A City That Builds Belonging

The source of Bangalore's strategic advantage

Jun 29, 2025

Image Credit: Priyanka Sacheti

This flash essay is part of a collaborative, constrained-writing challenge undertaken by some members of the Bangalore Substack Writers Group. Each of us examined the concept of ‘BANGALORE’ through our unique perspective, distilled into roughly 500 words. At the bottom of this snippet, you’ll find links to other essays by fellow writers.

What makes some cities thrive more than others?

We often think of infrastructure, governmental incentives, tax breaks, or a favorable business climate. But these can all be replicated.

What’s harder to build, and almost impossible to copy, is something less tangible: the spirit of a place.

Bangalore is one of those rare cities.

I moved here 19 years ago. Today, I call it home. Along the way, I’ve come to understand why Bangalore continues to thrive in a way that’s hard to replicate.

One of the first things that strikes you about Bangalore is how truly cosmopolitan it is. Have you wondered how Bangalore became such a plural society?

Let’s go back in time to understand.

Stone Age artefacts show that people lived here over 6,000 years ago. In the last millennium, Bangalore has seen many rulers—the Cholas, the Hoysalas, the Vijayanagara kings. Each added a layer, but the city’s defining moment came in 1537, when Kempe Gowda I built the mud-brick fort that would become Bengaluru Pete, around modern-day Chikpet and Avenue Road.

Over the next few centuries, Bangalore passed through many hands: the Adil Shahis, the Marathas, the Mughals, the Wodeyars of Mysore, and later Hyder Ali and Tipu Sultan. Each dynasty brought its own people, languages, and customs. What’s unique is, those layers didn’t fight for dominance. They settled side by side. The city didn’t flatten differences; it let them coexist.

When the British arrived in the late 18th century, they built a Cantonment on the other side of town, a parallel city with its roads, churches, and clubs. Two cities. Two ways of life. Growing together.

By the late 19th century, Bengaluru was composed of two cities, with the pete, whose residents were predominantly Kannadigas, and the Cantonment, whose residents were predominantly Tamils and British. The languages on the street, English, Tamil, and Urdu, blended into the city’s Kannada roots.

Bangalore was able to amalgamate all these different cultures into its own.

I live in the newer Bangalore, the Republic of Whitefield. And this pluralism isn’t just history to me, it’s my everyday reality.

I make it a point to speak in Kannada in public spaces. Once, I got into an Uber and casually asked the driver, “Oota aayitha?” (Have you eaten?). We chatted for a bit before I drifted off into my podcast. A few minutes later, his phone rang, and he started speaking in Tamil.

Here we were, two Tamil migrants to Bangalore, speaking with each other in Kannada. That’s the quiet magic of Bangalore.

Image Credit: Tim Mossholder - Unsplash

Cities can build flyovers, smart grids, and skyline views, but it’s rare to find a place that builds belonging. That’s why Bangalore attracts the best of minds from across the country and the world. This culture is the city's sustainable competitive advantage.

Of course, we all complain about the traffic, the waterlogging, the disappearing lakes. But we stay. Because Bangalore lets you show up as you are.

If you’ve lived in Bangalore or found a similar spirit in another city, I’d love to hear your story.

What does it mean for a city to truly welcome you?

Here’s a list of other flash essays by fellow Bangalore Substack writers:

Looking Down over Bengaluru by Vaibhav Gupta, Thorough and Unkempt

Blossom Book House, Bangalore by Rahul Singh, Mehfil

A Walk, A Pause by Mihir Chate, Mihir Chate

Bookless in Bangalore by Vikram Chandrashekar Vikram’s Substack

Bangalore: A personal lore by Siddhesh Raut, Shana, Ded Shana

Bangalore,once by Avinash Shenoy, Off the walls

My love story with Bengaluru by Rakhi Anil

Bangalore Down the lane of History by Aryan Kavan Gowda, Wonderings of a Wanderer