Eeshwar moves to Bangalore.
It had only been five days since Eeshwar moved to Bangalore, yet the silence from his two closest friends, Pavan and Ram, was already starting to gnaw at him. The house felt too quiet, too empty, with only the hum of his laptop and the distant sounds of traffic for company. This was exactly the kind of situation his mother had warned him about before he left Mysore.
“Eeshwar, you’re so quiet, so reserved,” she had said, her voice tinged with the familiar worry that had become a constant companion over the years. “How will you make friends in a new city? How will you ever find a good girl to marry if you don’t talk to people?”
His father had nodded gravely from behind his newspaper. “At twenty-seven, most boys your age are already settled. We’ve been waiting for you to show some interest in meeting girls, but you just bury yourself in your work.”
Eeshwar had brushed off their concerns then, as he always did. But now, sitting alone in his sparsely furnished house in Jayanagar, he wondered if maybe they had a point. He’d always been the type to observe rather than participate, to listen rather than speak. In college, Pavan and Ram had been the ones to pull him out of his shell, to drag him to movies and chai sessions. Without them, he retreated into his comfortable cocoon of solitude.
That Friday evening, the weight of loneliness finally broke through his usual reserve, and he could no longer hold it in.
“I moved here five days ago! Not even one coffee together?” he complained over the phone, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic edge of frustration.
“Sorry, bro,” Pavan laughed, and Eeshwar could hear the warmth that had drawn him to this friendship years ago. “Work’s been absolutely hectic. New project, impossible deadlines. But listen, let’s meet tomorrow. Why don’t you join us at the temple? We volunteer there every Saturday.”
Eeshwar raised an eyebrow, settling back into his desk chair. “Temple? Since when did you two become so religious?”
“It’s not all about religion, really,” Ram chimed in, Eeshwar could tell he was on speaker now. “It’s about the wonderful community. This is at Ragigudda Temple in Jayanagar 9th Block. It’s very peaceful, and the people there are wonderful. Some of us volunteer at the temple to cater to the hundreds of devotees, especially on Saturdays. There are volunteers of all age groups and our age group too. It’s a lot of fun mixed with service. You’ll feel so good after volunteering there. You’ll like it. And who knows, maybe you’ll start volunteering too!”
“Plus,” Pavan added with a mischievous tone, “there are some really nice families there. Your parents would approve.”
Eeshwar groaned. “Not you too. I get enough of that from my mom.”
After a chaotic week of setting up his new home office, unpacking boxes that seemed to multiply overnight, and navigating the maze that was Bangalore traffic, which made Mysore’s roads seem like peaceful country lanes, the idea of peace and familiarity did seem appealing. More than that, the chance to reconnect with his old friends tugged at his heart. These were the only two people who had ever truly understood his quiet nature, who had never pushed him to be someone he wasn’t.
“Okay,” he said finally. “But I’m not promising anything beyond showing up.”
“That’s all we ask, bro. Ten o’clock tomorrow. I’ll text you the location.”