I was so lucky to find a homestay in this quiet green enclave, protected, like the Bangalore Club was, from the chaos and cacophony outside. This neighborhood has a South-of France feel: the tiny balcony outside my room looks out on flat rooftops and blocky white buildings, but it has a flowering vine growing over it, trees in pots, and a miniature marble-topped table. The room is high-ceilinged, with marble floor and dark wood trim, lovely textiles (the owner is a designer) and artwork. An efficient ceiling-fan is enough to cool the room for sleeping. There is a rooftop garden just a floor above, full of potted plants and even a square of grass.
The neighborhood is graced by dozens of small parks protected from development (if not from the dog-owners airing their pets just beneath the "NO DOGS" sign), from pocket-sized to basketball-court-sized, all beautifully planted and shaded by old trees. The houses' pierced stonework, arched window-recesses, decorative grilles, oriels, and spiral stairs redeem the Corbusier-like angles and cubes.
There's almost no traffic, but cars are parked neatly, everywhere. They're not fancy---Hondas prevail---but many are being buffed assiduously by the driver (not the owner, but a servant). Horn-use is forbidden, and it's possible to cross a street leisurely. The cries of peddlers, on bicycles or cycle-rickshaws, echo atmospherically from the streets below, and the day is punctuated by the Sikh prayers sung (and amplified) at a nearby gurdwara. I'll be sorry to leave for bustling Agra tomorrow (before dawn), but happily will return in ten days. Since that time will include two overnight train journeys, I will need the R&R!
The neighborhood is graced by dozens of small parks protected from development (if not from the dog-owners airing their pets just beneath the "NO DOGS" sign), from pocket-sized to basketball-court-sized, all beautifully planted and shaded by old trees. The houses' pierced stonework, arched window-recesses, decorative grilles, oriels, and spiral stairs redeem the Corbusier-like angles and cubes.
There's almost no traffic, but cars are parked neatly, everywhere. They're not fancy---Hondas prevail---but many are being buffed assiduously by the driver (not the owner, but a servant). Horn-use is forbidden, and it's possible to cross a street leisurely. The cries of peddlers, on bicycles or cycle-rickshaws, echo atmospherically from the streets below, and the day is punctuated by the Sikh prayers sung (and amplified) at a nearby gurdwara. I'll be sorry to leave for bustling Agra tomorrow (before dawn), but happily will return in ten days. Since that time will include two overnight train journeys, I will need the R&R!
No comments:
Post a Comment