Bangalore Days

I left Bangalore, yes I left the place I almost felt gratified. I was feeling vulnerable all these days but emails, phone calls, and a glimpse of it for a day, everything made me feel better. But why am I feeling so horrible today after passing through the pages of my diary? After watching all those photographs we took? After feeling the first shower of monsoon? After reading all those emails I got from my hooligans? After talking to my Acha unusually about Bangalore?  I made a special bond with the city and now it’s calling me, its calling me back to go back to the lanes, fabric paint, black matt pencils, poetry, ‘city creeping’ discussions, Godot, Billy Biswas, Existentialism, Art, Dreams and disasters.

I wanted to go Chirapunci and watch rain fall from the citadel, I wanted to go Ninital read ‘ The Mist’, I wanted go Kutch to dance dandia during December, I wanted to go Haridwar to watch evening Ganges aarti, I wanted to go Rajasthan and write deserted poetry, I wanted to go  Bombay and sing kishor Kumar and Rafi walking..wandering, I wanted to go Perth to watch seagulls poop on the verandha, I wanted to go Jerusalem and understand religion, I wanted to go Paris and find Cole Porter cassettes, I wanted to go Amsterdam and study their Red Street, I wanted to go Harlem and walk through the lanes Billy , I wanted to go Africa and explore the land and their past, I wanted to go Warsaw and recite ‘’ what are you doing here poet….’’….but today I think I just wanna see Bangalore and feel happy. 

I miss Bangalaore :(