Outside the subcontinent, Bangalore is quite well known for its business climate. Within India however, the city is also reputed for its pleasant weather patterns. The two of them together have probably conspired for putting the city on the global map.
Many Tamilian acquaintances tell tales of how, during their childhood, Bangalore used to be a favourite summer destination and refuge from the humid heat of Chennai.
In the meantime, the city of respite and recreation has grown immensely in the span of the past thirty years. The journey from a population of three million in 1981 to ten million and counting at present must have been a story of growing pain and urban headaches.
Electronic city, construction frenzy and generous commuting times. Less parks and more concrete. Promises of a better future. Everything it takes and more to turn a haven of peaceful summer promenades into a polluted, dusty and sweaty oversized urban maze.
The first reaction of Icannotbebotheredtolearnhowtocrossbusystreets when I first set my foot in the centre of Bangalore, changed to Icannotbebotheredtobebotheredaboutthetraffic. And then I discovered that this city is, remarkably enough, full of leafy streets and shaded boulevards, despite the traffic jams and fair dose of chaos.
If you just close out the eternal sound of honking and take the time to walk around the hoods, you discover a great variety of microcosms: Indiranagar and Koramangala, Sanjaynagar and HSR Layout, Malleswaram and Shivajinagar.
By virtue of letting impressions naturally fall into place, the image of a lush city of gardens, lakes and digital dreams emerges. An image that does not compete with reality, but that belongs solely to the eye of the beholder.