Bangalore’s Hustle, Kashmir’s Heart

Moving to Bangalore for an on-site software engineering role at a high-tech company, after working remotely from Kashmir for two years, has been quite a journey. Let me take you back to July 2024, when everything started. After two years of working remotely with Paytm, a leading fintech company in India, I found myself with multiple offers from top product-based companies for software engineering roles. It was time to decide which one to take, and the more options I had, the more complicated it became. Choosing between Gurgaon and Bangalore was another tough decision. Having studied in North India, I was familiar with the environment there, but Bangalore’s weather was all I had heard about. They say it’s so pleasant that it feels like Kashmir. After discussing with friends, colleagues, family and and the one you turn to with your worries before going to bed, the decision was made — the next destination was going to be Bangalore!

Once I had made up my mind, I had just three days before my flight to Bangalore. I packed my bags, said my goodbyes to my loved ones, and left for the airport. My mom had made some chicken and mutton delicacies for me to carry, but since my dad is very strict about not taking such things while traveling, I couldn’t bring them along. So, apart from my luggage, there was one special thing I carried with me — some handwritten notes from someone who had written them for me before I left for Bangalore. As they say, in a digital world like this, find someone who still takes the time to send you handwritten notes.

Finally, I boarded the flight — a 3.5-hour journey from Srinagar to Bangalore. Sitting next to me was a gentleman who seemed completely uninterested in the people around him, enjoying a South Indian movie without even bothering to use earphones. As for me, I’m one of those who never seem to sleep on planes. I managed to get through the long flight with some soothing Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan ghazals from my top tier playlist. Before I knew it, we were landing at Kempegowda International Airport, Bengaluru.

I was warmly welcomed at the company’s guest house, where I was to stay until I found a cozy place of my own. And so began the great Bangalore flat hunt — a task as frustrating and endless as trying to find a traffic-free road in the city. I started looking around and, to my surprise, got lucky early on. I found a spot in a posh locality — the rent was sky-high (which wasn’t unexpected), but what caught me off guard was the landlord asking for my LinkedIn ID instead of the usual Aadhaar or PAN. Welcome to Bangalore, I thought.

Just when I thought I had a place locked in, the current tenant — the guy I was supposed to replace — decided not to move out after all. So, the hunt continued. After nearly a month of back-and-forth, I finally found a place — ironically, the same one that had fallen through earlier. A beautiful, green apartment in the heart of Indira Nagar. I moved in with a sense of relief, but of course, I had forgotten something important — a comforter. Classic me.

That night, I tried sleeping without one, telling myself I’d buy it first thing in the morning. But at 3:15 AM, I woke up shivering. Sleep was impossible. I grabbed my phone, opened the Blinkit app — the go-to savior for late-night essentials — and spotted a store delivering comforters in under 10 minutes. Half asleep, I placed the order. At 3:30 AM sharp, the doorbell rang. The delivery guy handed me the comforter, and I crashed onto my bed and slept like a king.

Things like this can only happen in cities like Bangalore — where convenience is just a few taps away. Whether it’s groceries, medicines, or late-night snacks, everything is available at your doorstep, often within minutes. It’s a kind of comfort that feels surreal, especially for someone coming from a place like Kashmir, where you need to stock up in advance because stepping out to buy anything at night isn’t really an option.

But like everything else in life, this convenience comes with its own trade-offs. Bangalore, too, has its other side — the infamous villains of the story: its water and traffic. Having had long hair since school, I noticed something odd soon after moving in. Every time I ran my hand through my hair, it felt like it was snowing — white flakes everywhere. Dandruff had arrived uninvited. I rushed to see a dermatologist. With a smile, she asked, “Are you from Kashmir?” I nodded, and she confirmed it — seborrheic dermatitis, likely triggered by Bangalore’s hard water. The result? Frizz, flakes, and a fair bit of hair fall.

Traveling just 4 to 5 kilometers in Bangalore can sometimes feel like a mini-expedition. What should ideally take 10–15 minutes often stretches well beyond that, thanks to the endless queues of traffic. You’ll find office-goers rushing to beat the clock, delivery riders from every quick commerce giant weaving through cars, trying to fullfill the 10-minute delivery promises. The constant honking, the noise, the chaos — it all makes you pause and wonder: is instant delivery truly a necessity, or have we just been sold the illusion of convenience?

Then comes the lifestyle — life in Bangalore is fast-paced, and you’re constantly surrounded by high-achievers working top-tier jobs, often earning jaw-dropping packages. It can get into your head. At times, you can’t help but ask yourself, “Is 30 LPA even enough to live comfortably here?” Maybe it’s ambition, maybe it’s the fear of falling behind — but this environment pushes you, sometimes too hard. Everyone is chasing growth, building their careers, investing, upskilling, switching jobs — it’s a race that never really ends.

In contrast, Kashmir feels like a completely different universe. Sure, it doesn’t offer Blinkit deliveries at 3 a.m. or 24/7 supermarkets. But in Kashmir, if you’re earning a salary north of 1 lakh a month, you feel content. You feel like you’ve made it. Life is slower, commutes are simpler, there’s less noise, and the air — oh, the air — it’s fresh, light, and calming. You don’t feel like you’re constantly competing or falling short. Life unfolds more gently, with fewer complexities. Like I said earlier, every city has two sides — so do Bangalore and Kashmir. You can’t have everything, everywhere. Life is all about making trade-offs. You give up some things to enjoy the beauty of others. But once in a while, when the hustle gets too loud, and you’re tired of Bangalore’s fancy cafes and gourmet food joints, take a break. Head to Shivaji Nagar’s food street. Order yourself a plate of juicy seekh kebabs or a serving of smoky Mandi biryani. For a moment, you’ll feel like you’re walking through the bylanes of Khayam or Munawarabad in Srinagar — and that, right there, is the magic of living between two worlds.

Bangalore did take a toll on a few things that were truly close to my heart — from my hair to the person who once wrote me handwritten notes. But at the same time, it gave me countless memories that I’ll hold on to and cherish for a lifetime.

Faizan Bukhari, software engineer based in Bangaluru