It is now more than two years since we (mom and dad) moved to India and have become and behave like regular Bangaloreans – getting to know the roads and the landmarks (no one uses maps here), counting money in rupees and not automatically translating them into dollars in our minds, going on auto rickshaws (but not yet on buses), eating “panipuri” from roadside food vendors, and bribing public officials for getting work done.  Chandra is even driving his car himself sometimes on Bangalore roads - roads are more like public places where anyone (two-legged or four-legged living beings, tall as in a camel or short as in a dog, big as in an elephant or small as in a cat) or anything that has two wheels, two legs, four wheels, two wheels and two legs, two wheels and four legs, four wheels and two legs, four wheels and eight legs, or any combination thereof can walk, drive, sit, honk, ride, run or be run over in any direction they please.  But, we have not yet ventured cutting into lines (called queues here) at service counters for food, grocery, or even airline tickets.  All these inconveniences and dangers of course matter little when one has the best weather in the world throughout the year in Bengaluru J