MG Road

I just cannot do it. I cannot be in Bangalore and not write about MG Road, its arterial road. MG Road is the hub of Bangalore's ethos. MG Road embodies the spirit of Bangalore. MG Road is ubiquitous. Ask anyone what he did last Saturday evening, and he will succinctly tell you, "I had been to MG road". And you are not expected to inquire further on the matter-of-factly statement. It is a pre-empted truism, sententious in itself, and obviates the need for any kind of explanation. And the fellow will not brook any more prodding on the topic. I learnt it the hard way! I was myself guilty once of indiscreetly posing a second question, "What did you in MG Road?" To which he religiously repeated, a little annoyed, "I had just gone over to MG Road." Puzzled, I blurted out the ineluctable follow-up, "Doing what?" The fellow suspiciously leered at me as though I were some overly intrusive gossipmonger trying to malign his private life. I tried to put on display one of my most innocent expressions. After an uncomfortable pause lasting around ten seconds, "Well, shopping." Before I could react to the dismissively curt answer, he was off, out of earshot.

People familiar with Bangalore wouldn’t require any telling about MG Road and the inscrutable magnetic charm it holds for the youth and visitors: the conglomeration of teeming cultural multitudes, the toweringly imposing shopping malls, Gangarams and the roadside bookshops where you got all books for precisely seventy five rupees regardless of size and popularity, Cauvery, the antique shop, which endeared itself to the people more because of the antiquated frozen picture of people waiting outside in an eternal wait, Foodworld, which catered to the palates of the youth while also providing other provisions, and the quaintly ethnic and impressively exotic restaurants. It is only customary for every steadfast Bangalorean and non-Bangalorean in Bangalore to chart out elaborate weekend plans of shopping in MG Road. From buying trinkets for lampshades to Kancheevaram silk sarees for sweetly cajoling women of the family, one sought refuge under MG Road.

Hence, hard as I tried, I could not fathom why the fellow seemed really piqued by my earnest queries. If he was indeed shopping in MG Road, it cannot be too much a bad thing. Possibly the poor bloke might have gone hard up after a long shopping streak. His penury may have naturally entailed the irascibility. Or probably he was fleeced in some shop. Or had some distasteful experience which caused him the acute resentment. It took me a long time for me to figure out. It was experience that taught me never to pose that query to anyone. For MG Road is supposed to be an outing in itself. Well, one needs to have no purpose to visit MG Road. As I found out myself later, the otiose fellow had merely walked through the stretch of MG Road like many others of his kind. I found it out myself all right. After a rather bizarre experience. Ah, bizarre is the word. All – men folk and womenfolk alike – walked aimlessly across the two-kilometre stretch. Well, perhaps their dreamy desultory gaze was an indication not of aimlessness but of intense philosophical retrospection and a crucial appraisal of their life. But they all walked. A couple of times to and a couple of times fro. The men all flaunted attitude; they looked to ‘ooze machismo’, so to speak. And the women were all decked up, radiating fashion's most ostentatious blaze, ready to walk! And everyone walked past each other, exchanging bashful ogles! And at the end of it all walked back home, extremely fulfilled with their progress in this walk of life! You can return from MG Road with a bagful of queer observations, each one of them idiosyncratic to the place. For instance, you noticed that always the couples walking on the platform virtually clung on to each other. If they did not cling on to each other, the man took great care to gently clasp the girl's hand. Let me clarify here that I am not one who prods up issues related to an individual’s privacy. But when a conspicuous public display of mutual affection is thrust upon my faculties, I find myself unable to restrain a slight insinuation and I beg forgiveness for it. The reason for this intimacy in public though, I have never been able to fathom and I am reasonably sure that I may never be able to do so. Probably MG Road heightened their mutual affection. Or their insecurity. Or probably the straight MG road overawed them so much that they often got lost in the labyrinthine straightness! And they needed to clasp dearly to each other to reassure themselves that they were treading the right path.

And upon all their grand Satyagraha by foot, people seldom bought anything. It was criminal to buy anything. If you did, you were sure to be left with a hole in your purse and heart! The prices were as high as the number of people walking through the two-kilometre stretch! And so people entered shops, examined all their likes and dislikes, quietly walked out, deeply appreciative of the shop's display, walked for half a kilometre more and bought a replica of the object of their scrutiny, if available, from the shops on the pavement!

But it is simply the best way to enjoy a weekend here. Especially if you are a quibbling teetotaller like me! For such a person the length of MG Road provides all the highs of spirit. MG Road is a leveller on a plateau. MG Road is omniscient. The enlightenment has come upon me these days. I have been blessed with the vision of the fellow that I once queried when I was a naive duffer. These days I reply zealously and immediately, with a sense of contentment, to anybody who enquires about my weekend, "Oh! I had gone to MG Road to do some shopping!"

- posted by Dileepan @ 4:31:00 am

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