Its 7 am in the morning still I will be enjoying my dreamy characters in sleep suddenly my roomie wakes me up after he is ready for the  office, suddenly back to ground earth from dreams zzzuuuuiiiiiii…

My mind says shall I work from home today? Yes let’s sleep then for some more time. Again at 7.10 suddenly no, again I have to cook, clean, lone what shall I do in home, lets head to office.

After getting ready my 2 roomie’s will be sleeping peacefully in dreams with their own characters, I see there innocent faces of sleep and make them wake up  they still go back to sleep. Ok “makla malkoli office ge raja haki” telling this I lock up the room and escape. In 2nd floor one invisible aunty will be cooking deliciously, every day I smell it, from past 1 year I haven’t seen who’s staying there!!! That’s Bangalore.. : P

Now waiting for the office shuttle, at 7.55 am, there will be no traffic in jeevan bhima nagar – 80 feet road signal, suddenly one lady with her 2 children walks in front of me holding them to school. She walks exactly at that time… next, one old man with his dog he looks like OSHO walks behind me, there is one dog in a house which he stops and greets it, the dog above will start dancing its tail to him and his dog, I see this and turn towards the road for my shuttle. Another lady walks with her vanity bag, in a call using her headphone (from past 8 months I’m seeing her same) and stands next to me waiting for her company cab. Now exactly at 8 am I don’t know from where people gush in, full traffic jam in the signal, within 5 mins all these will unfold. Suddenly one lady comes now and boards an auto, she will be in a hurry always. I’m still in a mood of sleep I feel am I dreaming or this is real? Every day the feel of dejavu !!! ; from past 8 months I’m having the same routine people every day, again for a moment I smile and tell myself hello I’m also doing the same every day, for them the person who stands at the same time same place . Suddenly my shuttle comes and I board in greet people and just plug in my Apple Ipod and close my eyes. On the way to my office till whitefield calmly listening to some music and sleeping, suddenly nearing the whitefield police station the driver will overdrive the hump, so that everyone will wake up … “guru swalpa nodkondu odsappa” telling this we again take a nap of 1 min and get down.

The security person at the entrance looks me like I’m a prisoner and he is a jailer. I flash and get inside… the greenery, birds, swans; fresh oxygen inside office campus will be the same, routine work tea breaks, GYM, work, meetings, office politics etc… and this goes on every weekday!!! There is no change in the events or people  that we call as routine or mechanical life.

Again back to home evening at 7, I will be first to board home in and start facebuking, chatting etc.. Slowly other roomies will join in. Discussions about what went in office today, LIFE, girls, “Life yake hinge”, what are plans for the future “yen adru sadhis beku maga full doddadu hange hinge taking names of mark zuckerberg, steve jobs, NRM, etc etc”, some healthy websites , stories etc etc. By the time we get back to sleep uff what a tiring day it was.

Today is Friday a feel that starts back from Thursday evening, happily packing all unwashed clothes etc to head towards Mysore. In morning tea break everyone asks so evattu Mysore aa ninde bidappa aaram jeevna hange hinge etc. It’s 4 pm now and if I leave now I can catch 6.15 train, a train which is a great gift to all software engineers from Mysore. For this completing all pending tasks early itself and escape.

Flying in train to Mysore: I see most of the same people travelling in D1, D2 bogies of the chamundi express reserved compartments. According to my analysis a person who has got out from BE, for initial 4 years will travel like this after that CAR, marriage settling down in BLR etc. So you can see a common trend in the people from Mysore. Just after leaving Srirangapatna calling home to my brother to leave after 10 mins to pick me up. And its 9.15 now, marching a long queue of people gushing outside from train. Just think how many people like me will travel every week to Mysore.

The feel of JLB road and the fresh clean cool oxygen brings in a feeling that never ends, the complete change in just 5-6 hours, the peaceful roads, and happy faces, some things doesn’t be comparable with anything.

Having mom prepared food and checking FB sleeping off, uff what a week it was.

Happy Time: 2 days Saturday and Sunday the most happiest days for a mysorean, meeting friends, roaming KD Road, DD Urs road, A-Z Kuvempunagar, SJCE, what else, being a mysorean going to chamundi hills night times and early morning through steps, even if I go another million times it will be fresher newer, happier everytime.

Who will not enjoy with friends sitting in KD Road, having chota tea, and chit chatting about everything every week?

Shopping at DD urs road, benne dose opp to LEVIS showroom, dry gobi, faluda, soppin dose in chat street , gobi in amruth, biriyani in devi, hanumanthu… its heaven to find everything in Mysore.

Sunday evening at chamundi hills view point, that single long eucalyptus tree, a total view of complete illuminated Mysore, cool breeze, feeling of being inside clouds when it passes through us nearing chamundi temple, a chat that never ends when we sit on steps behind chamundi hills temple having churmuri, bajji-bonda, outside near “mahishasura’s statue”. It’s a real peaceful life.

These are the common words, maga ee waara Mysore ga ?, Sunday evening e horthogthiya illa Monday morning ? train a, Volvo na ? flexible timings a nim office alli ? nin bidappa life alli settle ade, nim company full dodd du, nav innu associate, nodbeku maga hike siglilla andre bere kade nodava anta, so inn 6 months alli onsite annu, alle full hudgir jothe maja gija settleu, per dm, ninde company open mado plans idiya, yen maga full status updates superru, nin bidu greatu, hmmm hmmm hmmm etc etc etc

Exactly at 5 am, at Volvo back to the concept of sleep and travel, sleep like a baby etc. getting down in busy majestic gija gija, boarding 335 E and landing………

We are a set of people who can’t settle down completely in Bangalore or nor we can come back to Mysore and settle down, nor we can take our parents and settle in Bangalore, so life isthene, life hingene.. it goes on and on…………. 5 days in Bangalore 2 days in Mysore………

Moonlit Kaveri… when she cried !

The light breeze that blew felt like a kiss on her forehead; she felt as if his hands caressed her when the breeze blew her hair mildly. The sparkling cold droplets of rain-water from the tree made its way from the tip of a leaf to her cheek and then reached the soil but it surely made its way through the corners of her lips…!

That lucky tiny drop finally managed to wake her up. She opened her eyes to see a full-moon through the illuminated wet leaves of the tree under which she had dozed off. Twenty two years of her life had passed in this insanely huge house in a tiny remote village in the outskirts of Mysore. And most of those years were spent under this huge banyan tree that majestically stood in their backyard. It was almost midnight and she had forgotten to even lock the front door and tie the cows inside the shed. There was no one in the house today which usually would be crowded with a million people.

She hurried and finished the chores. She was alone today and no… she wasn’t complaining..! After-all she could do whatever she wanted to do without anyone’s unnecessary interference…! But there was just one thing she fancied… take an elaborate dip in the Kaveri River which flowed just in their backyard next to her favorite banyan tree…!

Her eyes bloomed with joy as the lengthy drapes of her saree flew all around the house as she ran towards the backyard and sang her way to the moonlit Kaveri that was more gorgeous than ever because it had just rained to make it swifter. Moon light can make even a puddle of water on a road dramatic… but this was the ever-mighty Kaveri herself. On this full-moon day, Kaveri looked as if the moon melted and chose to flow in her backyard.

She touched the river with the tip of her feet and this sent cold shivers down her nerves. Within no time she had stepped into the water neck-deep…! Water looked more like mercury with all the moonlight and when she took out her head slowly from water, her eyes looked like two stars rising out of that melted moon…! Her wet skin glowed like never before in that moonlight. She came out of the river completely drenched and her dripping saree had never suited her better… ever…! It was all like a fantasy… just then she heard a deafening thunderous blast and turned around.

He woke up in shock as his fellow soldier yelled out to him “Looks like we are under attack… there’s a bomb attack… get up and get your stuff… hurry…! Lieutenant has called for a code-red alert… Hurry…!”

Thousands of miles away from Kaveri, up in the very North of India, in Kashmir, he woke up from a dream of his wife Kaveri, whom he had married in the 4 days of vacation that he was allowed 7 months back. And he could remember her face just by a single photograph. He had to actually cut out a negative film from the wedding camera and get it developed near his camp in Kashmir. He couldn’t stay for more than 2 days in his place after the wedding.

When reality strikes, that too after a dream too pleasant, it’s much worse than any bomb. As the whole battalion got ready to strike back and attacked the terrorists who had cowardly bombed a military camp when the whole country slept, he couldn’t help but continue thinking of his newly married wife. As he shot at the intruders, he could see them run away or shooting back; but the images that actually flowed in his mind were of his newly married wife and his family who lived in a tiny studio apartment back in Mysore with a small 15 inch television and 3 huge carpets as the only furniture. He shot at them with more anguish when he knew his wife would have skipped a meal or two to buy his ill parents a dose of medicines. He wiped his sweat on the forehead knowing his wife would be doing the same as she would be cleaning up the house, not just his house but of the whole building to add some extra money to their almost non-existent savings !

Back in Mysore, all the way down south, away from all the fantasies, Kaveri had just finished daily chores of her house and almost 6 other houses. She dragged herself to get some rest and switched on the television. She preferred news channels these days because she felt there is something huge going on in the country. Young and old of all the homes where she used to work were getting ready every morning with their faces painted with our national flag, some of them took her help in getting big banners done, so she knew something was happening around the country. They all wore a sticker which said, “I am Anna”, which actually introduced her to a person who was sitting somewhere up north near her husband and was not having food since a long time to fight for a cause.

Just the same morning, one of her friends who worked at a multinational company as a house-keeping staff, and whose husband also was in the same battalion as her husband, had said that there were many people from that company who were taking out marches and shouting slogans all over the city throughout the eight hours that they were to be in office, from the past 10 to 12 days…! She had also complained to Kaveri about the extreme crowd immediately after 1 in the afternoon in the cafeteria of the company because she had to clean vessels and tables of all the people together at once, which was not the case when they were in office…!

She had mentioned one thing just casually which had caught Kaveri’s mind. She had wondered if all these people who are fighting for something important would support all the families in military who are risking their lives for saving their nation every single second of their duty in defense. Would they rise to the occasion and protest to get the defenses more equipped and increase the chances of the military men to safeguard the nation without worrying if their families had their meal? Even a cook at the military camp is at more risk than a CEO of a Multinational company, because if the CEO screws up or goes negligent, he might get fired or at most, could result in financial losses for the company. But if a person in military slightly deviates from his duty, he is risking not just his life, and not just the lives of his fellow military personnel, but also prides and lives of a nation…!

As she wondered, she saw breaking news in almost all the news channels that night “Victory for Anna” and the whole country cheered with him. They all sang our national anthem and a crowd of thousands and thousands sang with him with pride. She didn’t really know much about what it’s about, but she felt a sense of pride anyway. But then her eyes caught different small tiny news that made its way in the ticker section much below the Breaking News, which ran very fast for her to read. All she could read was that a military camp in Kashmir was attacked and most of the personnel in the camp were seriously injured from this attack. It wasn’t big news to cover as no lives were lost. She had no reason to believe that it would be the same camp as her husband’s, but it did not have enough information anyway and then again, she also had no reason to believe that it is not her husband’s camp. She suddenly felt an immense fear but didn’t really know what else she could do, so she just slept with moist eyes.

All she could do was pray and cry her heart out for that day, because for the next day, Kaveri had to earn her part of the daily bread, even as most of the youth in all the cities would celebrate the Victory of Anna.

Noses dripped rigorously… Hankies were pinned to the shirt pockets as they stood in-line…  White chaddis which looked just out of a TIDE advertisement some half an hour back was now no less than the khakis… Socks which stood tall till the knees (held by a rubber-band) were now hanging out of the shoes like an eighty-year-old’s lips… One of the sissy ones stood there crying for mamma as he fell with a “fresh ‘n red” big bruise on his knee… and oh… “Drippings” from his nose served the purpose of first aid (gross? tell that to the kids!!!)… And yes… there was a separate line for the frocks…  Clean ‘n White frocks… Socks which still had their life intact with the elastics, stayed elegantly at their knees… Some had a whole basket of fresh flowers pinned to their twin plaits and the rest had scarves as if they might find themselves in the midst of a snow-storm anytime (Mothers are to blame for that fashion disaster..!) … Various kinds of bindis adored their foreheads… Scattered patches of “talcum powder” were the highlight on almost all their faces..!! The contradictions between the sexes had started all the way back then…!

“SILENCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” screamed the Head Sister like an Opera Singer from the stage (she didn’t even realize the mike wasn’t ON yet… she didn’t really need one though) and it took less than 2 seconds to make a line which couldn’t happen from last half an hour!!!

“My dear children, Good Morning… Do you know why we have all assembled in the ground this beautiful morning?” asked the sister with a generously broad smile but the glasses that somehow managed to balance itself on the tip of her nose negated that smile.

Every single chaddi and frock on the ground screamed from the top of their voices in chorus “It is Independence Day, Sister”!!! And after the main answer came many subsequent answers followed which ranged from “Chocolates”… “Cakes”… “Chocolates” … “Dance”… “Chocolates” … “Flags”… “Chocolates”…. “Chocolates” … “Chocolates” … to mention very few and no prizes for guessing what their favorite was..! Some were just too excited to say anything and they just joined the chorus and made “sounds” which resembled other kids’ answers…!

The next two hours were spent in listening to many “Dignitaries” on-stage giving their speeches about India’s Freedom Struggle and how India should be grateful to our Freedom Fighters… they all preached on how we should develop a nature to love our nation… most of them forgot that it’s a school stage and not a stage to perform at a theatre… Theatrics and Nautanki was the major take-away from most of their speeches.

The last speaker introduced by the Head Sister was an old guy… by old… I mean… very old…! He seemed older than the whole “concept” of getting old…! He was wearing a simple white kurta-pajama..! As the cliché goes, he had to be a freedom fighter…! Turns out… he actually was one..! Head Miss introduced him as one of the participant of Dandi March.. (Very few nerds at school knew about Dandi march back then) By this time, all that the kids were concerned were those big boxes beside the stage which they knew were filled with chocolates…!

“My dearest children… How many of you want the chocolates in those boxes…?” asked the kurta guy from the stage in a subtle yet loud enough voice..! Since his question had THE buzz word in it, a loud response followed.. All of them shouted yet again in chorus “Yes yes… me me…” and most of them had their hands raised… and a few teaching staff had their hands raised by default! (was it the power of chocolates or was it just our fixation for free stuff… well… who cares..!)

Just then, he spoke again… “I will give you all these chocolates, but on one condition… No one of you will be able to go back home to your mothers today… You have to stay in this school without your mother…!”

This statement again had another buzz word which every kid over there could recognize… one by one all the hands started to drop… within seconds they were all staring at each other’s faces restlessly and then at the gate searching for the face they believed wouldn’t leave them…! The sissy kid with the wound who had forgotten about his wound was now back in the verge of a major tear-burst, followed by vocals of course!

This is when the old guy just walked away from the mike and went to the Head Mistress and whispered… “Did you see that sister..? They are no different from all of the Freedom Fighters… they are not ready to give up seeing their mother even for a day to have something as precious as boxes of chocolates…! I was just like this when I fought for my mother… We don’t have to teach them anything… All you have to do is make sure that they don’t lose what they already have it in their genes… it’s the love… for their Mother”

It took almost an hour before the school teachers could convince the children that their parents were just outside the gate; and that they could go ahead and eat their chocolates. The Head Sister had a little tear-drop as she smiled at the one man who spoke just two lines and made the most impact; and this time… not for the kids… but the teachers and “dignitaries” who were trying to teach the kids something which they needed to be taught… by the kids of course.

Loads of words about freedom struggle and endless theatrics about loving one’s nation couldn’t do it… but a few frocks, chaddis and chocolates did the trick…!

This is something I have shared with people on and off.. And MasthMysore gives me another opportunity to do the same; my inspiration being one of the previous blogs ‘Weekdays in Bangalore, weekends in Mysore’. I have almost the same views to share; in fact you all may feel this as an extension of that blog:)

Well, through all the ups and downs, life seems to have come to a standstill…

Post graduation, like all others (or at least like most of them) I too sat and blindly prepared for my Post Graduate entrance exams. Born and bought up in Mysore, all I wished for was a PG seat away from home (Crazy!). And so, here I am, doing my post-graduation in Bangalore.

Happy to be away from home, and have all the freedom I could have, I was raring to go to a new place, a new college, a new environment, a new experience….So, I am not really eager to come home in the weekends (courtesy : the traffic snarls I have to endure before I get to Majestic from Whitefield!!). But then, I invariably end up coming to Mysore because Mysore is irresistible!! Mysore is a lovely place and I am in love with it more than ever. It’s an amazing feeling to get down at the railway station and see the yellow board ‘MYSORE’ with the marvellous Chamundi hills at the background. Even with my eyes closed, I can recognize Mysore and its warmth. The air here is distinct and definitely has something peculiar and ‘namma’ feeling in it! Home-made food welcomes me. Next morning it’s the traditional morning trek to Chamundi hills with friends and the customary breakfast at GTR. Try telling a Bangalorean about this, and pat will come the reply, ‘‘Chamundi betta? We also have Nandi betta’’!! Huh?? Come on!!!! What & where is the comparison!?! And that is when I realise that the beauty of Mysooru can’t be explained. For it is not a place that can be described, it is a feeling that can only be experienced. Everything in Mysore has more to offer than what meets the eye. Even the routine Mysore palace which leaves every tourist spell bound is spectacular and even more beautiful than what the regular eye can decipher. From the ‘quaint sun ray’ view of the palace at 5.30 a.m on way to 2^nd puc tuitions to the ‘mid-night’ view enroute to Chamundi betta for those memorable drives… I have seen most of the ‘views’ and believe me, the manifestations are magical!

Well, as less eager as I was to come home, I would be even less eager to get back to Bangalore. Very reluctantly I reach the railway station by 4 on a Monday morning. But by the minute I reach the station, am all rejuvenated! I love the railway station, especially at that time when everyone is sleeping warmly in their beds. It gives me a feeling of getting into an adventure. I love the silence, the train’s whistle breaking the silence, the darkness, the cold, and the wait… the place where many journeys begin and where many end. I reach Majestic by 7 and college by 9, and then the grind begins, until next Saturday, when again it’s a journey back home…

The best part of my PG life, however, seems to be my countless train journeys. The rush to board the 3’o clock Tippu express, which gets me home in 2 and a half hours flat; the serenity of the Mandya-Mysore stretch, the lush green paddy and sugarcane fields, with the occasional spotless white cranes, the wide expanse of our lifeline Cauvery and her tributaries beneath me, the village rustic with his herd of sheep, the rare peacock, the slight drizzle, all, as seen and felt through my foot board seat…Spectacular!!

All said and done, I am just waiting for my course to get completed and get back home, to get back to Mysore.. Well, the countdown has already begun.. 298 days to go!!! Mysore, am waiting to grow amidst you once again!!!

Narcissus   in Greek mythology was a hunter from the territory of who was renowned for his beauty. He was exceptionally proud, in Long ago in Greek mythology there was he fell in love with his own reflection in a lake. I have a flip side to it today by giving my own version of Narcissus and   Greek Mythology by not any research or reference but just by the beauty of the lake which I saw a few days before.

My friend had bought a new car and he was more than eager to drive us down the country side. On the way we had to pick our friend who influenced us to change the route map of what turned out to be a special drive.

After having a stare at theLalithMahalPalace, Mysore We headed towardsT Narsipur Roadto witness one of the most beautiful but unsung lakes. This lake has had an amazing history and was the brain child of then Mysore Dewan Sir M.Visweswaraiah..

My friend who took us was a regular visitor during his college days. This place was more than a home to him where he shared his joy and shed his tears. .Probably there was something more than human which made him go to this lake this time around. On this visit , It was my friend consoling the dying lake.

When we reached the lake, he was visibly sad. After repeated persuasions he revealed us that what had been his companion all these days would no more. Yes, you readers read it right. The lake would die soon if it was not saved.

The lake which nested various species of rare birds was witnessing the barbaric onslaught of development. Nobody around there seems to bother as to how to save the dying lake. The innumerable dotted trees were chopped mercilessly for no reason .It would have been treasured like a kohinoor if that was in any other country.

I earnestly request all the visionaries.,Masth Mysoreans and all the folks of Visweswariah (Read  VTU folks) to save the dying lake and make this a place for everybody  to share their joy and shed their tears.

On that day I realized it might have been this and the very same lake in the Backyard of Namma Masth Mysore with which Narscicuss(read my friend) might have fallen in love with and not with his beauty.

Forum Mall in Mysore @ Nazarbad which is under construction by Prestige Group.

Monsoons are always magical. Rains make you feel nice, great, ecstatic. The shift in the air due to the smell of sand when it rains , is a kind which every soul would love. All it did to me today while I was sipping my cuppa all by myself was make memories dance along on my mind like waves at sea. And all those waves seem to have come from Mysore, the place I proudly call ‘Home’.

Apart from the playing with hailstones and catching a cold when we were kids and associating rain with romance when in college, there was one memory in particular which got a smile on the face which stayed on for quite some time. It was of a place which is invariably a part of the definition of Mysore. A place which is one of the reasons for Mysore to get famous. A place which in a way that we don’t understand, guards Mysore. A place where every single Mysorean would have gone a zillion times, maybe for a drive, or for an early morning jog along the steps, or for an evening with friends, or for a late-night star-gazing, or to actually seek the blessings of the Almighty. Well, no prizes for guessing, I am talking about Chamundi Betta for sure.

Be it the spiritual oldies or the fun loving us, I’m sure Chamundi Betta is the favourite adda of every single Mysorean. And rain just adds to its beauty. Its a pleasure to watch betta disappear into the rain and then reappear all the more beautiful. And to watch this from your very own terrace, which other city would have such an advantage? A drive or a ride to Betta when it rains is the best thing to lift anybody’s spirits. If you’re riding pillion at Betta and it starts to rain, isn’t it the best feeling to have your arms wide open, eyes closed, face up and welcome the rain? And to go with it, what a beautiful view of Mysore with the mist and clouds forming a veil over it! The Amba Vilas Palace emerging out of the mist looks all the more Royal.

Betta was a beautiful view from the hospital I studied at too. And there were times when it looked so serene that we friends missed the afternoon class to drive to betta in the faint, soft drizzle and feel the gentle,lazy breeze brush through our hair. That was the best replacement we could ask for a boring afternoon lecture.  The times spent there and the snaps clicked are a treasure for sure. Clicking snaps at the view point, with Mysore supposedly in the backgraound, when it rained and mist covered the city, all we could get as the background was the white mist. And then, after a while, the mist would disappear slowly and there you go, such an breath-taking view. And the camera used to go ‘click’ ‘click’ again. Many friends shifted under one umbrella for a snap, then looked at Mysore and said ,’Mysore eshtu chenna alla?’. Going up the hill further for a cup of hot steaming coffee, those were the moments that were really candid. Sitting and chatting for hours at Barista or going dancing at The Road ain’t gonna replace such times for sure.

Lifes changing. Friends parted ways. They went miles away to make their career. I too bid adieu to this beautiful city which has been my abode since the time the surfactant acted on my lungs and breath happened for the first time. We depart to arrive and arrive to depart. Have to move on for the bigger and better things in life. But deep down, there is a voice that says, Mysore is home, and home is where the heart is. Whatever may happen in life, whereever we are, this is the place we are gonna head back when we need to ‘relax’. The city we would head to might not treat us well or ask too much of us. But come what may, however low we fall and feel, we know for sure, Mysore is gonna be there for us. We are always welcome here.

Rains have seen all our emotions-blissful smiles to walking aimlessly with slower than the snail footsteps to hiding tears amidst the raindrops. Rains sure touch our soul, deep.When we get drenched in whatever city we are, the rains make us miss the ones we had in Mysore. Maybe a tear would take a peek then. Hope the rains of that city would help us hide it..

The title of this post is very simple, “Weekdays in Bangalore, Weekends in Mysore.” But unfortunately, the lives of most of us aren’t. This post is for all those who are from Mysore, who are settled down happily in Mysore, but are working in Bangalore. People like us constitute a healthy percentage of the working population in Mysore.

Some of us wanted to come work in Bangalore because of the lifestyle (come on, you know what I mean, don’t you?). Most of us came here because we din’t have any other option (Not that there aren’t any jobs in Mysore, but a little secret that Engineers alone know is that you can get a job in Bangalore no matter what you scored in your B.E.). And some of us have come here because the job that matches our profile, or likes, aren’t available in Mysore.

Whatever the reason maybe, the important thing to know here is that most of us have partially migrated to Bangalore. One thought always comes to my mind (please don’t laugh at it). I have moved to Bangalore for my job now. A few years down the lane, I may get married (not “may”, I “will”). And after that, you know, I’ll have kids and all. I’ll have to put them into a school over here in Bangalore. By the time I say goodbye to my professional life, my kids would have become men or women with their own jobs, may be in Bangalore or some other place.

Now, between all these nightmares happening in my life, I will be stuck in Bangalore as my job is here. I may not go back to Mysore, maybe sometimes visit the city. So, by the time I become a compete ripe fruit, I would have completely settled down in Bangalore, which I don’t want (no offense Bangalore-lovers).

This is just one of the random thoughts that fill my mind when I’m doing almost something (you can never be doing be “nothing”, if you think about it). So, like this, people from across the country come to Bangalore in search of a means for living and just make the city a not at all good place to settle down.

Coming back to the topic, people who are not in this situation (people still studying, or people who were lucky enough to get a job in Mysore, or people who are lucky enough that they don,t need a job, etc.), don’t really realize what kind of pain we deal with every week. I don’t know about others, but it sure is a pain to me. People outside this mess think that we are living our life to the fullest in Bangalore, a city with “different colors” (I don’t know who came up with that phrase, but I hear that a lot).

But trust me, we don’t live the life with “different colors”, over lives are black-and-white than you can imagine. We hardly get time to watch a movie, or read a novel. To be frank, I had to keep a track of my schedules and make myself free for a few minutes to write this very post.

Our routine is very simple here in Bangalore.

• Get up early in the morning and get ready.
• Rush to the restaurant near you to have your breakfast, there is a huge crowd for this, and you’ll have to wait for at least 10 mins to get your food.
• Gobble as much as you can in the limited time you have.
• Rush to the bus stop to try to get into that heavily crowded, about to turtle BMTC bus. For those of us who have our own vehicles here, we have to rush to get ourselves through the heavily loaded roads.
• You are in office now, maybe a bit late, but you have work to do, a lot of work. So get to your cube right away (no, don’t think to saying Hi to that cute girl you always stare at, your team leader/manager is on you for being late).
• Lunch break (it was such a fun time in schools, but not here). Go to the cafeteria, get your plate, stand in the queue. Have you see those Hollywood movies where the criminals, with their hands and legs tied to each other, stand in the line for their nasty foods? It will be really awesome if you can picture us in that situation.
• Gobbled you food again, now back to work. Tea break, don’t think of it. Work, work, work….
• Its 6 PM, time to go, but no, not for you (why do everybody else gets to leave early and not me? Oh, wait, you came late to the office today). So bit more time, alone with my computer, so romantic (tell me about it).
• Anyway, you finish your work and while getting out of the office, you notice that the cute girl is already gone.
• Go back home, its late, you are tired, eat food slowly, sob, sleep like a dead lizard.

This is just a brief, there are a lot of things happening between all these. So anyway, the first five days of every week go by like this, and you never know when its Friday (#TGIF). So, you finish you work on Friday eve, go to the bus stand, or railway station. You find that the respective modes of transport are already heavily crowded with people just like you, co-incident? You bet!!!

Again, you try to fit yourself in the crowd, reach Mysore, get to your home, see your family, and sleep (but like a not-so-dead lizard this time). You wake up in the morning, guess what? Its a weekend. Now it depends on every individual as to what you do on weekends. So no comments.

But anyway, this is our story, we, the people who live weekdays in Bangalore, and Weekends in Mysore. If you are an Engineer, you would probably have got an SMS like this before, but I would want to change it and write here again:

“Life in Bangalore is like a public toilet. People inside it want to get out as soon as possible, and people outside it want to get in as soon as possible.”

Taking leave. Bye.

PS, I’m already late for work, I’m screwed.

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