This is an article I wrote for a contest for a newspaper. It’s about the wonderful city I call home. Bangalore. Or as hardcore Kannadigas call it, Bengaluru. Unfortunately for me, it was not selected. So I thought I’ll share it here.
The city of life. Literally. That is how the affair began. With life. The first breath was from her. The first walk was in her gardens. The first ride was on her roads. She was always the pleasant and welcoming host. She still is. She never turns down a visitor, never disappoints her natives, and never gives up on those who love her. She has raised her children with passion, such that they will do anything for her survival. Her children are thus sensible. They fight for her. They conjure solutions for her improvement. They plan, prioritize and proceed to ensure that she doesn’t disappear under the guise of development. She loves diversity and tolerates it without bias. This is perhaps her greatest trait.
We grew up together. We weathered the same storms and developed at an alarming rate. That’s her magic. She becomes a part of each and every one she touches. Her life is the foundation for my life. Without her I’m the empty vase. She does have her moments though. She unleashes the heat when she can’t take it anymore. Then she feels sorry and lets out a cry. Finally she cools down and things are back to normal again.
Relationships, but, are meant to evolve. They change with time. And so has ours. With the influx of new faces, she has turned to cater to them. She’s jamming with them every day; she’s widening her arms to let in more new faces; she’s building new bridges in her life. At times I am struck by this rapid rise of hers. But she does it to make a place for herself in this world; just like me. This is why we understand each other. She knows that she cannot always attend to my individual needs, but she doesn’t let go completely.
While every relationship is love-hate, with her it’s only love. I have yet to come across an individual who does not love her or an individual to whom she has been discourteous. The Bangalore I fell in love with has changed over the years. The facade has changed drastically but her spirit remains untouched. She has moved on. And I will always love her. For she will always be home.
On a side note: I am thinking of changing the blog theme. Any suggestions?
NOINPART 