During my previous trip here, the exhibition rooms were closed at the National Gallery of Modern Art. Helene, in the meantime, had been to Bangalore and the galleries were now open.
The fastest way to travel in Bangalore is on the metro. I walked to Indiranager metro and got as close as possible to the art gallery.
Whilst walking, I saw a grand post office. I remembered I had to post a letter that I’d been carrying around for a few days. When I went to pay for the stamps, the counter person told me that only cash was accepted. I’d heard this about another post office but thought it was a local limitation. It wasn’t. Even the central Bangalore office required cash!
This was irksome because I’d accidentally left my wallet behind. I’ve not had to use cash so far and, the one day I need some, I forget my wallet! I suggested to the counter staff, with little hope, that they pay for the stamp. Then, I would transfer the money to them using UPI. To my astonishment, the colleague of the person serving me agreed to do this.
With the letter dispatched, I was back on the move. On the way to the gallery, I saw a picturesque little park. It looked like I could take a shortcut through it. I walked in casually and was called back by a security guard. Entrance was Rs10. I paid using UPI.
Very soon into the park, I saw a helicopter, fighter plane, a tank and rockets! This was an odd juxtaposition. Continuing to walk, I saw other military equipment. Then I saw a sign saying “National Military Memorial”.
The exit to the part was the entrance. So I saved no time. I did enjoy watching the Indian squirrels, who move very fast, as I exited.
The exhibitions at the gallery were impressive. The main one was about Air India. There were other, more permanent, exhibitions which I equally enjoyed.
At the end of the exhibition, there were Braille descriptions, tactile representations, and Indian Sign Language translations of some of the works. I found the tactile versions interesting. They were a very different experience. More galleries should do this.
After walking around, I sat in the gallery garden, admired the view, and had some fruit and nuts.
My next stop was Church Street, the fashionable, western area of Bangalore with plenty of cafes and bookshops.
On an episode of The Rest is Politics, I heard a discussion about India. One of the presenters was optimistic about India’s future, the other less so. To reflect these opposing views, two books were recommended. They were both on my reading list.
In Church Street, I was looking for these books. Whilst in a bookshop, I bumped into a retired accountant I recognised. We had had a long conversation in Starbucks when I was last here. We both greeted each other, saying “Good afternoon, Mr Kapadia!”, each of us having the same surname.
After finishing talking, I saw one of the books I wanted to read. It was a second hand copy of the (pessimistic) book: India is Broken by Ashoka Mody. As I picked it up, I saw a fair-skinned woman. It was Mr Kapadia’s fair skin that was the starting point of our chat in Starbucks. I couldn’t work out if he was a fair-skinned Indian or of Western/European origin. He turned out to be Parsi, as was the woman I just spotted. She spent her time equally between India and the UK. We had a long chat.
Afterwards I went to Starbucks. The server was the person who was the target of someone’s anger the last time I’d been here. She remembered the incident and remembered me. After briefly talking about it, I settled down to read and have my coffee.
Yesterday, I’d seen there were a couple of free events at the Bangalore International Centre. One was a talk on trees by the author of a book on 75 iconic trees in India. The other event was music/dance inspired by Indian myths.
I went to the talk on trees. One of the trees featured in the book was the extraordinary Banyan tree I’d seen in Kolkata. Before and after the talk, I spoke to a few people and we exchanged WhatsApp numbers. I also spoke briefly to the genial author.
Having bought pasta and sauce for two days yesterday, I didn’t need to eat out. I returned to the hostel and made the same dish.