The tech-corridor tax

Every techie in Bangalore makes the same trade, usually without noticing. Live near the office and the rent is painful. Move further out and the rent drops, but the commute becomes the cost instead. There is no third option. The jobs sit in a few dense pockets, everyone wants to live beside them, and the roads between are what they are.

The trap is that rent is a number and a commute is not. Rent arrives on the first of the month with a rupee sign on it. The commute takes an hour here, ninety minutes there, and never sends a bill. So people optimise the number they can see and lose on the one they cannot.

Put the commute in rupees

Do this once, honestly. Time the real door-to-desk trip at peak, both directions, on a normal Tuesday. Multiply by ten trips a week. If the cheaper flat costs you eight extra hours a week on the road, say it out loud. Eight hours is the gym, then dinners with friends, then whatever you moved to this city to do.

Then decide what your hour is worth and finish the sum. Sometimes the far flat still wins, especially when a metro station does the hard part of the trip. Often it stops winning the moment you count honestly.

Close is not free either

Living at the tech park gate has its own bill: construction dust, the 6 pm gridlock outside your window, pubs priced for expense accounts. Some of the best value in this city is one neighbourhood sideways. Close enough for the office, far enough that the area has a life of its own.

Before you sign, ask someone who already does the commute you are about to buy. That is half of why the community exists.

The map has never sat on the Marathahalli bridge at 7 pm. Your future neighbours have.