The charm, for me, of cycling around Bangalore is to realize again and again how little I know about my city. It is like being in love with a very complicated and yet fascinating woman. Many, many layers.
One of those Sundays that dragged heavy - didn't get up in time so I skipped my Kannada classes, lounged at home reading Ramachandra Guha's fascinating 'India after Gandhi', had a cup of tea and then called up to find out if the gang was going to LalBagh, a Sunday afternoon ritual. They were not.
Tried to interest my Mom in checking out this huge new park that has come up in Mathikere (that's somewhere behind IISc in case you are wondering). Interestingly, or disturbingly (according to your perspective), the park stands where the kere (lake) in Mathikere once lay. So that's where they got such a huge tract of land. Atleast they didn't build a mini-Vidhan Soudha or some similar PWD designed monstrosity. But her grandson was home and in cranky health so she declined.
I then got on to my cycle with some confused notions of checking out the park (which lay north of my house) and then heading to Commercial Street (which lies south) to pick up some shoes I needed. To a casual observer, I am not lacking in ambition.
The trip to the park was the muse that lead me to cycle on roads I had never traversed in my own back yard. I found the park with not too much effort, but there was nothing there to entice me in. Too many people doing their Sunday recreation! So I headed with some notion of crossing the railway line to come out near Brigade's massive new development straddling the junction of Rajaji Nagar and Malleswaram, Gateway.
While I was meandering, wondering when to turn about and try a more promising road, I spotted the railway crossing. I crossed, but not quite. A path along the tracks seems to be well worn with usage and i decided to take the road well taken. I am fascinated by trains, the sadness of IR notwithstanding. So I dragged my cycle along, saw the Jodhpur express, a goods train and a solitary engine pass. The path petered out, further motion was by hopping from sleeper to sleeper, neatly laid to form a third track, but the steel rails never came.
I was glad to see a way off to the side which joined a largish road and I took it. Full excitement to see the ugly bus shelters from Outdoor News. Which indicated that I was on the ORR - although this seemed like a devilishly peaceful stretch by ORR standards. I can hear you say Ashwin, you know which road you are on by the design of the bus stop !? You are a genius. Or a guy who needs to get a life. (digress to rant on the bus stop).
After a few furtive snaps of the bus stop with my cell phone camera, guaranteed to come out grainy, I headed off down the road to come to yet another railway crossing. I crossed. If you've been paying attention, you realize I have crossed back. Which is what I, being atleast as smart as you, thought also and turned around. Took an interesting looking sidelane to come to the village square of Jalahalli village (I think). With the sun beginning to fade, I decided not to risk it and asked for directions. Which begins the infinite circle of asking for directions to no particular place that often seems to happen with me. Which goes like this
I: where does this road go ?
(Helpful?) stranger: where do you want to go.
I: that depends on where this road goes.
H?S: well, if you tell me where you want to go (precise latlong would help) I can tell you if this road goes there or not. I can't tell you anything else.
I: and this is because this information is a millitary secret and if I don't know where i want to go, I must be a Pakistani spy
H?S: yea, that sounds about right.
I: I give up.
These guys probably supplied the search engine query results in the BG (Before Google) era where unless you asked the question exactly right, you didn't get your answer, and often not even then.
Ofcourse, lot of my side of the conversation happens in my head, given my dexterity with Ms. Lingo Leela's locals language.
The classic incident for me is when I asked a BMTC bus driver if the bus went to Koramangala and he said quite emphatically that it didn't. I got in anyway, jobless loafer that I am, and found that it went to Koramanagala Water Tank. As you may or may not have guessed from the name, Koramangala Water Tank is in Koramangala (for those of you waiting with bated breath for the twist, this is it, the aha it was the butler with a knife in the study moment). However since it didn't go to the bus stop which the dude thought of as Koramangala (with two capital Ks like in Kiran), it didn't matter that it was going close enough for the difference not to matter to me.
Anyway, today I am lucky, the stranger is helpful after he's had his fun, so I get some directions, which involve an about turn (getting familiar with this manouvre aren't we) and back to the out of balance bus stands and the railway crossing. But with a quick stop at a local bakery for an egg puff. This is an item you can't usually go wrong with even at the most humble of bakeries in beantown - when it comes to puffs, they all have it down pat. Like with croissants and bakeries in little french towns, I imagine. This one however was a bit of a disappointment.
So back on the quiet ORR (like the Quiet American, there aren't too many of these either), past some military installations till I hit Tumkur road. (Note to self, the T in Tumkur is the soft T like the 'H?S' pronounced it. My hard T usage gave me away for an outsider. Altogether more remarkable his kindness then.)
A large construction site at the intersection. As i turn and cycle, I see a sign indicating that this is where the Taj Residency will come up. They weren't going for any architectural prizes with this one. The neighbourhood was just not conducive, with those stellar bus stops and all. Pretty much standard issues, ugly large hotel which cities like Hyderabad are blessed with in abundance.
Next door was yet another large construction site, this time for the much advertised Golden Grand Apt complex. Yes, you have seen their execrable ads with Ajay Devgan and Kajol in them. The tried a bit of American style rebranding of the neighbourhood by trying to turn Yeshwantpur into the Golden Square Mile. Hasn't caught on yet, but they may just be ahead of the times. Which segues into another blog post on a Yeshwantpur Planning District I plan to write someday.
It's a sweet location nevertheless, atleast from an access point of view. Just down the road was a "Site for Namma Metro Yeshwantpur station" sign, bang in front of IR's Yesvantpur station. You can't really ask for more .
Went down the underpass that lead to Soap Factory circle - the intersection of Malleswaraam & Rajaji Nagar and the gargantuan construction site for Brigade Gateway. Did a reccee and then crossed the track yet again - this time near Malleswaram station. And I was at St Peter's seminary. Amazing, I had never seen that before.
Cycled on, not knowing where I was and entered charming Malleswaram. This was home stretch and, well satisfied I headed for home and hearth. Truly, the days are just packed.
