My motive with these piece — a collection of day outings in Bangalore —is to show how real Bangalore is. Not the cosmopolitan Bangalore city of the Manyata Tech Park or Cubbon Park or Forum Mall and Koshy’s that every outsider like me knows. I wished to bring forward the old city, the city dense with flower shops, colorful food, coconut stalls, cycle hawkers, chaotic streets, and ubiquitous hot chips corners. Bangalore would be incomplete if we don’t mention its giant trees jutting out of buildings and breaking out of concrete roads, multicolored Hindu temples with a cornucopia of deity sculptures towering above, the most random stuff being sold in bazaar shops, old-style South Indian eateries authentic to their practices even 100 years later, and the feeling of the night during the day when thick Bangalore clouds threaten the residents way more than they would like.
In this essay of Bangalore photos, I share moments that have sparsely studded almost ten years of my life. Starting in 2010, I arrived in and left Bangalore so many times I won’t even try to count my moves. Irrespective of how much I wanted to let go of the city, Bangalore didn’t leave me, not so soon.