a bath. I drive to the tech park where I work, which is barely a kilometer from where I stay.
The main gate, the walk from the main gate to my building, the wait for the lift, the lift ride to the 11th floor, snatches of random conversation en route. Badge my way in to 11th floor. Look at the kinda pretty girl in the first cube.
I sit at my desk, take my laptop out, connect the ethernet cable and then proceed to check my mail. I post on Facebook, I Tweet and try to keep an interest in whats happening in this great big world - BBC helps.
Work, drink coffee, work, have lunch, work, drink badam milk, work, pack up and leave.
I have more time in the evenings than most others working in Bangalore, and I spend most of it thinking of starting to go for jogs, or start gymming, or start playing football again. To corrupt a super corny line to make another super corny line - procrastination is my middle name.
Have dinner, read Wodehouse.
Blog about the day.
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