It has been almost a year that I stopped living in Bangalore. Bangalore was wonderful when I arrived there. I remember being there for some exam (and I can’t remember what it was called) and at that point of time it used to rain, even in the summers. Around 2-4 PM when the temperature rose, it poured. It was not uncommon to see random people on streets walking with an umbrella without a single cloud in the sky.
Back then...
I am talking about the year 2006. A little more than half my lifetime back. Back then, you might not believe it, but there was enough space on the roads to walk comfortably. People were not as bitter, the rush was less and the air was breathable. Anyone would have loved Bangalore from back then.
With time, things changed. I got married to a beautiful woman and got a lovely kid. I went back to my hometown. After about 1.5 years, I moved back to Bangalore as COVID had mostly gone away. In the next 2.5 years that I lived in Bangalore, I saw a dramatic decline in my health. I saw my wife’s health deteriorate. This was still bearable as it was slow and was not all that visible on our adult bodies. But my child was in pain. A small tasty snack and problems would start and would stay there for a few days.
Like all parents would, we rushed to doctors. To my surprise (but equally not surprising), I got told that the problem with my kid was “lifelong”. Not once, but twice by two different doctors from two different hospitals. I felt helpless, sad and agonized for my kid.
Gender Roles
The modern world says “women are equal to men”. I humbly disagree. We are different and women in certain areas are much more capable. I have seen women do things that I can’t imagine doing. The care of a mother is seems to be beyond humanly (or at least man-ly) limits. I have seen that with my mother. I saw it again with my wife. She took charge, confidently rejected the diagnosis done by those Doctors and said “I will take care of it”. I was not very satisfied, but I trusted her “mother instincts” and the unsaid, yet super-obvious statement - I know my child.
While this was going on, it happened that we visited our hometown(s), which are tier 2 and 3 cities/towns. We also visited villages a couple of times. Quite surprisingly, my child saw no health problems in the hometown. She did not cough, did not catch cold, played with pets, bathed in cold water, ran in fields and sometimes ate mud. 0 problems. The problem she was facing in Bangalore - gone! The foods that triggered her health problems? 0 effect, none that we could observe at least.
When this happened the third time, we were confident that it is an “environment” problem. And with all due respect to the medicine science and good-will of doctors we had gone to previously, we knew that if we wanted the kid to enjoy life, we had to leave Bangalore. All this because my wife stayed at home, took great care of food that we ate, and was a full time mother.
Tomatoes, Snakes and Insects
I moved back. Now, the place I live at, is at the outer edge of the city. This place is going through the phase of (un)development. Buildings are coming up, quick-commerce platforms have started the invasion and I can see that the native residents who have not lived in large cities think it is some kind of uplift of their standards. Not that someone says so but I can see that people feel pride in ordering online and someone comes and delivers the convenience on the doorstep. That being said, I have stepped away from that. I love going to shops, chit-chatting a little with the shopkeepers.
I end up walking more. I see more people, strangers, acquaintances and have made a few friends out of them too. Remember the place is “going through the (un)development” phase? That means when it rains, I get to see greenies. Fields, water flowing on the road and guess what - fishes in the pond, snakes on the path, insects inside house sometimes too. There are more trees, more mosquitoes and better-tasting vegetables.
A few months back, my wife was quite concerned about her tomato stock. It would end up disappearing, or being significantly reduced before the planned usage. I, as a kid loved tomatoes and I would pick one raw tomato and eat it enjoying the taste. When I was in Bangalore, this habit dropped. Not because I fell out of love with tomatoes (I can’t, I literally can’t!) but because the tomatoes there were simply not good enough. Before being pointed out, I had not even consciously registered that the tomatoes here tasted much better than they tasted back in Bangalore. Maybe it was the water, the ground, the fertility of it, or something else. It just happened.
Infectious
Snakes can be lethal. At least some of them. And common people don’t really know which one’s which and what can a bite from that one would do to you. Insects can cause various health problems too. And yet, when I see a snake, I feel more alive; scared, yes, but more alive. I guess the sense of fear makes you respect life, makes you feel the gratitude, makes you realize that you are mortal.
Back in the city, surrounded by pollution and convenience, we forget that death is always close. The sense of protection from natural elements can make you feel immortal, not literally, but at least with the deviations, distractions towards so many other things, it makes you forget .
With time, I have felt more alive around these things, these presumably dangerous elements. I remember living as a child, in an area where the problems were the same, only bigger. We lived on the ground floor. The rain-water was no friend. Neither were the snakes, lizards or insects. The spiders were a menace. All of this took quite a bit of effort to keep everything maintained. But it made me more alert, made me respect life more.
That sense has returned. The feeling of being alert and alive has returned, at least as a fraction of the earlier. I guess that’s how it is - Life is indeed, infectious. You feel alive around things that are alive.
That is my personal view. Do you think different? Let me know in the comments.
Oh, wait! You can’t comment here!!!