A different view.

I pass by this road twice everyday.Once in the morning and once around 7.30 in the evening.I think it's called Devegowda road,but I am not sure.It's a short stretch of cobbled market street sandwiched between regular busy city roads.The moment I enter it,I always feel I have been transported into a different world.In a city famous for M.G.Road, Commercials, Brigade's, I would say this one quietly and proudly represents a whole different genre of lifestyle, needs, taste and noise levels.

I invariably slow down and take my time passing through this stretch.Ofcourse, the choking,disorganised traffic is one main cause for this,even so.It starts off with hardware stores,oil stained and very messy.I often see the owner sitting behind huge oil drums with a big smile on his face,wiping his fingers with a rag cloth in the feeble hope that they might look clean someday. I cross that to enter a zone of aromas of freshly baked bread and pastries.The bakery always seem to be surrounded by little kids,drooling dogs and even some adventurous horses who wouldn't mind trying a roll of bread or two,if thrown at them.

Grocery stores, stationers, dubious looking drug stores almost appear to nudge each other for some place.Every single crevice has been spotted and duly converted into one shop or another.As you inch into the traffic, a burning, pungent smell would greet you.That would be our chef of the kabab corner trying to master his recipe of chicken tikka,sacrificing a covey of those birds in the process before he gets it right.I pass through all the noise and crowd and suddenly out bursts a mosque shaking hands with a beautiful temple.The silence of the mosque and the clangorous noises from the temple are truly very symphonious.Secularism speaks!The fragrance of fresh flowers and camphor,of herbal oils,mystic powders and roots is very soothing.

Row upon row of vegetable vendors streak the road.Sometimes it gets so crowded one would have to take a U-turn at the pile of tomatoes ,a right turn near the potatoes and another right at the spinach to get back on track.In India,as we all know,the smallest roads have the biggest cows.No one does a better job at sentry duty than them.Quietly and patiently they stand,one beside every vegetable shop,unperturbed by the struggling,exasperated traffic.I see them mostly during the evening,swishing their tails,chewing their cud placidly without a worry in the world.My dear bovine buddhas!

To my left,I see a play ground that converts into a fair every other day.Giant wheels and cotton candy, corn cobs and gypsy women.It's a plethora of visual stimulus.There are garment stores with the gawdiest clothes I have ever seen.Yes ladies and gentlemen,there are people who wear golden dresses with bright shiny purple and green sequins on them.Jewelry stores that sparkle like Alladin's cave.

This whole realm lasts about 4-5 minutes.It's got it all.The flare of colors,the babble of voices,the volley of vendors,the permeating aromas,the throng of vehicles and pedestrians,dogs,cats,cows,sheep....a method and harmony in all the madness.