John's World...Straight outta Sarjarapura

Sarjarapura.  I will do my best to describe this corner of India in which we live.  Sarjarapura might best be described as the India most people pass by on a tourist bus.  You blink. Look at the dizzying assortment of storefronts.  Blink again.  You are out of town already. 

Just like that.

Sarjarapura though is the real India.  The India outside of the shadow of India’s major cities.  There are no palaces, no malls, no array of international food choices.  There is just the rhythm of everyday life here.  If cities represent dreams, towns represent the reality of everyday life.  

Yes mam, I will iron both my shirt and my rupee notes next time...

Bus rider...hero

My journey began with a short, ten minute ride on bus 238.  Quick backstory.  I hate buses.  Exact change, rude drivers, pushing, shoving, the number-centric schedules that read like a lunar landing printout.  There was a large part of me that just wanted to hoof it in the 98 degree heat two miles up the road.  I chose to be brave though. 

I informed the conductor my destination and paid my ten rupees.  After several exchanges of notes I got my ticket (many places will only accept immaculate rupee notes).  A roll of the eyes from the conductor and I was off.

I got off at the Sarjarapura Police Station at place known locally as the Sarjarapura Circle.  Dodging traffic I weaved my way through a few streets off the main road.  The town had some lovely temples and mosques worth admiring.  Most of the town is apartment blocks and store stalls galore. 

I often wonder about how commerce works here.  One town block may contain four stores selling the same products.  I mean EXACTLY the same things.  You may see the same dress in every dress shop on the block.  The other thing that beggars belief are the stalls that are SO singular in purpose.  For example, if I need to have a pipe one foot long with a hole drilled in it, I would need to go to no less than three stores.  One to buy the pipe, second to cut the pipe, third to drill the cut piece.  At each storefront, I would need to hand the pipe to someone, who hands it to the person doing the work, and then I would give my money to a cashier, who then has to have someone enter the sum into a ledger.  Yes.  A paper ledger. 

One of the main highlights of the day was catching a movie at the “famous” Ravi Theatre.  I took in the Telugu movie, Laxmi NTR.  The movie was more or less a political thriller based upon the life of former actor and politician NT Rama Rao and his second wife, Laxmi.  Fairly easy to understand in spite of not understanding a lick of Telugu.  Enjoyable if you like politically centered movies. 

The theatre itself took me back.  A huge art deco façade exterior with a spacious interior.  The main screen could easily fit several hundred movie goers.  The amenities similar to what I saw in the States thirty years ago.  Simple selection of chips, popcorn, and drinks.  Far away from the modern Starbucks, cotton candy, and craft beer you can get at some theatres now.    I think I really liked that about the theatre.  No nonsense.  You are there to watch the movie.  It seems we sometimes go for the “experience” more now than the content of the film itself. 

Before meeting up with Brinda for the bus ride back, I grabbed lunch at Priyadarshini.  Highly recommended vegetarian restaurant on Sarjarapura Main Road.  I had the thali.  If you are anywhere in India, and don’t know what you want.  Have a thali.  Every region has their own interpretations but they are always good and always filling and always cheap.  For about two dollars, I got several bowls of various stews, puris (deep fried bread), rice, and a papadum (lentil “chip”).  With a fresh lime soda, it was the perfect way to end my excursion into the frontier town of Sarjarapura.

Thali...the only way to go

I mentioned before that you might drive through this town and blink and miss seeing this little slice of everyday India.  With the city of Bangalore proper getting wider and wider, one could easily see Sarjarapura get swallowed up altogether.  It wouldn’t surprise me to see this place end up as a neighborhood of Bengaluru within five years.  All the more reason to make the most of my time in this quixotic hamlet.

I wonder if goats support Modi