BENGALURU: How do you bid adieu to a lovely city? Saying goodbye isn’t easy when you cannot reach out and hug the one you are leaving behind, when you get no firm handshakes or a pat on the shoulder in response, when you feel like you are turning your back on someone who has been with you through challenging times, and the one being left behind is just staring back at you, calmly, promising to wait for your return, which may never happen. As I pack my belongings, discarding the junk and preserving the precious memories that I have collected over the last six years, the one thought that provides comfort through the commotion of relocation is the quote that adorned the walls of many teenagers’ rooms back in the 1990s -- ‘It’s better to have loved and lost…’
I have grown up in several cities across the country, as a child of someone who worked for the central
government. So transfers and shifting houses is only a matter of familiar mundane routines such as giving away pieces of furniture, depleting the stock in the kitchen, and taking care of paperwork like school certificate and gas connection. Things have, of course, become easier with technology, and the sadness of leaving friends behind produces a smaller lump in the throat. The pandemic has made it a smoother affair, as we have all become accustomed to nurturing long-distance bonds.
So why do I continue to be struck with pangs of separation? Maybe it’s because I know well that there is no place like Bengaluru. That behind the pleasant weather and tree-lined avenues lies its true goodness – its people. Those who were born here and those who embraced it as their home; those who speak Kannada at home, and those who, like me, slowly learnt how to string words together to form sentences in the language; the shopkeepers who smile at you; the parking attendants who fold their hands in greeting; the children who quietly take their place at the back of a queue, the citizens who fight for Cubbon Park and Church Street; the pub-goers who enjoy their evenings – and let others do the same – in peace.
Yes, the city has changed even in the last few years. There is more garbage strewn around, and new lofty buildings are grazing the sky now. But for the Covid-19 outbreak, I would certainly have added increased traffic mess on the list here. And yet, nothing can take away its merits. All the talk of its ‘cosmopolitan character’ and ‘ease of living’ is not without reason.
There is an unseen, intangible calmness that envelops the city, an orderly ants-at-work kind of chaos, which gives you the confidence that things will be okay. Consciously or not, Bengalureans make an effort to make the city a better place each day. Some, like me, hope to become better persons themselves in the process. I am leaving the city as a different person. Thank you, Bengaluru. You will always remain namma ooru.