Chaos & Calm: Living Between Bangalore and Singapore

Two Cities. Two personalities. One very confused frequent flyer.

Somewhere between spotless trains and screaming traffic jams....I've made a home

I live a double life.

Not the scandalous kind — no secret identities, no hidden passports, no rendezvous in dimly lit cafés (though I wouldn’t mind that once in a while). Mine is a far more practical version: a life split between two wildly different cities — Singapore and Bangalore.

One is all order, calm, and quiet efficiency. The other? Colourful chaos wrapped in a traffic jam.

Singapore is the poster child for structure. People queue just because there’s a queue. I’ve seen people join a line without even asking what it’s for- they join it like it’s a team sport! They trust the process. Meanwhile, in Bangalore, a queue is more like a mythical creature. You’ve heard of it, maybe even spotted one in the wild at a passport office, but mostly, you’re just using your elbows, your voice, and your best “just quick one question” face to make your way forward.

And don’t even get me started on the honking.

Singapore is silent. So silent that the rare sound of a car horn can cause genuine alarm. People look up, babies startle, someone files a complaint. In Bangalore, though? Honking is the background music. The moment I step out of the airport, the warm familiar blare of impatient drivers, autos, scooters, and buses hits me like a chaotic welcome hug.

Then there’s the matter of cleanliness. Singapore practically sparkles. Littering here comes with fines that feel personal. I’ve tried pushing boundaries — left things outside my front door, curious to see if someone would take them. Nope. Not once. In fact, a delivery guy once rang the bell to hand over a pen he thought someone had dropped. Try that in Bangalore and the pen would have found a new home and a side hustle.

Let's talk about traffic. In Singapore, if Google Maps says 11 minutes, you’ll reach in exactly 11 minutes — give or take a traffic light or two. In Bangalore, if it says 11 minutes, it means nothing. That’s just the warm-up. You’ll be sitting there long enough to rethink your life decisions, make peace with your past, and maybe pick a new career.

But despite all this — or maybe because of it — I love both cities deeply.

Singapore gives me calm, routine, and a sense of safety that lets me breathe. It’s where I feel productive and put-together. It’s where things work. Bangalore, on the other hand, is where I feel alive. It’s loud and messy and impossible to control — but it has a pulse, a soul, a smell of rain and filter coffee that’s etched into my bones.

And maybe that’s because I’m a bit like both places. I go from Gilmore Girls to gritty documentaries about the Mumbai mafia. My playlist jumps from Coke Studio to Guns N’ Roses without warning. I’m someone who is lighting candles and journaling one day, and the next I’m yelling at traffic while eating Gobi Manchurian in the car. I like control — but I thrive in a little bit of mess.

So yes, I live in contradiction. I’m equal parts neat freak and chaos queen. I need both the clean and the clutter. The silence and the screaming. The queue-following discipline of Singapore and the rule-bending charm of Bangalore.

Living between these two cities is a bit like living inside my own head — unpredictable, contradictory, kind of exhausting, but never ever boring. And in doing so, I’ve found a rhythm that strangely works for me. 

Because the truth is — I need both. One to anchor me. The other to shake me up. One for peace, one for noise. One to keep me grounded. The other to remind me I can fly.