RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE

Bangalore lessons

In trying to become a Bangalorean, I am still learning to master the language and the routes

BY SWAPNA KISHORE

Six months in Bangalore and I’m still learning to be a Bangalorean. Put me on MG Road and ask me where Airport Road is, and I will take a long time to scan mental maps. My answer, however, would reduce a true Bangalorean to splits instantly.
Crossings here are an eternal puzzle to me. I am used to simplistic versions, where two roads cross, resulting in merely three possible options for someone approaching the crossing. Here, roads cross in abundance and I am yet to master intricacies like, “Take the second left at the first crossing and the third right at the next.”

Last time I attempted to navigate using a hand-drawn map, I was four kilometres off by the time I had covered ten.

Kannada self-learning books were set aside after my husband, alarmed at the way I twisted my tongue over unfamiliar words, suggested surgical correction. Learn as you go, he advised. Use normal conversations around you.

So the next time I was in a shop, I pointed to something I wanted and asked, “Yeshtu?” The answer came promptly in Kannada. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to memorise the number table beyond five; prices being what they are, all I could have paid for, with the Kannada I knew, was a small bottle of a soft drink. The woman at the counter had a hearty laugh before she supplied the answer in English.

Using conversations around me to learn the language is not working out too well either. Shopkeepers talk to me in Hindi and English, a habit I do not discourage after my ‘Yeshtu’ experience. My in-laws talk to me in Hindi and English, while they talk amongst themselves in Konkani, to the maid in Marathi and to the security guards and the electrician in Kannada. They use Tamil while buying vegetables and watch Malayalam TV serials. It has taken me six months just to figure out which language is being used when.

I have learnt some Kannada though. I use it when ordering a dosa. “Oil, butter beda,” I say, then I add, “Nakka, nakku, ille,” just in case. The waiters smile patronisingly and say, “Oil aur butter nahin chahiye?” That’s when I relax my language muscle and flip back to Hindi. Some days ago, I tried a ‘Stop maadi’ with an auto, only to be driven past my destination, until I repeated the command, without the ‘maadi’. That accent of mine needs working on!

Looking at it another way though, I’ve been here for just six months. Some days ago, I met a lady who has been here six years and needs a detailed map to reach St Mark’s Road. Why, even I could do that if you place me on MG Road and point me in the right direction!

Maybe I should take my ‘become a true Bangalorean’ campaign in a more relaxed way. Someone told me the phrase is ‘hogli bidi’, but don’t catch me if I’m wrong. I’m still learning.