Jayanagara Heritage Enclave (12°55'17.71"N, 77°35'5.28"E)

 

The rich, ultra-conservative outlook of those who come from old money (generational wealth) is something that will never change over the decades, or even centuries. As I walk down the green, leafy avenue of the Enclave’s main thoroughfare, I marvel at how little seems to have changed since I was a young man. Besides the obvious, of course; the JHE is easily one of the most cutting-edge parts of the city.

Short-range flying vehicles are parked and charging in driveways because the people who live here probably fly over to the darshini for breakfast and then fly back home twice as fast because filter coffee is quite the laxative. Beautifully ornate lampshades hide a veritable cornucopia of sensors, cameras and street surveillance tech. I am walking on a pavement of translucent material that covers a long, unending ribbon of solar panels. The JHE was even the first area in the country to introduce microclimate control and outdoor air-conditioning. But, even with all this, the place feels... old. Old-world, I would rather say. That might sound better in the final edit.

Nobody makes eye contact in places like this unless their families know each other. I, of course, do not know anyone here besides a distant relative of the Minister Of Culture, and she is not in town (I checked). That being said, I spend a little time roaming around and enjoying a place that still has the spirit of the Bengaluru I remember from old photographs and video-tapes. The restaurant I casually stroll into for a quick lunch looks quaint but is eye-wateringly expensive. I can still get a solid idli-vada or dosa for a normal price, though – this must be the work of older people desperately holding on to memories of their younger years. I used to do that once, but I don’t anymore. The food is absolutely delicious, though, so maybe the landed gentry have a point in this matter.

The staff don’t even look at me. I wonder why for a minute, and then I realise.

I walked here.