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A walk on the wild side amid Bengaluru traffic

Tribuneindia.com invites contributions to SHAHARNAMA. Share anecdotes, unforgettable incidents, impressionable moments that define your cities, neighbourhoods, what the city stands for, what makes its people who they are. Send your contributions in English, not exceeding 150 words, to shaharnama@tribunemail.com Do include your social media handles (X/ Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn)
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Illustration: Lalit Mohan
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As dusk falls and a cool wind blows, I step out for my daily constitutional. The world around me in bustling Bengaluru is literally racing against time.  

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People are rushing, vehicles are speeding… I have to wait for over five minutes to cross the road. As I deftly weave my way through the vehicles waiting at traffic lights, I notice an old beggar stretching a hand. The lady inside the car rolls up the window, turning a blind eye. In today’s frenetic pace of life, it appears there’s no time for charity.

Dodging the traffic, I manage to cross the road, bracing myself for a cool walk. A few paces down, two passengers are locked in a verbal duel with an auto-rickshaw driver over unreasonably high fare.

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A light drizzle begins and I quicken my pace. As bigger drops fall, I take shelter at a bus stop. Dust-laden workers rush past, winding up after a hard day’s slog. An old bungalow is being torn down, ostensibly to give way to a high-rise soon. Another charming abode that stood in splendid isolation amidst apartment blocks is on the verge of extinction. I notice even the stately trees in that compound have been felled. Who cares about the environment? Big buildings mean big bucks.

I’m drawn back to reality by a loud cough. An old man who has probably made the bus shelter his home is scrimmaging through packets of leftovers picked up from somewhere. It’s his dinner time, after which he is likely to curl up right there with a dog for company until dawn breaks to remind him that he has to fight another day against poverty.

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The rain vanishes as unexpectedly as it came. I decide to cut short my walk and return home. At the traffic intersection there’s more chaos; the traffic signals have become dysfunctional. As there’s no traffic cop on duty, motorists are making their own rules.

A couple of us pedestrians are clinging for dear life as we watch the insane Bengaluru traffic rush past, the honking and headlights flashing, the screams and grunts, the insults and insinuations. Finding a gap, I make a swift dash to the other side, heaving a sigh of relief. Another walk ends. Each day brings its own share of experiences; some interesting, some intimidating and some illuminating.

Stanley Carvalho, Bengaluru

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