Last night, my neighbor’s snores were loud enough to wake the dead. I almost to put on the ceiling fan to drown out the noise,  but as the morning sun warms the wet clay, the near silence of night has given way to din of the day’s activities. Washing, cooking and the feeding babies all contribute to the sonic landscape. My Bangalore is the sound of water sloshing from buckets onto concrete floors, the sweet smell of wet clay and burnt petrol fumes, fried onions and spices.  With the sun overhead, Bangalore is alive,  bodies are everywhere, as are cars and cows, restaurants and shrines.

Having lived here before, albeit briefly, I feel I know what to expect out of this city–crippling traffic, frenetic energy and a friendly, welcoming atmosphere. This time will be different, as I am here to stay. As such, I’m looking at the city with a different set of eyes, though they are cast upon a familiar scene. I’m living in the ultimate Bangalore bachelor pad with Anu, a venture capitalist and Ram, one of my business partners at Ixoraa Media. Our complex has all the amenities, including a swimming pool, tennis courts and a game room with ping pong tables, and billiards.

Just down the road from our apartment are gleaming glass complexes for Microsoft, IBM and Fidelity Investments (though very corporate, the structures would win architecture awards if they were in Sao Paulo). Just across a narrow dirt road is the old Bangalore City Airport (HAL). While I slept off the jet lag and exhaustion of 35 travel hours, two fighter jets used the nearby runway, creating an incredible roar. Already this morning there have been three.

The juxtaposition of the modern and archaic India is everywhere. The office complexes where the work of the world’s most far-reaching is handled, sits on a winding dirt road barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass at the same time. Here and there cows munch on garbage in front of shanties built from discarded wood and lashed-together tarps. The collision between India’s future promise and its present could not be more apparent; modernity has literally been dropped on this city willy-nilly.

The city itself is not very large, but to get from anywhere to anywhere else takes forever. Last summer I lived just a few kilometers away, just off 100 Foot Road. It couldn’t be more than one mile from where I am now, but to drive there–the only way to get anywhere–would take 15 minutes or more. The city was not planned and the dramatic expansion–quadrupling in size over 20 years–has stretched the infrastructure to the breaking point. Although I arrived at the Bangalore International Airport just after 5:30 am, I wasn’t home until 7 because of slow road and thickening traffic as we approached the city center. We’re headed out to run errands now, and I imagine the majority of our time will be spent in traffic. Fortunately, the city has invested heavily in the construction of a mass transit system, but until it comes online in three-to-four more years, its effect on traffic simply makes things worse. Sigh.

I’m looking forward to telecommuting as never before, but I am also looking forward to taking lots of pictures and exploring the city. My buddy, Joe Jackson, said he rented a motor scooter when he lived here, and if it proves to be possible, it should be a great way to get around and learn about the city’s hidden corners. For now, I am concerned with getting settled in and learning more about the job ahead. I should have a phone number by tomorrow, but, as always, you can reach me via any number of social media: Facebook, Gchat, Skype, Twitter and SoSauce, just to name a few.