Bangalore is a Small Town Trying to Grapple With The Image of a Bustling City

chillibreeze writer — Sheba Thayil

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All cities have atmosphere. New York is frenetic, even while you’re walking in Central Park, (especially if you’re walking in Central Park); London is cool without trying, (and we’re not talking weather here); Marrakech is like a dream (and as in a dream you feel you can do anything at all including murder and get away with it), but Bangalore? It is the nom du jour, yes. Pulitzer Prize winner Thomas Friedman mentions it on page one of his new book, The World is Flat; Manoj Night Shyamalan used it as he panned terror across the globe in Signs and it is synonymous with the mighty Indian heart of software engineering. Yet, living in Bangalore means daily, hand-to-hand combat with what is, and what is perceived to be.

Hello Scah-let, Goodbye Scah-let

Don’t take my word for it. When X & Y, a young, enterprising Indian couple from Chicago thought about their future, only one word came to mind: Roots. So they came back to the motherland, only to discover that the milk had gone sour. They started the coolest joint in the city, complete with plush velvet, purple sofas, a Scarlett O’Hara sweep of a staircase, hip music, giant TV screens and an imported chef, not cook. There was just one thing - unlike Kevin Costner’s Field of Dreams, they built it, but no one came. Oh, some did. We enjoyed the boudoir-like ambience, the food, the drink, and the eye candy. But we were in the minority, and sooner rather than later, X & Y stripped the sofa, pulled down the TV screen and went to Delhi to try their luck.

Teeming coffeehouses

Shanti is from Gujarat, but was brought up in Sydney. A quiet town, she says, beautiful but quiet, so she thought she’d come to Bengaluru and see what the fuss was all about. She expected teeming coffeehouses and skyscrapers, a vibrant nightlife, fashionistas stalking the sidewalks. She found teeming coffeehouses.

There were other discoveries, I must admit. She’s a writer and found a limited literary landscape with the same two and a half writers at every book reading of startlingly mediocre work. She’s young and found that the city closed shop at 11.30pm. She lives for Dolce & Gabbana and couldn’t even find a decent shoe store.

She’s discovered Bombay now.

Mall madness

What about the mall madness, you ask? Of course, one’s sprung up at every street corner, but since Bangalore has two main streets, that’s not really saying very much. The mall concept has also got that peculiar Indian twist that makes our country so remarkable. In Bangkok, the mall is the place where you find the best of clothes, accessories, cosmetics, electronics and more at amazing bargain prices. Contrary to popular belief, they do last. In Bangalore you will find overpriced, mass-produced bits of dreariness masquerading as Must-Haves, with food courts that are distinguished as much for the poor quality of their offerings as they are for their resemblance to railway stations. That’s not cheap, either.

The Promised Land

In one and only one area does the city rise up to meet its reputation. If you live to eat, this is the Promised Land. Japanese, Greek, Persian, Spanish, Vietnamese, Parsee are as familiar to our palate as are Chinese, Thai and Italian. The restaurants catering to these cuisines are respectful of our insatiable appetite for fine food that is served with taste and decency, not to mention theology and geometry, as the great Ignatius Reilly in A Confederacy of Dunces would say. (Haven’t read it? Haven’t lived then, have you?) Partaking of sushi at Harima, tapas at Casa del Sol or the Samak Maqli at Hypnos is to enter into a realm where the precision of flavor collides so happily with the symmetry of presentation that you feel as if the doors of Paradise have opened through your taste buds; how did Ignatius know?

But alas, can man live by bread alone? Not unless it is topped by the cheese of excess (what Bangaloreans wouldn’t do for a wild party that goes on into the AM where one can commit the sins that good memories are made of), and accompanied by the wine of good taste (theatre, nightclubs, poetry readings, Armani, and why not? good roads and uninterrupted power supply – is it any wonder that Wipro and Infosys are planning the great escape to Hyderabad and Mysore?)

What am I trying to say? All cities have atmospheres. Bangalore’s is that of a small town grappling with the image of ‘bright lights, big city’. If you have to settle down here, if the stars have been aligned that way, know this: You will settle down, alright, about six feet under, buried under a deluge of hype.

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Sheba writes for Chillibreeze