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!"
