Just realised that this may be the best way(and time) of leaving my foot marks in this hallowed space....not that my feet face any significant perils but metaphors need to be expounded with some care these days. If there is one place that resembles a disaster in the waiting, Bangalore certainly fits the bill. A head on collision in the wee hours ( take that to be the stroke of 10 am for us movers and shakers ) isnt a good omen to start the day with. Taxi drivers have been at the receiving end of the stick owing to the unsavoury incident that rocked this BPO city recently and a biker making his way into this Indica didnt augur well for the man in the "driving seat". The sound did betray grave repurcussions only mellowed by the melodrama proceeding in Kannada( or so I thought ) and Hindi by the two warring factions. A melee is something that ranks at number two on my "to avoid" list.. the first being giving the mirror a moment of reflection. The breakfast added to the misgivings leaving a bad taste in the mouth as well. It was all capped by the question of the day. "Where can I find a petrol "bank??" is what I made out of a stifled plea from under a thick beard that was being lugged around by a Hero Honda splendour. The incredulous disbilief on the equally bushy eyebrows when I replied that one can only be found on the other end of the ubiquitous ( and hopelessly packed ) Bangalore traffic junction was a sight to be captured on the cerebral canvass. Alas, I cant help geography ( and that applies to history as well ). Just as an afterthought, it was befuddling to imagine the chagrin of our hirsute protagonist on realizing that I had my back to a veritable filling station when I had parted with my advice. Way to go....if only I knew it like the back of Prateek's T shirt.
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