I connected more with 'Dear Friends' than the sugar-coated conception of Bangalore in Anjali Menon's 'Bangalore Days'. In my short stay in Bangalore, I saw people growing apart, I saw vulnerable people, careerist people, ambitious people, and more importantly a generation of sad and confused people. They go to big pubs and cafes on weekends to overcome this sadness. And on some odd days, they will clamor about the high living costs in the city but won't dare to join a union for the same.

They all identify themselves as warriors of science and technology despite believing that myths present in religious texts as the foundation of modern science. They praise Elon Musk and express their displeasure about caste reservation whenever an opportunity is thrown at them.

This might be just one side of Bangalore, the IT professionals which consist of the major chunk of it. Then there's the other side, a huge lot of people who come from the rural poor, migrated from their Village in search of a better subsistence job. They might be from Karnataka or the neighboring states like Tamil Nadu or Maharashtra or even as far as the BIMARU states.

One thing I understood throughout this period is that Bangalore is a strange place. Outside Bangalore, Karnataka is like any other poor rural village in India. It's the only place in Karnataka where almost all development is concentrated. And more strangely the Bangalore people take pride in that, which is conspicuously visible in the jokes and puns they crack. Despite all the capital that is being invested, it's an unplanned city that reeks of the chaotic urbanization crisis. Be it the endless traffic jams or the flash floods that are ubiquitous these days, are all results of this haphazard city planning. It's a city of dreams, the perfect haven for the middle classes to fulfill their aspirations, which pushes them into the top 20 percent of the income group.

Do I love Bangalore? No. Do I hate it? No neither. But I'll miss the Bangalore weather!