bangalore's heat is like a sweaty handshake or something

i didn’t plan to be here at 3am but here i am staring at a mosquito infested coffeeshop near marathahalli. the heater’s on full blast and it’s 36 degrees but like why does it feel like a furnace right now? i just checked and it’s…there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. honestly i’m sweating so much my armpits are basically tropical rainforests.

someone told me the locals here think yoga is just complaining in silence. i don’t know if that’s true but my friendطعيم told me if you lie on your back at sunrise you’ll meet sikhs who want to talk about tax reform. maybe? i haven’t verified that. the problem is this city’s heat makes everyone either depressingly polite or aggressively sweaty. either way, nobody yells here. not even when they’re dying.

if you get bored, mysore is a 2-hour drive where people actually own beds. i mean, not literally. they just don’t use their roofs as picnic spots anymore. but seriously, the humidity here is like carrying a personal sauna in your pants. i tried to take a shower but the water smelled like old regret. probably from the last rain.

i heard that the street vendors near b Joachim’s market sell ‘chembur’ biscuits that taste like they’ve been sitting in a dumpster for a week. someone yelled that at me last week when i asked for a photo. they might be right. i didn’t buy any. but then again, i’m too busy dodging the heat to care.

this place has this weird rhythm. like everything moves in slow motion but the air moves way faster. i saw a guy yesterday carrying a cooler of mangoes and just…walking. no frantic steps, no nothing. just like we’re all in a movie where the director forgot to speed up the ending. my coworker, who’s a pro dancer by day and a budget student by night, told me the city’s vibe is just ‘if you can’t beat it, join it’. she’s probably right. although i’m still trying to figure out how to join a version of it that doesn’t involve melting.

i just Googled ‘bangalore food reviews’ and found this weird Yelp thread where someone claimed the dosa here tastes like cardboard dipped in existential dread. another person said their taxi driver once asked for a tip in garlic bread. that’s…something. i linked to https://www.yelp.com/chicago because honestly, i can’t confirm any of this. maybe it’s a scam. maybe it’s real. who knows?

the map here is critical. i put it up because if you’re stupid enough to follow my weird directions, you need to see this:

. this shows the coffee shop i’m currently in. or maybe it’s a different one. idk. the coordinates might be wrong. i didn’t double-check.

here are some pics because i’m lazy and also because unsplash is my bff.

. the first one is the sun beating down on a random street corner. the second? a neighbor watering their plants but also judging my life choices. the third is a sign that says ‘closed’ but i’m pretty sure it’s open. again, who knows?

someone warned me the monsoon is late this year. i checked and it’s…not here. maybe it’s avoiding us. maybe it’s like, ‘nah, not these people.’ but the humidity’s still doing its thing. it’s like the air is holding its breath and then deciding to suffocate you. coincidentally, my neighbor’s AC is broken. i heard that from a drunk guy at the bus stop. he also said the nearest hospital is a ‘greasy place with bad TV’. i haven’t verified that either.

i’m not sure why i’m writing this. maybe because i forgot to blog in months. maybe because the heat made me cry while eating a packet of chips. probably both. if you’re reading this, congrats. you either made it through 500 words of me or you’re here to mock me. either way, thanks. the tags are travel, bangalore, human, vibe, messy. which is also how i’d describe this post. maybe.

p.s. if you like this, check out https://tripadvisor.com/bangalore for actual tips. or don’t. i won’t judge.

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