Do you know what Bangalore's biggest problem is? It's the weather. We're spoilt brats. If the thermometer registers a 5 day blip of 2 degrees above normal, we think we're dying. When it rains for 45 minutes instead of 30, we go to pieces over it. When the winter's nice and chill, we cringe at the thought of how hot the summer could be. And then there are those memory trips that everybody goes on in April, the moment the mercury hits 35 degrees for 2 hours: "Nimgenri gothu Bengloor chali bagge! 20 varsha hinde Malleswaradal Shivrathri maLege badlu manju bilthaa ithu gothaa?" ("Whaat all you maadran peepals know I say. 20 years ago, the dosa batter at CTR would freeze saalid before hitting the tava even in midsummer. You fallow?") Has our weather really suffered such a dramatic change over the past 50 years or so?
Thankfully, it hasn't. We have.
Does anybody know which year Bangalore recorded its highest temperature (39 deg)? It was in 1931! While the met department agrees it was probably a freak occurrence, it also says that Bangalore's average summer temperatures have only gone up by a degree or so in the past 30 years. They seem unsure that it's a long lasting phenomenon, or if it is cause for real concern. But while the global picture is definitely cause for worry, can one measly degree cause this kind of mass weather hysteria among Bangaloreans today? I'm sure there's more to it. Here are my theories:
(e) Bangaloreans are incredibly paranoid about the weather. While we love bragging about it and smirking down at the sweltering plains below us, we're also the first to panic when it isn't significantly cooler than the rest of India at any given point of time. We need to be a good 8 degrees below Chennai, for example, to feel completely satisfied. Even the slightest rise in temperature makes us worry about losing our USP, and we hate that.
(n) Bangalore weather is always on the edge. Our clockwork weather pattern is worrisome. The balance between heat and rain is so delicate that we're convinced its going to go awry some day. If it doesn't rain and bring the mercury down exactly when it should, we immediately assume that the end has finally come, and run around in circles, moaning.
(o) We live in matchboxes that don't breathe naturally. The simple beat-the-heat measures like high roofs, red oxide floors, large verandahs and ventillators that our older buildings used, were excellent temperature control mechanisms.
(u) With modern conveniences at our disposal, we are willing to tolerate fewer and fewer weather eccentricities. We'd rather turn on our airconditioners at full blast, or flock into malls and theatres the moment we feel even slightly uncomfortable. We'd probably not feel this bad if we allowed our bodies to adjust to temperature changes gradually like the previous generation did, instead of confusing them by plunging in and out of supercooled zones every few hours.
(g) There's too much weather information going around. Heat related anxiety is particularly prevalent in Bangalore. We worry ourselves sick after reading the weather columns in the papers and watching the rest of the country swelter on tv, instead of facing our relatively milder summers calmly.
But since we are such a bunch of moaners, here are some simple tricks to keep cool for the next few days until the rains come:
(h) Don't forget to drink as much water as you can. Try and get used to drinking room temperature water, to help acclimatize your body to the ambient temperature.
(a) If you live on the top floor, sprinkle a bucket of water on your roof in the mornings and evenings. Makes a dramatic difference.
(l) Wear cotton. We are used to dressing up in Bangalore, because the weather normally allows us to. But for now, put your fancy numbers away. People are too exhausted to notice anyway.
(r) When you wash your face, wet the back of your neck, your ears and your inner arms. Helps you cool down dramatically.
(e) Cut out the sunlight with curtains or chiks (roll-down blinds) during the day. You could wet them too, if your home is sufficiently ventillated. Remember to roll them up at night though, or your rooms will get incredibly stuffy.
(a) Eat simple food. Rice, salads, juices, greens, yoghurt, fruits - you know, that sort of thing.
(d) Look around you and see where you can plant trees. Select spots that are likely to remain undisturbed for the next 30 years. You will never regret the small effort you took now, 10 years later. If you are not upto the task, call these people. They will do it for free.
(y) And most importantly, relax. It isn't so bad. Yet. Old Bangytown's clockwork rain usually kicks around the end of April and brings things back to normal. Until then, drink majjige and stay cool, but also think about what you can do to keep it in good ticking order.
Thankfully, it hasn't. We have.
Does anybody know which year Bangalore recorded its highest temperature (39 deg)? It was in 1931! While the met department agrees it was probably a freak occurrence, it also says that Bangalore's average summer temperatures have only gone up by a degree or so in the past 30 years. They seem unsure that it's a long lasting phenomenon, or if it is cause for real concern. But while the global picture is definitely cause for worry, can one measly degree cause this kind of mass weather hysteria among Bangaloreans today? I'm sure there's more to it. Here are my theories:
(e) Bangaloreans are incredibly paranoid about the weather. While we love bragging about it and smirking down at the sweltering plains below us, we're also the first to panic when it isn't significantly cooler than the rest of India at any given point of time. We need to be a good 8 degrees below Chennai, for example, to feel completely satisfied. Even the slightest rise in temperature makes us worry about losing our USP, and we hate that.
(n) Bangalore weather is always on the edge. Our clockwork weather pattern is worrisome. The balance between heat and rain is so delicate that we're convinced its going to go awry some day. If it doesn't rain and bring the mercury down exactly when it should, we immediately assume that the end has finally come, and run around in circles, moaning.
(o) We live in matchboxes that don't breathe naturally. The simple beat-the-heat measures like high roofs, red oxide floors, large verandahs and ventillators that our older buildings used, were excellent temperature control mechanisms.
(u) With modern conveniences at our disposal, we are willing to tolerate fewer and fewer weather eccentricities. We'd rather turn on our airconditioners at full blast, or flock into malls and theatres the moment we feel even slightly uncomfortable. We'd probably not feel this bad if we allowed our bodies to adjust to temperature changes gradually like the previous generation did, instead of confusing them by plunging in and out of supercooled zones every few hours.
(g) There's too much weather information going around. Heat related anxiety is particularly prevalent in Bangalore. We worry ourselves sick after reading the weather columns in the papers and watching the rest of the country swelter on tv, instead of facing our relatively milder summers calmly.
But since we are such a bunch of moaners, here are some simple tricks to keep cool for the next few days until the rains come:
(h) Don't forget to drink as much water as you can. Try and get used to drinking room temperature water, to help acclimatize your body to the ambient temperature.
(a) If you live on the top floor, sprinkle a bucket of water on your roof in the mornings and evenings. Makes a dramatic difference.
(l) Wear cotton. We are used to dressing up in Bangalore, because the weather normally allows us to. But for now, put your fancy numbers away. People are too exhausted to notice anyway.
(r) When you wash your face, wet the back of your neck, your ears and your inner arms. Helps you cool down dramatically.
(e) Cut out the sunlight with curtains or chiks (roll-down blinds) during the day. You could wet them too, if your home is sufficiently ventillated. Remember to roll them up at night though, or your rooms will get incredibly stuffy.
(a) Eat simple food. Rice, salads, juices, greens, yoghurt, fruits - you know, that sort of thing.
(d) Look around you and see where you can plant trees. Select spots that are likely to remain undisturbed for the next 30 years. You will never regret the small effort you took now, 10 years later. If you are not upto the task, call these people. They will do it for free.
(y) And most importantly, relax. It isn't so bad. Yet. Old Bangytown's clockwork rain usually kicks around the end of April and brings things back to normal. Until then, drink majjige and stay cool, but also think about what you can do to keep it in good ticking order.
