Trip to Nelamangala: Mine the City_Assignment 2

Journeys cannot be written. This post is a documentation of a journey I took from Mekhri Circle to Nelamangala. The journey was later used as part of the next assignment in which I explored the change in space in terms of the crowd and the area which was transversed.

As a rule, we were not suppose to document it through cameras, So this blog is devoid of any picture.

“The only thing I consciously avoided was asking the either conductor/driver in the first half of the journey for specifications.

As I sit to write this after returning home from a rather happening journey, I have come to realize the truth in the saying that journeys are always our own. It is our perspective that gives the journey its final conclusion.

It all started when I took the bus from the wrong direction. Instead of getting down after realizing my mistake, I decided to use it as an opportunity to document the commute for my current assignment. It is called commute in the city. I asked my co-passenger which is the last stop, to which she said ‘Yashwantpur’. Language was a barrier. So I asked twice.  I had heard that the depot is very well connected to other areas in Bangalore. So I did not bother to get down and remained on the bus. As the bus left the depot, I did not know that it didn’t take a U-turn, but went straight on the Tumkur highway. It is the NH-4 and connects Bangalore to Bombay. Everywhere on the way I could see signage showing that our path leads to Bombay. I found it weird, but was ought to I realize that I had left Bangalore long back.

My perspective was like an olden day missionary. I was noting and seeing every little thing.

All over the highway there was construction happening. It was almost a competition on who could be taller. The buildings, the metro, and the flyovers everything seemed to be running for the race. It reminded me of Gurgaon, a place on the border of Delhi which has familiar characteristics. I marveled at the engineering capacity. I looked into the minute details of how a gap between two plates (a bridge is currently constructed using pre-fabricated blocks) of a bridge is filled. I questioned what height is a good view point for someone to see the horizon. Everyday each new building is only targeting to achieve a taller parameter. ‘What and how can we define as the new horizon?’- were the thoughts at the back of my mind.

As the bus travelled further, I suddenly realized that the metro pillars were gone.  I found it strange, yet oblivion to the fact that I am in the wrong direction. With the sun setting, wide roads, a window seat, I was engrossed in the journey. It was refreshing to look outside at the never-ending road.

Finally I reached a place called Nelamangala. The signage at the entrance said welcome to the Town of Nelamangala. Looking outside, suddenly it seemed as if I had reached my grandfather’s town. Small, chaotic, less private vehicle, hap-hazard planning, crowded roads, and small vendors were few of the similarities between Burdwan and this place. What shocked me was when the bus docked inside the depot and the conductor announced that the bus is not returning.

Now the twist to the story is that I was without any drinking water, without a map and my phone had died down. As a back-up, I had an old phone which can only be used for messaging.

I inquired at the depot office and spoke to few locals to see if any other bus would go to ‘Bangalore’.

Everyone pointed out that only G-8 goes. It is the same bus I came in. I was a little tensed now. It was already 7 in the evening, and to reach home I had to get into a bus for my final destination maximum by 9.(As I later realized, Nelamangala is one of the farthest locality under the Bangalore municipality and the last bus from Majestic to my place leaves at 11:30 and not 9. But like any newcomers to a city, I had my panic attacks)

Thankfully another bus came called 258c. It was going to Majestic. It was 7 p.m. As I sat on the bus I heaved a sigh of relief. But the route was filled with traffic. Being a highway, buses and lorries had filled up the entire stretch. Also the metro construction had made the flow of vehicles tough. While I was sitting, I calculated my chances of getting home. As a back-up option, I had decided to spend the night at Central if nothing better happens.

Near Central the bus got stuck due to traffic so I got down and covered the 1 km stretch on foot.

On reaching Majestic, I grabbed an orange juice and looked for a bus going in the direction of my home. I got into a bus which was unfortunately heading for the depot. I got down and ran back to the platform and found another bus, I jumped in, literally. It’s a nice to know that I was finally on my way home. With a journey spanning 5.5 hours, with sprinkle of excitement, agony, nostalgia, I could not have found a better excuse to reflect on myself.

The journey made me realize that I am all alone, both physically and emotionally. All this while I was in Bangalore, I was struggling to acquaint myself with the place. Deep inside I knew that this journey came as a lesson, also hinting at the time to come. Every road remains for us to travel. It is our initiative and attitude that finally brings in the different perspectives. I was no more bothered that I was in an unknown territory. I was learning to move, walk, fall and run.”

Though there was excitement in the onwards journey, it was tension that held my breath in the return journey.

It was good to be home but it was better to know that I have learnt something even deeper as a person. As for the assignment, I think I have enough fodder now. What remains to be seen is how I will get all these experiences and reflections together.

Right now the idea coming are- a painting where the painting resembles an image from Salvador’s Clock, the other could be making an accordion book which would flip out into a map. I think instead of thinking as much it’s better to start writing the experience into a paper. Let’s see what the final outcome will be.