What does a big capital city and a small town-turned-metropolis have in common?

If the cities in question are Beijing and Bangalore, my hometown in the southern part of India, then quite a lot I suppose.

First, both possess a gentle people as well as a genteel culture. Having lived in Bangalore for most of my life, and now on my second stint in Beijing, I can say this with quiet confidence.

Growing up in 1980s Bangalore was the best any kid in India could have asked for — no big-city airs, no high-rises, plenty of parks, tree-filled boulevards, sparse traffic and, best of all, easygoing citizens.

In fact, if someone ever invents a time machine, I would be the first to book myself a seat back to that era, live the same way I did and, like Calvin and Hobbes, spend more of those lazy Sundays doing nothing in particular.

Beijing, as the capital of China and an established industrial powerhouse, may be larger, grander and more historic, certainly.

But, like Bangalore, it has a slower, laconic pace to it that immediately reminds me of my hometown, which used to be fondly referred to as a Pensioner's Paradise before development — that ugly word — mangled the city of its beauty and water bodies, and transformed it into a pothole-riven, mean urban agglomeration of honking cars and angry pedestrians.

In fact, Beijing has not changed all that much since I first came here 14 years ago. It still is home to lovely parks where pensioners stroll about with their grandchildren on a beautiful autumn day or visit the nearby supermarket to purchase household essentials.

In fact, one of the reasons I prefer to shop at the corner store, or the large supermarket is to interact, albeit only through a silent nod or smile, with these old-timers.

They do not seem to be in a hurry to get things done, wait patiently for their turn at the checkout counters or happily land up at the in-store hairdresser's for a haircut that seems to take up most of their mornings.

Why did I say this is a genteel city with a compassionate people? Because they usually have the time and the inclination to help a stranger in a foreign land navigate his daily obstacles.

Whether it is in picking out the right brand of detergent or fixing up a slot at the hairdresser's using a Chinese language app, someone seems ready to pop in and lend a hand.

I have been here for about six months now and have rarely experienced hostility or discouragement from any of its citizens.

This brings me back to the central question — why and how do cities change for the worse? In the case of Bangalore, the culprit is development, often in haphazard ways, and the concurrent uprooting of a settled population employed in traditional industries.

But Beijing shows how this can be achieved without losing the culture and etiquette innate to a place or its civilization — its taxis have become more, not less, friendly; the metro is connected to the furthest regions; the food joints are so plentiful and delicious that an expat — unless he is a strict vegetarian — never runs out of options; the malls are filled with so many goodies that you can fill suitcases full of them for the kids without worrying about missing much; express deliveries to your home are so prompt and streamlined that they reach the door even before you finish ordering online; the city is so safe that you don't have to worry about getting hijacked or worse at 1 pm after a flight back — one could go on and on about Beijing.

This is how China's capital is different from its counterparts in the rest of the world. It is the safest, most friendly and laid-back city to live in, with a good mixture of arts and culture, social life and history thrown into the mix.

Extolling the virtues of Beijing to my wife and kids on a recent trip back home turned out to be an expensive proposition however — now, they all want to experience it for themselves!