Back in Bangalore

 

The flight attendant speaks in Kannada as well, and I begin to enjoy my flight to Bangalore in this low-cost airline. Even some of the people in the airplane seem to be speaking in my language. That's nice, because Kannada is a fast-fading tongue in my city. Okay, it isn't exactly fading, but people from other states are fast overwhelming the original 'local' population. But that's a different story...for now I've already reached Bangalore airport and I see for the first time, ads on the conveyer belt. Looks like every inch of this city is sold.

This time I resolve not to take a taxi home, but I let the friendly auto driver con me. I agree to pay 170 rupees, although I know the going rate is more like 85 bucks. I'm a fool, but he is - you guessed it - speaking Kannada, and my heart melts. Typically, he's Tamilian, but speaks Telugu as well.

The words come slowly at first: after all my Kannada has atrophied from disuse, but soon they begin to tumble out. In a day or two, the same old inflections will be back, I know. On the way home, I see people working on half-completed bridges raising clouds of dust and vehicles belching out smoke. And yet, through all this a pleasant wind is blowing.
Those bastards! How long can the city take this?

I call my mom, and tell her I'll be home in 20 minutes. I also lay down my bet: the new colour of our house is gray and white, I wager. But upon reaching, I find out it is more a tone of yellow. Ah well, it looks nicer than before.

I'm home I suppose.