The Day Bangalore Went Silent. I Was There and I Still Cannot Believe How Fast It Happened.

I had been living in Bangalore for three years by the time COVID came.

I loved that city. I really did. It is the kind of place where you can come from anywhere — any state, any language, any background — and still find your people. PGs everywhere, parks everywhere, evening walkers everywhere. It felt alive all the time. That was Bangalore for me.

Then one day something shifted.

I noticed it slowly at first. The streets were a little quieter than usual. The park near my place which always had people jogging and kids playing — fewer people. Then fewer again. Then almost nobody.

School buses disappeared. Office cabs disappeared. Companies sent everyone home to work. I remember thinking this feels strange. I had never seen Bangalore look like this.

Then the masks came. First a few people. Then everyone. A disposable mask that cost 50 rupees became 500 rupees practically overnight. People were buying whatever they could find. Sanitiser bottles were appearing everywhere — office entrances, shop counters, everywhere you looked.

The strangest thing was what happened when someone sneezed or coughed in public. Everyone around them would turn and look. Not rudely. Just nervously. Like they were calculating something. That feeling of being watched every time your throat made a sound — I remember that very clearly.

The news was on all the time. COVID numbers every day. Which state. How many. Which city. The ringtones people set were COVID related. Advertisements were all about handwashing and sanitising. It was everywhere even if the virus itself had not reached everywhere yet. The media made sure COVID was in every room whether you wanted it there or not.

And then the longing started.

When you are alone in a city and suddenly the whole world feels uncertain, the only thing you want is your family. I kept thinking — when will I be able to go home. I couldn't take the being inside anymore. I applied for a day's leave, checked the guidelines, waited for daylight, and quietly made my way back home.

Our company had said seven days quarantine when you come back. I followed it. But just being in the same city as my family felt like enough.

Bangalore had changed completely in just a few weeks. The city I had known for three years — the evening walks, the office cabs, the crowded coffee shops, the parks full of people — all of it just stopped. Like someone pressed pause on the whole city.

I had never seen anything like it before. And I hope I never do again.