A short day in Bangalore

India has always been a favourite destination of mine. The people, the place, the food, the history... the whole subcontinent is soaking with culture. And recently, I had the good fortune of spending 36 hours in Bangalore, the Silicone Valley of India.

Bangalore is the state capital of Karnataka. Located on the Deccan Plateau some 3000ft above sea level, it enjoys wholesome mountain weather most of the year. As my stay was short, I had to give utmost priority to two must-do's of mine: 1) Stock up on Hindi movie DVDs and, 2) Eat!

But of course, along the way, picture-taking is customary. Firstly, I headed for Brigade Road, for my DVDs. This relatively short street is the local Jalan Bukit Bintang or Orchard Road. While snapping away, I inadvertently caught this beauty in my viewfinder. She is most likely from the north-east of India. How fortuitous.

A scene from the middle of the busy Brigade Road.And this is the junction of Brigade Road and FM Cariappa Road.The hustle and bustle of FM Cariappa Road.
The streets are peppered with Bel Poori stalls like this:Bel Poori is healthy stuff. It's made up of puffed rice, a little potato, plenty of coriander, raw onion, a little chili, tamarind and, possibly, date juice, and what seem like crispbread made from chickpea flour.

However, my gastronomical attention was elsewhere. Specifically, here:
I first dined at Nadhini about three years ago, on my very first trip here. It is basically banana-leaf rice. But having it here on the Indian continent, I must say, the authenticity of the meal scores highly. Psychologically or otherwise.

Now you see it.....
.....now you don't! And nothing like a cup of Masala Chai to end it.
Strolling back to the hotel I came across this enterprising little 'un manning his dad's Bel Poori stall next to some Army quarters. He saw me with my camera and immediately waved me over, "Uncle, uncle. Please take picture."
A little further down the road I encountered street kids.
The instant I took this shot, they all surrounded me, asking for a few rupees each. Heart-wrenching. Looking around to make sure there aren't any bigger groups of kids, I handed over a couple of notes. Walking on, I couldn't help but think about Nurin and our children in Malaysia. Are our kids really luckier to have been born in Malaysia as opposed to these children here in India? The arguments go both ways. My philosophical pondering was then abruptly halted by this sight:

I stood there laughing with my camera clicking.

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