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Retro in Bangalore

Almost a week ago, I was too excited to go to Bangalore. And why not, I was to meet one of my closed pals, Sandip, fondly called PM. My excitement dimmed a bit when I missed my 5.40pm Jet Airways flight to Bangalore (because of my foolishness). I was running from one window to another, desperately trying to get ticket to Bangalore. My hopes almost diminished when I heard replies like “No seats available”, “No flight available at present”, “Fare for next immediate flight is Rs.11000”, and so on. However, somehow the optimism to reach Bangalore did not die out completely and I tried my last attempt at the Air Deccan window. I had told myself anything below Rs.5000 and I am flying. To my surprise and luck I got 7.30pm Air Deccan ticket at Rs.3850 of the same day. I felt very pleased at that moment and price factor did not even attempt to occupy my mind.

I reached Bangalore and was out of the terminal by 9.30pm. “Aye Pandey”, I heard a shout and to my left was PM walking on the other side of the railing. I took fast steps to go and meet my dear friend. It took me 90 mins to reach Bangalore from Mumbai in flight and another 90 mins to the final destination.

I was feeling very nice having met PM after such a long time and was looking forward to enjoy the time with him like the way we did in Mumbai. The day of enjoyment began with cruising on bike across the city and it was very nostalgic. We both were in classic retro mood, singing our songs, passing comments, loads of jokes & pjs, and late night discussions on philosophy. Batting at a shopping mall, enjoying at a pub (something like Pop-Tates), and shopping around (ofcourse with intentions to spend less or nothing but coming out with bills much more than our estimates). It did not matter to me whether it was Bangalore or Mumbai as the kind of fun we have (and have had) has nothing to do with place. I think we can enjoy ourselves anywhere. If not anything we entertain ourselves with our versions of songs, discussing about ‘babfffs’, mimicking dialogues from our favourite movies, and so on.

Apart from all the fun and masti we had, I enjoyed going to Iskon Temple in Bangalore. It was really a very nice experience and peaceful indeed. PM took me around the place like a tour guide, explaining various things to me about the place. He knows that I am a devout devotee of Lord Krishna. The infrastructure, decoration, maintenance, and other arrangements were amazing. The ‘Hare Krishna, Hare Rama’ chants that were being played in the background made you feel so relaxed that despite the crowd around I felt like I was standing in some remote forest with silence everywhere around me.

I met one closest buddy from my engineering college, Binoo (aka Mallu, Nariyal, Falli). And I was thrilled to meet him that I did not mind even a coffee with him at CCD. It’s rare that we meet and don’t have a chilled beer. However, this time what we did together was least important; that we met each other was itself very satisfying.

Amidst all this merriment, I missed Ameet (Sambo, Paav, Bambya) and my Wifey a lot. They have always completed the gang (mischievous and otherwise too). Sambo has been with me since my engineering (1995 till date) and my Wifey is with me since last 7 years. It would be impossible to imagine any kind of fun without them. My closest friends, partners in many a crime, and the shareholders of many magical moments would have added to the amusements in Bangalore. However, I enjoyed as much as I could with all the friends that I met in Bangalore.

I also had a chance to meet possibly one of the sweetest friends I ever got. I liked silence at the restaurant, smiles in the autorickshaw, concern at the bookstore, and the cute face. I certainly cherish my friendship and thank my Bangaloree friends for the kind of hospitality they offered. The mention of my sweet friend (very rightly called forever pal) is apt enough to end this post on such a sweet note.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Dude its a beautiful retro you have brought up. Reminds me of those golden days...thanks

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