I hope I have appeased local rowdies with the usage of 'Bengaluru' in the title. I will now proceed to say 'Bangalore' throughout the post. Adjust maadi. :)
So I am in Bangalore. A proper Bangalore post is creating itself at the moment. It will be unleashed as soon as -
1. it is finished, and
2. a freak - and highly localised - earthquake causes my landlady to move her good self away from her PC.
You see, I am highly internet deprived. My fingers tremble in the night, but there is no keypad to soothe them. My eyes glaze over in expectation, but there is no ugly monitor to stare at. I lech at the three hundred and eighty seven cyber cafes on my way to work, as they beckon to me with their curvaceous modular keypads and their beautiful dark cable modems; my poor financial situation leads me to rebuff their advances. I stare sadly at them for five seconds and then go eat excellent tomato rice (with thick coriander chutney and thicker coconut chutney, with side order of excellent tadka dal) at Imperial Hotel, for the princely sum of eighteen rupees. Yum.
I think I will bring the two-lunch system into fashion. You will eat one lunch, and then you will eat another, just to keep the first one company inside your stomach. Cows may eat eight lunches, because they have four stomachs and of course, for a proper partay you need two lunches for each stomach.
(I am not responsible for any cows keeling over and dying out of indigestion.)
If your digestion is not strong, you have no place in the world I am going to create. The same one where I am going to be Supreme Lord(-ess? Ramu, your opinion?) where I will eat two lunches out of respect for the law (which I have created) and two lunches each for every unfed citizen in my country, just out of the kindness of my heart. I will cry copious quantities of fat, sympathetic tears for them, but I will stop as soon as I get to the puliyodharai, because you know how the rice tends to be quite salty to begin with.
I have seen some lovely sights in Bangalore, including the interestingly named Philistine Auto Repair Works off Old Madras Road, and Bux! Bux! Bux! on Bannerghatta Road, the latter being a bookshop. I have keenly observed its location (in between Chamundeswari tea shop and Chamundeswari Auto Repair) and as soon as I figure out where in this neverending tangle of roads, this bloody Bannerghatta Road is, I will run off and check Bux! Bux! Bux! out.
Strawberry Fields is a nice place to spend a jobless weekend afternoon. There is a nice assortment of good South Indian boys with curly eyelashes and adorable little jiggly paunches in place, who are cunningly attired as METALHEADSSSS. (Ya right.) There is a relaxed atmosphere composed of lots of sun, good egg rolls and a general happy unwashedness.
But seriously, some of the bands are quite nice.
PS - To Kannada-knowing peoples: I have been faithfully trotting out my extensive Kannada vocabulary consisting of "Oudhu!" "Illa!" and "X Colony olige hogitha?" at regular intervals, to sundry bus-drivers, bus-conductors and bus-terminus Enquiry Officers. Oudhu and Illa have worked ok, but one bus-driver laughed when I asked him whether the bus, X-Colony olige hogitha. How exactly have I screwed up? Kindly be enlightening.
PPS - One excellent side-effect of my luck to always be finding auto-drivers with road-rage problems, is that I may not be able to ask where the loo is, in kannada, I may not be able to order food in kannada, I may not be able to ask for directions in kannada, but if I am pissed off I can shout Nin Hendruna Kaiya! But I have been advised that this is not a smart move. Whattay bore.