Just beyond the garden gates, the city shifts gear — and so do we. We ease into the evening with snacks Bangaloreans have been grabbing on their way home for generations. Pull apart a congress bun — a soft roll hiding a punch of spicy peanuts — and wash it down with fresh avocado or sitaphal juice. Then comes the fryer: bajji in four avatars — pineapple, banana, chilli & potato — crackling hot & impossible to stop at one. Follow it with gossamer-thin dose slicked with butter & a warm holige whose jaggery filling tastes like someone's grandmother made it this morning. Then we head north. Peri peri paneer with a fiery kick, pav bhaji arriving in a cloud of butter & spice — torn, dunked, devoured. A tall jalebi coiled & syrup-soaked, paired with cool rabdi & a soft kesar jamun. A study in contrasts that makes perfect sense. The finale is unhurried. A spongy rasgulla & a stick of kulfi melting faster than you can finish it — a perfect full stop on a sentence the city wrote all evening.