no trip to bangalore is complete without:

- overdosing on food. sometimes to the point where your stomach revolts and refuses to do what it should do
- free hugs from me momma
- a drink or two with the dadda
- extra special home cooked food
- a meal at a restaurant with the in-laws. its usually a buffet
- feeling torn between both homes and not knowing which way to give in
- a faff session at koshys with the one and only faffer: james
- conversations over iced teas, chicken sandwiches, bombay toasts and lots of laughter to go with it
- trying desperately to hail an auto to destination A, and failing miserably
- enduring the miserable traffic, unruly people on the roads and feeling utterly depressed at how things have spiralled out of control
- cursing the city, its appalling public transport and the monopoly the auto drivers enjoy
- feeling sort of overwhelmed at just how much this city i call home has changed
- an odd meal at my mums where an assortment of random favorites are made, upon my request. all replete with a special ingredient called "shanta auntys love"
- a visit to ctr to have a ghee drenched dosa. or maybe 2. and filter coffee of course
- bumping into at least half a dozen people i know from some point in my life, and often feeling like i know way too many people in bangalore
- a night spent in my former room at the parents' home
- feeling like i ought to stay a day or two longer
- returning with a happy heart, a satiated palate, a few extra pounds
- going back with bags that are bigger and heavier than the ones we came with