January 27, 2025
Finding Peace in the Chaos
While our fellow GCILers were closing their weekend off near the ocean, three of us decided to take a different route and stay back in Bengaluru. With our laid-back start to the day, we had a great brunch at The Green Door Coffee House, a tiny gem tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. Located on the third floor of what appears to be a tailor shop, the coffee shop can only accommodate three small parties at a time. We were the second to arrive, and while waiting for our food and drinks, we played two rounds of Mikado. Not to brag, but I won them both. Not long after we arrived, a man, likely Canadian, based on the conversations we overheard, quickly made use of the complimentary WIFI and hopped onto a call. He spoke so loudly that we couldn’t help but overhear a remark he made to the person on the other end. He said, and I quote, “All the non-Indian people have convalesced in this little coffee shop.” It was a simple observation that many of us make here. We point out all the non-Indians we see, and for me, it’s comforting to know that we’re not the only ones here experiencing a new culture so different from our own.
However, the feeling of being an outsider was amplified as we arrived at Lalbagh Botanical Garden. For the past ten days, Lalbagh has been hosting the Republic Flower Show, an event held twice yearly, in the Summer and Winter, since 1912. The show serves as a testament to the city’s rich horticultural history and showcases an impressive array of sculptures entirely made of blossoms. Google describes the show as a sensory experience. Saying that the vivid colors, sweet fragrances, and buzz of visitors make it a lively yet peaceful, place to spend the day It sure was a sensory experience, I’ll tell you that.
The Glass House in the middle of the garden is the star attraction for the show, housing the most intricate sculptures they have with respect to the theme; this year, it was “Colors of India.” The moment we joined the queue to enter, we were swallowed by the crowd, jostled by the flow of people. Unlike my previous visit, where I could walk freely and see far ahead, all I could see now were the back of people’s heads and the ceiling above me. Last time, I was amazed at how the city noise seemed to fade away upon hitting the garden’s gates, but today, the outside noise seeped into the garden, today, it was a cacophony of whistling security guards, the sounds of conversations, and the laughter of visitors. What should have been a peaceful visit quickly became overwhelming.
At one point, we found a rather quiet spot in the shade to sit, hoping to relax and read our tool books. But, unlike the relaxing summer days in Seattle, where you could lay back and bask in the sun for hours, I felt rather self-conscious from all the curious stares. It wasn’t the first time a group of us was on the receiving end of this attention, and I know it won’t be the last. But today, my experience at the Flower Show was so different from similar events back home. It served as a reminder that, no matter how comfortable I might get over time in this city, there will always be subtle differences that remind me that I am still a foreigner here.
However, despite some discomfort, I had a moment of realization while being shoved in the Glass House that I just need to learn to go with the flow. To let yourself be pushed and nudged in directions you didn’t anticipate and, eventually, find your way through the crowd. I know that with time, I won’t just be stuck behind a sea of heads. I’ll find my place in this chaos, eventually catching a glimpse of the beauty in the flower sculptures amidst the hectic crowds. Three weeks in and I am still learning to embrace this new place, letting its rhythm become my own. In the end, there’s beauty in both the tranquillity and the chaos.
By,
Amaya