Reminiscences of a native son. Review on Bangalore

''Each blade of grass has its spot on earth whence it draws its life, its strength; and so is man rooted to the land from which he draws his faith together with his life.'' - Joseph Conrad

''Home'', a word so simple, yet so deceptively complex, meshing in itself the myriad emotions and memories which forms an irreplaceable part of every human being's persona. Ten years ago, I would say that I am very fortunate to call Bangalore home, an assured shelter when I tire of a nomadic life.

But my perception changed on a recent visit, making me rethink my options and take a trip down memory lane with the tragic knowledge that somebody had just taken down my sanctuary with the morals of a lumberjack in the rainforest. Anyway enough of my whining and on with what I think makes it unique among the large cities of India.

During a recent congregation of former residents (we would be lying if we said that Indians abroad are not parochial in their social contacts, but there are always exceptions) in a quaint Chicago suburb, I had the opportunity to listen to experiences with Bangalore which ranged from the tragic to the comic. But one indisputable common ground was that the city isn't what it used to be. For many of us it felt like seeing that first high school crush as an out-of-shape soccer mom, while hoping that time would have been kind on her.

From a travel perspective, it is one of the most cosmopolitan cities in India and thankfully attempts by linguistic chauvinists have not made inroads into the fabric of the society or the culture of the city. In fact it probably is the last remaining bastion of multi-culture in India. Maybe that's why it is so worker-friendly, which in a way has proved to be its undoing.

It once used to possess verdant gardens(and still does though not very verdant) like Lal Bagh and Cubbon park among many, which enthralled visitors to the city. The malls were extremely few to almost being non-existent and the commercial centre of the city used to be centered around the Majestic theatre. Weekend trips during childhood used to comprise of buying used comics at Gandhinagar and dinner at the Kamat restaurant which made authentic South-Western Karnataka dishes.

Another curiosity in my pre-teen years used to be bicycling to the now famous MG road and watch the teens or twenty-something with the cute Indo-British accents and pop-star hairdos. Brigade Road was off-limits until the teen years and I always thought that it was kind of an over-hyped alley where people come to be seen and not shop. But you can't beat the fact that some of the best looking girls, usually from the neighbouring colleges and Catholic schools were to be found there.

Tourists beware, you can't talk to a liberated Bangalore gal on Brigade Road unless you speak the colonial language, like the damn Queen of England. Speak Kannada or any other indigenous language and see your prospects drop faster than an ex-wise guy in a lake with a cannonball tied to his feet. This is if you can get past that ugly dickwad she calls a boyfriend. Then there is of course the Museum of Science & Technology, which is no Smithsonian but a pioneer in its own right.

There are some great book shops in and around MG Road and in the later college years a sojourn from the jungle where our school was, to the hubub of the city used to consist of blowing our allowance on books and (during my inane smoking days at college) coffee with a Kings at the India Coffee House. They still make some great sandwiches and coffee, but the cancer sticks are no longer allowed, a sort of pseudo health conscious drive.

Another great place to hang out is Jayanagar's (a suburb) mall. It has a plethora of restaurants and my favorite one was a place serving authentic Iyengar cuisine called Kadamba (can't remember the exact name). A must-visit restaurant is the MTR restaurant which of late has blossomed into a commercial behemoth. The gals at Jayanagar tend to be more conservative with some muscular male siblings, so Lotharios beware.

Take away the software firms, the shopping malls and the oft-quoted pubs and you'll find a city which still reflects the spirit of its founder and his four containment pillars. Progress is a double edged sword, transforming this once sedate retirement haven into a party-animal on PCP. Incessant traffic jams and pollution have become the norm and the city's morphing much to the chagrin of estranged natives like me.

In short the tranquility of Bangalore which once was its blessing has now become its curse. It makes me feel like the soldier returning to his high-school sweetheart only to find that the lure of money has made her the tramp of the town.

Homer said ''I, for one, know of no sweeter sight for a man's eyes than his own country''. Amen to that and tramp or not, the sweet smell of one's first love is an indelible mark on one's memory. It can and will never be ''damaged goods'' when seen through the eyes of unconditional love.