For someone who gets lost more as a rule than accidentally, I’m doing quite well. I’m at Bangalore with my in-laws in an apartment called ‘Kilbirnie’, housed inside a never-ending housing park complex, where residents often get lost navigating from one end to another.
Located towards the far end of North Bangalore and close to the Indian Air Force school, the complex is absolutely out-worldly – more like Dexter’s laboratory teeming with people deep in thought or rather devising a solution to navigate their way back to earth.
Reading the names of the apartments makes me feel more at home in the Milky Way. Are these the names of galaxies far far away and waiting to be discovered? Albany and Milford do sound like places that exist in ‘prithvilok’, but what can you make of Picton? Sounds like a planet close to Krypton with loads of virtual pics that make up the atmosphere!
And what about Fairlie? If one were to procure some fairy dust and sprinkle a little before Fairlie, I believe the apartment will transform to reveal its true avatar – a giant fairyland with gnomes, pixies, elfs, and every creature from Enid Blyton’s book of fairies.
Before I lose all hope, there’s Napier, Collingwood and Lumsden to make my day. These apartments stand cuddled together more like a trio of stars in a constellation. Whenever I’m near any one of them, I know my planet ‘Kilbirnie’ is near.
It’s been a good ten days that I’ve been here and I’m still to get a hang of the layout. A 15-minutes walk saw me return only after an hour; an hour which was the most gruelling 60 minutes of my life. The next time around it took me even more to return home!
Nevertheless, I did not give up on hope. The third time I tried remembering numbers of the parking lots nearby and stored it in my navigational brain, confident and relaxed that I would return like a boomerang. But alas!
There are more ways than one to enter a particular apartment here. So parking lot numbers changed depending on which way you left the apartment. The parking lot numbers I browsed through, did not find any matching record in the database I had stored. I knew I needed expert opinion.
So, who else than the security guard stationed at each of the apartments. I said ‘Kill-bir-nie’ and he looked at me as if I were an alien looking for my planet. He said, “Tower number, madam?” I fumbled in my mind. He’s most probably seen this exasperated look before. Smiling, he consulted his fellow expert and together they decoded which apartment I was referring to. Tower 7 it was, near the underground parking exit.
I’m waiting to get back to my good old building in Pune. With a relatable name like Dhanalaxmi Park Housing Society, that sounds so much earthly and my building numbered B4, I’m all sorted out.