It’s a thirty-minute drive to our apartment, tucked away in North Bangalore. It’s my favorite drive in the world- the tropical air always cool and fresh and full of promise.
At the ungodly hour of our arrival, Bangalore was uncharacteristically quiet. As we drove away from the airport, the light and rush decreased to almost nothing.
I rolled down the window all the way and the cool night air flooded inside. With the streets empty and calm, I was not afraid to put my hand outside the window, opening my fingers to let the wind slip through. It’s a thirty-minute drive to our apartment, tucked away in North Bangalore. It’s my favorite drive in the world- the tropical air is cool and fresh and full of promise.
The noise begins around nine. It’s a far-off sound, mostly dispelled by the thickness of the garden around the building; cars, trucks, buses, people…this country is almost made up of noise—noise and a few quiet places. The quiet places make it beautiful.
I’ve come back to Bangalore many times since I was born here, and each time it feels a little more welcoming, a little more like home and a little less like a stranger. I know these streets now, I know how to get to my auntie’s house from the best breakfast place, where to find the best guava vendors and how to get the best price. Traveling in India is an eyeopening experience, not only because you are surrounded by breathtaking sites, but also because you are amidst an ancient sea of people.
Next post: where to eat in my hometown, Bangalore!
