Bangalored !! what the hell..

I came across this word, albeit colloquial, in a forward late in the evening at office today. After some research I beamed at my discovery. After Shanghai, Bangalore is the only ‘real’ city name that can be used as a verb (some biblical city also holds this distinction). Whereas you could be shanghaied anywhere in the world, chances that you are bangalored in Bangalore, or for that matter, elsewhere in India, are remote. Essentially, if you are bangalored it means you have lost your means of bread and butter (else where somebody would crib his job has been shamelessly ‘snatched’) and some one in India has found his, and in all likelihood it would be in Bangalore. It could have been any city, somebody could have been mumbaied too but, being the silicon capital of India, this poor city has to bear the brunt of this ugly connotation.

Connotation aside, there are quite a few more serious and graver brunts this city has been hopelessly bearing as an outcome of some poor soul being bangalored in some diametrically opposite location. Among others, one such far from being delectable, humongously annoying and tear-inducing aftermath is .. “ TRAFFIC UPDATE on 91FM!! Very slow to no moving traffic reported on.. “. So that’s one ubiquitous but lethal pest that has inflicted itself on this once peaceful small city of Bangalore for quite some time now. And this pest is here to stay.

In hindsight I feel it was a wrong decision but I voluntarily took it. Sis moved to US and we moved back to Vijayanagar last week. That’s a whopping 20 km either ways from office (more on this decision later; another of the bangalored phenomenon fallout). And mine is one of those souls that sinned in the previous birth. I feel miserably nauseated in any vehicle that is closed to the outside world on all sides and doesn’t have an A/C. So any form of public transport, be it my office bus or the traffic hindering BMTC bus, is directly ruled out. One fine evening last week I dared to use the TI bus and the repercussions were disastrous. So I am left with two choices, my 4-wheeler or my 2-wheeler (Agreed I’m a fitness freak, but walking is not an option here!). After over 2,000,000m of driving it has dawned on me that driving a car demands a lot more concentration and presence of mind as compared to a mobike. And so it is my KARIZMA (125kmph top speed, haven’t tried it though; for reasons unknown, with all sincerity, some people prefer calling it carishma) that I have been using to traverse this distance every day. Today was the third day. And I HAVE ALREADY GIVEN UP!!!

For a biking enthusiast as myself, more the time spent on the vehicle the better the feeling. But in a dekho tho jaano kind of situation that exists on these B’lore roads, how could I miss out the all-crucial word ‘moving’ in the above sentence! Cubbon Road is like what, 1 km-1.5 km long? At my jogging speed I could have done 4 rounds up and down this road in an hour. But this fateful evening I was on this darned road from 6:41pm to 7:43pm with my stationary 223cc, 18 odd brake horsepower good for nothing show piece of a bike. How is that the traffic in the opposite direction always moves so smoothly? Or is it just a clever manifestation the eye conjures up to push the soul to the limits of sanity! I am known for my patient demeanor within family circles. But hello! This is insane! Thank God! None of them was around this evening. Some other day when I’m in better spirits I’ll retrospect, analyse and enjoy these traffic snarls. Now I’ll only crib crib and crib.. I am obsessed with the word doom. This is a city doomed to dereliction and despair. This is a doomed city. My dad calls it a dead city. And so it has become. Doomed as doomed can be. Never would any of the old time localites have imagined that the foremost boon this city is bestowed with, the weather, would one day spell doom on the very city. Doomed. Doomed.