Two things are infinite, universe and human stupidity. I’m not sure of the former - Einstein
[Note : If you’re looking for ’Travel’ please look elsewhere. I’ve written here exclusively about the issue of renaming Bangalore.]
How could they do it us? Can there be anything more stupid than this? No words can describe the outrage, I, felt reading about the move to rename Bangalore; taken at a tax-payer funded tea party by the fatso Chief Minister and a clique of so-called Kannada scholars, parasites living off government subsidy.
Were the citizenry of this city even asked, what do they like to call their beloved city? If people of Bangalore were so over eager to see their city renamed to it’s prehistoric version, why not conduct a referendum? No, sire. People’s voice never matters in a supposedly democratic country. See, we cannot let the immigrants decide the future of this city. It’s for the locals living in far-flung Mandya, Hassan, Mysore to decide. Karnataka state government, 90% of it’s leaders non-Bangaloreans, will rule what’s right and wrong for the city. Yeah... those 90% who contribute less than 10% to the state exchequer, pay even lesser income tax and all the other blood-sucking taxes the state government keeps heaping on us.
Don’t call me immigrant, you morons. I’ve lived most of my life here. I’ve made good friends here, have lived a good life. Paid taxes and all surcharges promptly, with my sweat, so that the city can develop into something developed and a better place to live. It’s as much my city as yours. My parents may be from Bombay, Madras or Calcutta, and your’s living for generations here. We didn’t just move in to reap the benefits, we’ve made this city. We have contributed a great deal in making this city what it is today. Do you really think Bill Gates or anybody who matters, would’ve bothered to visit a ramshackle mud hutment built by Kempe Gowda? When we’ve given so much to the burgeoning city, don’t we have the right in demanding a fair share?
Till a few days back, I was a - proud - Bangalorean. Not a North Indian, Tamilian, Telugu or a Kannadiga. Just Bangalorean. Now I’ve a new label stuck forcibly on my forehead. Outsider/Immigrant! Who’s the outsider? A person who feels proud of his city? Or a person who feels scared of development, changes, and wants to push the clock back to the dark ages? Why do you parochial pigs like to keep swimming in the swamp of regional chauvinism? Why can’t you get over the atavistic ’local vs. immigrant’ stupor and join us in shedding tears for a city thrown to the dogs. Did the gutters really care who’s local and not, when they flooded us, in not too distant memory? Renaming has made me feel orphaned and left in a lurch. What do you buggers know?
What’s in a name? - Shakespeare so famously had his immortal pair, Romeo and Juliet, quote. There’s a lot in it, Dude would like to counter. It meant a lot to me. A cosmopolitan identity that kept me safe from the spiraling linguicism. A beacon of hope whenever the veteran actor let loose his goons to loot the city. Friends, people and places I’ve known. Pubs I’ve prowled. Jokes shared. It means a lot more to me than the smug ’Bengaluru’ (sic) that reeks of ancient tribalism.
What next? Brigade Road to Kuvempu Marga? Cubbon Park to Annavaru Park? Lal Bagh to Kempe Gowda Bagh? Wipro, Infosys and India Inc. to Kannada Mandali? We’ll keep building the city and you keep renaming it. Fair deal, eh? Cry my beloved city. There’s no one to stand for you. Those who love you daren’t raise their voices, lest they be crushed. Your lovers have surrendered their heart and soul to the marauding mobs of the Terrorist Annavaru. Your torch bearers too wimpish to hit the streets and protest such a blatant insult. Wake up to the Kannada remake of George Orwell’s 1984.