<p>A few decades ago, I experienced the joy of living in the garden city for a few years. The crowds were aplenty then too, but one could see empty pockets of bare land in between residential buildings on Nagasandra Road in south Bengaluru. On one such patch near my house, I could see cows being milked and fresh milk sold on the spot, every day. Shops were tightly packed further up the Netkallappa road and window shopping seemed to shrink the distance between Nagasandra circle to Gandhi Bazaar.</p>.<p>Gandhi Bazaar housed a star attraction for our family: Vidyarthi Bhavan. Its delectable masala dosai was legendary. The place, as I remember it, was not very large and was always teeming with patrons. The long queue didn’t help our craving. On an odd day, the husband would take our two daughters to a <span class="italic">bhel puri</span> joint on the Nettakallappa road. The mouth-watering dish, usually parcelled to me, would be savoured fresh by the tots and rounded off with a glass of <span class="italic">badam</span> milk. The little girls eagerly looked forward to the ritual. </p>.<p>Jayanagar 4th block was the go-to shopping destination for me, made more appealing by its proximity compared to Brigade Road and Commercial Street. Shopping was the mother-and-girls outing. I would shop for a few trinkets, which held no interest or use for the husband and his presence was no help for me. My simple treat for the girls would be an ice cream. The shopping and the treat, though simple, brought us untold delight. The excitement that the trinkets -- earrings, bracelets or a small toy-- elicited in my daughters, was a delight for me. </p>.<p>We did venture on longer shopping trips to Commercial Street in the ubiquitous auto. The long walk along M G Road was a mixed bouquet with my two kids in tow. Once, one of them suddenly refused to walk any further and squatted on the spot, demanding to be carried, which was beyond me. When the lure of ice cream didn’t move her, I simply walked on. After a few steps I turned to see her come running towards me! A treat of rose apples, <span class="italic">chaat</span> and ice-cream amidst the dimpled giggles of my two toddlers - the priceless denouement for me - and it was time to go home. </p>.<p>As auto drivers refused to take us home, I had to opt for the bus. As I searched for my purse to buy the tickets, I realised I had been zipped off my money while boarding the bus in the jostling crowd. My attention was on my girls while somebody else had an eye on my purse! Thankfully, a fellow passenger helped out seeing my plight.</p>.<p>There are many a good Samaritan always around. Bengaluru was no<br />exception.</p>
<p>A few decades ago, I experienced the joy of living in the garden city for a few years. The crowds were aplenty then too, but one could see empty pockets of bare land in between residential buildings on Nagasandra Road in south Bengaluru. On one such patch near my house, I could see cows being milked and fresh milk sold on the spot, every day. Shops were tightly packed further up the Netkallappa road and window shopping seemed to shrink the distance between Nagasandra circle to Gandhi Bazaar.</p>.<p>Gandhi Bazaar housed a star attraction for our family: Vidyarthi Bhavan. Its delectable masala dosai was legendary. The place, as I remember it, was not very large and was always teeming with patrons. The long queue didn’t help our craving. On an odd day, the husband would take our two daughters to a <span class="italic">bhel puri</span> joint on the Nettakallappa road. The mouth-watering dish, usually parcelled to me, would be savoured fresh by the tots and rounded off with a glass of <span class="italic">badam</span> milk. The little girls eagerly looked forward to the ritual. </p>.<p>Jayanagar 4th block was the go-to shopping destination for me, made more appealing by its proximity compared to Brigade Road and Commercial Street. Shopping was the mother-and-girls outing. I would shop for a few trinkets, which held no interest or use for the husband and his presence was no help for me. My simple treat for the girls would be an ice cream. The shopping and the treat, though simple, brought us untold delight. The excitement that the trinkets -- earrings, bracelets or a small toy-- elicited in my daughters, was a delight for me. </p>.<p>We did venture on longer shopping trips to Commercial Street in the ubiquitous auto. The long walk along M G Road was a mixed bouquet with my two kids in tow. Once, one of them suddenly refused to walk any further and squatted on the spot, demanding to be carried, which was beyond me. When the lure of ice cream didn’t move her, I simply walked on. After a few steps I turned to see her come running towards me! A treat of rose apples, <span class="italic">chaat</span> and ice-cream amidst the dimpled giggles of my two toddlers - the priceless denouement for me - and it was time to go home. </p>.<p>As auto drivers refused to take us home, I had to opt for the bus. As I searched for my purse to buy the tickets, I realised I had been zipped off my money while boarding the bus in the jostling crowd. My attention was on my girls while somebody else had an eye on my purse! Thankfully, a fellow passenger helped out seeing my plight.</p>.<p>There are many a good Samaritan always around. Bengaluru was no<br />exception.</p>