Dear Bangalore.....
I have been in Bangalore for almost 2.5 years now and I come from a middle-class family in North India. Like many of us, nothing was handed to me. I worked through every difficult phase of life on my own merit, completed my post-graduation from a Tier-1 engineering college, and today work at an organization that most Indians would genuinely feel proud of.
Over these years, Bangalore slowly started feeling like home.
I’ve tried my best to adapt here like learning bits of Kannada from my office friends, understanding local culture and South Indian history with genuine interest, respecting traditions, and just trying to be a good part of the city instead of being another outsider who only complains.
Now coming to what happened today.
Even though I own a car and a scooty, I usually walk 2+ km to and from office every day because there’s a decent footpath for most of the stretch. It takes around 20–25 minutes and honestly I enjoy it.
This morning, just around 100 meters before my office, there’s a traffic signal where smaller roads merge into the main road and cut through the footpath area. The signal was red, traffic was already lined up, and a Ciaz from one of the side roads was almost stationary at the junction.
I crossed in front of the car from the footpath side because there was enough space for a person to pass. At the same time, the driver started inching forward, so instinctively I just showed my palm meaning “let me cross”.
That’s it.
After I crossed, I turned back for a second and suddenly the driver rolled down his window and started shouting aggressively in Kannada. I replied calmly, “Footpath anna,” and continued walking because my office was right there.
But then he got out of the car.
He followed me for almost 20 meters, shouting continuously. The only phrase I could clearly understand was “lawde ke baal” repeated again and again. The irony of hearing a North Indian abuse used like that made it very clear what kind of anger this was rooted in.
People around the signal had started noticing. Security guards from nearby offices came out. One uncle even stepped in and told us to let it go. I ignored the guy and started walking again.
When I turned back later to thank that uncle, the driver thought I was looking at him again and came charging toward me once more, shouting the same things, pointing fingers, making gestures.
At that point I just asked him, “Do you know anything else to say? Are you civilized?” and walked away because honestly, I didn’t want a scene outside my office.
What hurt me wasn’t the shouting.
It was the realization that no matter how much you try to integrate, contribute, respect the culture, or build a life somewhere, sometimes you’re still reduced to “that North Indian”.
Ironically, I currently hold an offer from a top company in Hyderabad with better pay, but I was genuinely conflicted because of how attached I had become to Bangalore, the work I do here which serves regualr people of our nation, and what this city had given me for all my past struggles.
A smaller incident happened around 1.5 years ago too, but I brushed it aside.
Today’s incident felt different.
Heartbreaking, honestly.
And I think I know what decision I have to make now.