(From the 2024 Travel Diary)

When you’re a workaholic, Sundays blur into Mondays until the days lose their distinction. With a 24/7 work rhythm, fatigue becomes inevitable. For over a year now, this has been the case for my husband, who has been tirelessly working to take his company public in the U.S. With our children having flown the nest, I no longer play the role of a helicopter mom or an Uber mom. As a homemaker, opportunities are few, so I naturally slipped into the unpaid role of a self-motivated writer. To keep my workaholic husband company, I too became one. For both of us now, work has become life and worship.

In such a rhythm, any chance to travel, especially when it coincides with his work, feels like a luxury, and for me, a writer’s treasure chest.

In February 2024, we visited India with multiple agendas. The first three nights were planned for Bangalore for my husband’s meetings. We flew via Amsterdam on January 30th, 2024. Somewhere in the clouds, we lost track of a day. The modern decor and inviting ambiance of the Bangalore airport felt like a gentle reintroduction to India. We booked a prepaid taxi, and in an interesting twist of fate, our driver shared my husband’s name. A middle-aged man with a warm demeanor, he proudly shared that his daughter was studying medicine and his son was an engineer. His values, particularly his belief in education and gender equality, left a lasting impression.

February 1st, 2024

We checked into The Oberoi in the early hours. This hotel holds nostalgic significance, as we had stayed here back in 1997, a year after our wedding. Though the grandeur remained, the hotel had evolved with sleek, high-tech touches. Exhausted, we melted into warm showers and a few hours of restful sleep leaving the nostalgia to be savored later.
After a light nap, we stepped down for breakfast. Located amidst the tech bustle of Bangalore, the hotel offers an oasis of tranquility, with its lush gardens and built-in rock fountains that muffle the noise of the outside world. Built in 1992, the Oberoi harmoniously blends the city’s dual identities: modernity and calm. 

The breakfast buffet was a delightful spread of South Indian and continental fare. We indulged in seasonal tropical fruits before my husband left for his meetings. I had the day to myself and called the familiar taxi driver we had befriended the night before. While waiting for him, I strolled through the garden, drawn once more to the majestic 120-year-old rain tree around which the hotel was built. I had posed beneath it 27 years ago. It still stands, its canopy wide and wise, a living sculpture that seems to shower blessings from above.

Later, I discovered that these trees, native to Latin America, were introduced to India via Sri Lanka during the British era. Their signature umbrella-shaped crowns are now iconic in Bangalore, aptly named the “Garden City.” These trees play a vital role in decarbonizing the city and maintaining its cool temperatures.
Our first stop was an emporium owned by an Iranian gentleman who had long made India his home. His store was filled with beautiful handicrafts, scarves, rugs, and shawls. I purchased two shawls and a few scarves as gifts. Next, we visited Mysore Saree Udyog. because one cannot leave Bangalore, the Silk City, without shopping for silk. From there, we drove past the High Court’s classic red building, paused for a picture near Vidhan Soudha, and admired the ornate temples scattered along the way. Their distinct architecture stood apart from the traditional South Indian temples I was used to.

We arrived at Bangalore Palace next, where I took a self-guided tour while my driver enjoyed his lunch break. Built in 1874 as a summer retreat for the Wadiyars of Mysore, the palace is an architectural fusion of Tudor and Scottish Gothic styles. Inspired by Windsor Castle, it now houses a diverse collection of art and memorabilia. Today, its expansive grounds are a favorite venue for concerts and cultural events.

Later, we visited the ISKCON temple. It was closed for afternoon break, so like many I waited for it to open. As the gates opened, I joined the silent line of devotees. The air resonated with the Mahamantra, murmured in reverence by every soul. I admired the discipline, so unlike the chaotic scenes at the Jagannath temple in Puri, though that has its own charm. Inside, I paid respects to Sri Nrusinghdev, Sri Balaji, and finally, ascended to the main sanctum where deities, including Sri Krishna, Radha, and Nitai Gour were gloriously adorned. I attended the aarti and sat quietly, overwhelmed with gratitude. Before leaving, I bought a box of laddoo prasad to share with the driver. I’ve always admired ISKCON’s management. Every temple I’ve visited offers a serene, orderly experience. Here too, I exited through a shop selling prayer-related items, devotional books, and prasads.  

As we navigated back through Bangalore’s bustling streets, I marveled at how the city had evolved. My earlier visits in 1997 and 2019 had offered different glimpses, but this time, it felt more grounded, more vibrant.

That evening, after a brief shopping detour at Commercial Street, we headed back to the hotel. My husband had wrapped up his meetings and we planned to dine with a colleague who had flown in from Hyderabad. We chose a local Andhra-style restaurant, Nagarjuna, known for its fiery flavors. Walking 20 minutes through the lively streets, we savored Nellore fish pulusu, sambar, rasam, and rice. I figured the extra spicy food would be good to keep any lingering cold at bay. Afterward, we Ubered back to the hotel, content and ready to rest.

(What unfolded between dinner and bedtime, a surprise encounter! But that story belongs to another blog – When Tanu Meets Real Manu.)

February 2nd, 2024

Jet lag had me tossing and turning before dawn. I slipped out to the balcony to listen to the chirping birds and reflect on the previous day. The cast-iron chairs, yellow cushions, and pink blooms hanging from the garden wall gave off a Mediterranean charm. Perhaps a projection of my dream to visit Greece someday. It reminded me of a psychological term: perception. When you’re hungry, even the word ‘good’ might read as ‘food.’

Once my husband was awake, we enjoyed our morning tea and coffee in the room before heading to the garden for breakfast. The meal, a mix of South Indian and continental dishes by the gentle waterfall, was perfect.

Later, as he went to another meeting, I took a stroll and relaxed in the hotel lobby. Called few old friends to connect and share my plans for the visit. I was delighted to hear the voice of one of my old university friend who now lives in Bangalore. But she was not in town to meet during my stay, but promised to meet next time. 

In the afternoon, we visited Indiranagar to meet a friend who runs an art studio and café called Lahe Lahe. (More on this in a separate blog titled “The Third Place”) The space, though unpolished in appearance, carried a deeply inclusive energy. It invited artists to create without judgment, fail without fear, and embrace imperfection. The entire space itself felt like a living piece of art. We ended our visit with coffee, snacks, and heartfelt conversation.

Back at the hotel, I journaled about the visit, then rested. That evening, we dined at a nearby South Indian restaurant, savoring mutton, shilone paratha, and chicken bhurji. A stroll followed, ending the day on a satisfying note.

The next morning, we packed our bags and checked out after breakfast. Our driver, now a familiar face, gave us a quick farewell tour past Bangalore Palace, Vidhan Soudha, and the High Court. Then we set off for the Isha Center near Chikkaballapur.

Perched atop a hill, the Isha Center is home to a massive statue of Lord Shiva, with his trident and Nandi also consecrated nearby. The temple itself is modest, a flat-roofed structure supported by pillars. In its center lies a low-rise mandap with a Shivlingam, where devotees queue for water to perform abhishekam. The ambient chanting of “Om Namah Shivaya” infused the air with serenity. 

Afterward, we had refreshments at the cafeteria with snacks and sweet sugarcane juice. I must admit the juice was extremely sweet. We then made a quick stop at Tipu Sultan’s birthplace, now sadly in ruins. Nearby, we visited an incomplete Jain temple for the 22nd Tirthankar. It was disheartening to see such grandeur left unfinished, possibly abandoned after its last patron. While I don’t know the history, I wish that someday the government would take responsibility for its preservation.

Anticipating Bangalore’s notorious traffic, we left early for the airport only to discover our flight was delayed by five hours. The delay, though unplanned, gave us time to explore the newly renovated Bangalore International Airport. With its bamboo architecture, lush indoor gardens, elegant shops, and cozy reading corners, it reflects the city’s global spirit. (airport)

Our 2024 travels carried the motto: Reset the Expectations to Zero. With little complaint, we found a quiet nook to sit, reflect, and ready ourselves for the next destination – Kerala.