RCB .... ಎಂದೆಂದಿಗೂ

Cuppu ನಮ್ದಾಯಿತು

ವಿಜಯಲಕ್ಷ್ಮಿ ಒಲಿದಾಯಿತು

ಶಿಳ್ಳೆ ಮೌನವಾಯಿತು

BURNOL ಹಂಚಾಯಿತು

RCB ಹೊಸ ಅಧ್ಯಾಯ ಬರಿದಾಯಿತು

ಬೆಂಬಲಿಗರ ಮನ ಹಗುರಾಯಿತು

ವಿರಾಟನಿಂದ IPL ಧನ್ಯವಾಯಿತು

ವಿಜಯೋತ್ಸವ ಶುರುವಾಯಿತು

#ಈಸಲCupನಮ್ಮದೇ 

Musings, out of context - IV

One Mind - Endless Possibilities

"There's Plenty of Room at the Bottom" - Richard P Feynman

I digress from quirks of Quantum Mechanics and nuances of nanotechnology to contemplate on the vagaries of human mind, to explore zillions of possibilities.

It's essential to stress upon the interests we have, besides our routine. Something which makes us pleasant, delving deep into the subconscious.

Music, poetry, painting, sport - all of these, can heal. It's perfectly fine to experiment, not being restrictive to a particular area. Anything that's not just a monetary endeavour adds tremendous therapeutic value. As humans, as long as we are learning and challenging ourselves, there's no end to experiencing everything that life has to offer. Humans, right from the times of Leornado da Vinci to Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan have been beacons of insight into a multipotentialite Microverse, where it's possible to revel in different realms of excellence.

There's an artform 'avadhāna' where a person is subjected to mutlifold, often multifaceted lines of thoughts. This is enough to prove how the brain can focus on 8, or even 100 things.

No human being would acknowledge that they use all of their abilities. The key is to widen the net, stretch the envelope. Nothing we do goes useless, it's all about contextualizing the acts. The modern adage ought to be "Jack of Many, Master of Some"

At the end, ability without empathy and humility, is bound to be a boat that sinks. So, it doesn't hurt to reminisce the lines from हितोपदेश -

विद्या ददाति विनयं विनयाद्याति पात्रताम् ।

पात्रत्वात् धनमाप्नोति, धनाद्धर्मं ततः सुखम् ॥

[Knowledge makes one humble, humility begets worthiness, worthiness creates wealth and enrichment, enrichment leads to right conduct, and right conduct brings contentment]

ನಿನ್ನ ಕುಣಿತದಿಂದ, ಎಲ್ಲಾ ಚಂದ ಚಂದ

ನೂಪುರ ನಾದದಿ ನಲಿಯುತಿಹೆ

ನಲ್ಮೆಯ ನಲ್ಲೆಯು ನೀನೆನಗೆ

ನೃತ್ಯದಿ ನನ್ನಯ ಕಣ್ಸೆಳೆದೆ

ನಿಲ್ಲದು ನನ್ನಲಿ ಮುಗುಳುನಗೆ

ಮನದಿ ಮಂತ್ರವ ಮೂಡಿಸು ನೀ

ಮರ್ಮವ ಭೇದಿಸು ಧೀಂತಕಿತಾ

ಮಾನಸ ವೇದಿಕೆ ಕಲ್ಪಿಸು ನೀ

ಮಂಥನ ಮಾಡುವ ಝಲ್ಲೆನುತಾ

ನಾನಿದ್ದೀನಿ

ಎಲ್ಲೋ ಒಂದು ಸಣ್ಣ ಆಸೆ.

ಸಮುದ್ರ ತೀರಕ್ಕೆ ಅಥವಾ ನದಿ ದಡಕ್ಕೆ ಹೋಗಿ "ನಾನಿದ್ದೀನಿ" ಎಂದು ಅರಚುವ ಆಶಯ.

ದಟ್ಟ ಕಾಡಿನ ನಡುವೆ ಕೂತು, ಪ್ರಾಣಿ ಪಕ್ಷಿಗಳಿಗೆ "ನೀವಾದರೂ ನನ್ನ ಮರೆಯದಿರಿ 🙏" ಅಂತ ಗೋಗರೆಯುವ ತವಕ.

ಘಟ್ಟದ ಮಡಿಲಿಗೆ ಹೋಗಿ ಚಾರಣ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಾ ಗಿರಿಗಳ ಉತ್ತುಂಗಕ್ಕೆ ಏರಿ ಆಹ್ಲಾದಮಯ ಗಾಳಿಯನ್ನು ಅವಲೋಕಿಸಿ "ದಯಮಾಡಿ ನನ್ನ ಆಲಿಸು" ಅನ್ನುವ ಅಭಿಲಾಷೆ.

ಇಷ್ಟೆಲ್ಲಾ ಸಾಧ್ಯ ಇಲ್ಲ ಅಂದ್ರೆ ಹೋಗಲಿ,

Silk board Junction ಅನ್ನೋ maze ನಲ್ಲಿ ಸಿಳುಕಿರೋ ವೇಳೆ, bumper to bumper traffic ನಡುವೆ, ಒಂದು Metro ರೈಲಿನ ಉದ್ದಳತೆಯಷ್ಟು ದೂರ ಕೇಳಿಸುವ ವಾಹನಗಳ Hornಗಳು ಮಾಡುವ ಕರ್ಕಶ ದನಿಗಳ ಮಧ್ಯೆ, ನನ್ನ ಅಸ್ತಿತ್ವ ಸಾರುತ್ತ "Please don't count me out" ಅಂತ ಸಹಚಾರಿಗಳಿಗೆ ಕೂಗುವ ಖಯಾಲಿ.

ಬಸವನಗುಡಿಯ ಕಡಲೆಕಾಯಿ ಪರಿಷೆಯೋ, ಪೇಟೆ ಬೀದಿಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ನಡೆಯುವ ಧರ್ಮರಾಯನ ಕರಗವೋ, ಅಲ್ಲಿ ನೆರದಿರುವ ಜನಸಮೂಹಕ್ಕೆ "ಯಾರಾದರೂ ನನ್ನ ಗಮನಿಸಿ" ಎಂದು ಹಲವಾರು ಬಾರಿ ಹೇಳಿ ಹಾತೊರೆದು ನನ್ನ ಅರಿವಿಕೆಯನ್ನು ಸಾಬೀತು ಮಾಡುವ ಹಂಬಲ.

Majestic, Marketನಂತಹ ಜನದಟ್ಟಣೆ ಇರೋ ಜಾಗಕ್ಕೆ ಹೋಗಿ ಇಡೀ ನಾಗರೀಕತೆಯನ್ನು ಉದ್ದೇಶಿಸಿ, "ನನ್ನನ್ನೂ ಲೆಕ್ಕಕ್ಕೆ ತೋಗೊಳ್ರಯ್ಯ" ಅಂತ ಬೇಡುತ್ತ ಬೊಬ್ಬೆ ಹೊಡೆಯುವಷ್ಟು ಬಯಕೆ.

5G ವೇಗದಲ್ಲಿ ಚಲಿಸುತ್ತಿರುವ ಪ್ರಪಂಚಕ್ಕೆ, "ನನಗೂ ಸಹ ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಸಮಯ ಕೊಡು" ಎಂದು ಕೋರುವಷ್ಟು ಕಾತುರ.

ಇಂತಿ

(ಅ)ಮಹತ್ವಾಕಾಂಕ್ಷಿ

UNSUBTLE ART OF GIVING A FUCK

You don't need to smile

To say to the world it's fine.

Don't listen to words like:

'That curve sets things right'

Hoping on people online

May not have been the best.

Those who became close

Faded as soon as they came.

Ones there since long

Pushed you into corners.

Out of sight it was, 

Turned out into out of mind.

At least some were honest, 

Accepted priorities changed.

It's for you to realize

Goalposts have indeed moved.

Ones near, not so dear

Took offence to casual words.

Labelled you thankless 

Maybe they were right.

There was no acceptance

Nor recognition of presence.

Those condescending souls

Never saw you as their own.

You need to stand fort

And not let apathy triumph.

They will remember you

Once they need something.

Then they shall forget

Of all things they forgot.

Let this bitter thought

Be nailed into your brain.

Years down the lane

The day you breathe last.

Only that day would matter

Not one you breathed the first.

Once upon a time.....

This is by far the most clichéd beginning to a story. Just like "There once was a king..", "Long long ago.."

 

But it's interesting to note that "You know what?", "What happened was..", "I woke up in a hospital bed", "On the first day of ĀshāDa" - beginnings such as these have found their way into public memory.

Everyone and everything has a story to tell. Long/short, comic/tragic, monotonous/pulsating, bland/eventful - it really doesn't matter, as long as the reader forms a bond with the words.

Grandparents' bedtime stories or those stories from friends which inadvertently creep into a combined study session or the stories from the beloved over latenight phone calls or texts; stories which enlighten or entertain us or the ones which push us towards slumber; stories of travels, or the twists and plots within a book; or the ones enacted with liveliness on stage or the ones narrated with a crisp screenplay on silver screen or those that blend themselves into the notes of melodies to transform into an audiovisual spectacle of a ballad - each of these barges into the creative consience of the audience and rules their imaginary multiverse, sometimes for eternity.

A well written book, a crisply narrated video, a meticulously scripted film/play, an artistically articulated mime show, sometimes even a manic monologue - all of these potentially have tales woven into them. A simple knot of a shoelace or as interwoven as scripts of Christopher Nolan's films; assuring as the harness of a bungee jumping rope or annoying as the entangled wires of earphones - there's variety aplenty.

A linear fairytale brimming of optimism like Cinderalla or a long drawn tragedy like Hamlet, a layered anthology of kings and kingdoms like Kathasirithasagara, the One Thousand and One Nights (aka Arabian Nights) with the accompanying narrative of Scheherazade - each one has an intrigue of its own.

All in all, stories define us, by mirroring who we are, by presenting a periscope to the society around us, by turning into a telescope to explore a distant world. They are capable of teleporting us across space, time and perspectives. Stories transcend every certainty and lead us to a realm of unknown.

Stories aren't just liesure. They're experiences, learnings, warnings which add to our education. They're our collective heritage, to be pondered, discussed, cherished and treasured upon.

Stories are a tradition to be passed on, to be reinvented and retold, across generations and epochs.

Not all of them need the air of finality. The creators' subtlety allows us to understand, and form our own conclusions. To resonate better with this, we have writings of Tagore, Ruskin Bond, and Saki; or a film like ಉಳಿದವರು ಕಂಡಂತೆ (Ulidavaru Kandante) [As seen by the rest].

For the rest, there's always "They lived happily ever after".

Stuff, dreams are made of - I

Guests at the back-end

Up from a staggered sleep, early on a summer morning, as dawn descended to the melodious chants of little winged inhabitants of the Earth interspersed with grunts of the first vehicles on road, I couldn't help but recollect the past few minutes of an encounter in the course of a dream.

You know, one of those functions when loads of people stay for days together. On the final day, once the dust settles, as the hosts retire to their homes, some close guests, mostly extended family or first circle of friends, accompany the hosts to help them out, or to have a relaxed talk, before they bid goodbye.

At night, everyone has their dinner, sharing the food from the afternoon, at convenience. These folks aren't actually hungry but there's a palpable camaraderie all around, as the regular dishes are savoured with as much joy as the delicacies of the day. Unlike in the actual event, everyone including the matriarch among the hosts, sits together for a finale of sorts.

Fading into oblivion, are some people too inconspicuous in their absence, to be offered a seat at the table. They don't, and in most cases, can't forcibly assert themselves, and claim their share of the pie. These may be the oft neglected non-earning members of the families or the long serving domestic helps who, given a more considerate, heart-in-the-right-place and progressive environment, would have been considered an integral part of the family. They are too shy and embarrassed to ask for food.

I dreamed of myself as one such person, and it wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the universe. The bitter emotion of feeling left out has no parallels.

This is probably how the reserve players who went gameless in a huge victorious touring squad; or the 'behind the sets' technicians or uncredited extras of a successful blockbuster, or the ghost writers of a popular show or the contract employees working for a highly profitable project, feel like - thankless and forgotten in the din of multitude. They chug along, like the thousands of bolts and nuts in the wheels of a chariot at a fair followed and revered by millions of believers, with a sense of gratitude, helplessness, and anticipation.

Last Poem

Why should I write?

For there's no one to read

All the space around

Is taken up by the popular

I stay for now a misfit

'cause there's nowhere to go

What do I do here?

Neither numbers nor men

Everyone talks big

Sermons - left, right n centre

None to understand

None to delve deep enough

They see me jealous

Negative, sick and complaining

I hold no talents

Nor poise, patience and class

Agreed I'm flawed

Just a cribby lesser mortal

ಮಹಾಬದಲಾವಣೆಯಾದಾಗ

ಮಾತು ಪಲ್ಲವಿಯಾದರೆ ಮೌನ ಚರಣವೆನಿಸಿತು

ಬೇಡವೆಂಬುದೆಲ್ಲವು ಬೇಕು ಎನಿಸತೊಡಗಿತು

ದೂರದಿಂದ ಸಾಮಿಪ್ಯವು ಇಷ್ಟಕಾಮ್ಯವೆನಿಸಿತು

ಬಾಳ ದಿನಚರಿಯಲಿ ಹೊಸಪುಟವು ಸೃಷ್ಟಿ ಆಯಿತು

ಸುಪ್ತಮನದ ಆಳದಿ ಸಪ್ತವರ್ಣ ಮೂಡಿತು

ಹೊಸ್ತಿಲಲ್ಲಿ ಕಾಯುತ ಮಧುರದನಿಯು ಕರೆಯಿತು

ಮರುಭೂಮಿಯ ಮಡಿಲಲಿ ಒಲವ ಪುಷ್ಪವರಳಿತು

ಸಂಪೂರ್ಣತೆ ಹುಡುಕುತ ಬಾನು ರಂಗನೇರಿತು

ನೆನಪಿನ ದೋಣಿಯಲಿ

ಗೆಳತಿಯೊಬ್ಬಳು WhatsApp ನಲ್ಲಿ ತನ್ನ ಕರಾವಳಿ ಪ್ರವಾಸದ ಚಿತ್ರಗಳು ಹಂಚಿಕೊಂಡಾಗ ಚಿಕ್ಕಂದಿನ ದಿನಗಳು, ನೆನಪುಗಳು ಮರುಕಳಿಸಿದವು.

ಕಳೆದದ್ದು ಕೆಲ ತಿಂಗಳುಗಳಷ್ಟೇ. ಅನುಭವಗಳು ಅನನ್ಯ, ಅಗಣನೀಯ, ಅವಿಸ್ಮರಣೀಯ

ಉಡುಪಿ - ನಾ ಕಂಡ ಚೊಕ್ಕ ಊರು:

ಮೋಹನ ಮುರಳಿಯ ಮಾಧುರ್ಯಕ್ಕೆ ಮನಸೋತು ಆಚಾರ್ಯ ಮಧ್ವರು ಮುರಾರಿ ಮಾಧವನ ಸ್ಥಾಪಿಸಿದ ಮಹಾಪುಣ್ಯಭರಿತ ನಗರಿ

ಕನಕರ ಕರೆಗೆ ಓಗೊಟ್ಟು ಕೃಷ್ಣನು ಕಿಂಡಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಕಂಡ ಅಚ್ಚರಿಯ ಪ್ರತೀಕ

ಗೀತೆಯ ಸಾರವ ಭವನದಿ ಭದ್ರಪಡಿಸಿ ಗೀತಾಮೃತವ ಹಂಚುವ ಯೋಚನೆ, ವಾಸ್ತುಶಿಲ್ಪ

ಮಲ್ಪೆಯ ಮುದ, ಮರವಂತೆಯ ಮಾಯೆ, ಕಾಪುವಿನ ಕಡಲದೀಪದ ಕರಾಮತ್ತು, St Mary's ಎಂಬ ಕಲ್ಲುಬಂಡೆಯ ದ್ವೀಪದ ನಗರಿ, ಕರಾವಳಿಯ ಬೆವರಿಳಿಸುವ ಹವೆ

ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿನ ಉಯ್ಯಾಲೆಯನ್ನು ಮನೆ owner ಮಕ್ಕಳು - ಆತ್ಮೀಯ ಅಕ್ಕ ಅಣ್ಣ ಜೀಕಿದ್ದು, ಮನೆಯಂಗಳದ ತೋಟದಲ್ಲಿ ಅಣಬೆಯ ಬೆಳವಣಿಗೆ ಕಂಡದ್ದು, ಹಾವುಗಳ ಉಭಯಕುಶಲೋಪರಿ ಭೇಟಿಗಳು. 

ತಾತನ ಜೊತೆ ಕೃಷ್ಣ ಮಾಮಿ ದೇಗುಲಕ್ಕೆ ಹೋಗಿ,

ಬರುವಾಗ chocolate ಗೋಸ್ಕರ ಹಠ ಮಾಡಿ, ಜಟಿ-ಜಟಿ ಮಳೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಸಿಕ್ಕಿಹಾಕಿಕೊಂಡು ತಡವಾದಾಗ, ಕಳೆದು ಹೋದೆವೆಂದು ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಆತಂಕ, ನಂತರ ಇಬ್ಬರೂ ಭದ್ರವಾಗಿ ಸೇರಿದ್ದು

ಅಪ್ಪ office ಗೆ ಹೋದಮೇಲೆ ಅಮ್ಮನ ಒತ್ತಾಯಕ್ಕೆ ಹಸಿರು ಬಣ್ಣದ Sketch pen ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಬರೆದು ಕಲಿತ ಕನ್ನಡ-ದೇವನಾಗರಿ ಅಕ್ಷರಗಳು 

ಅಂಬಲಪಾಡಿ ಭೇಟಿ ಕೊಟ್ಟು ಹೊಸ ಸ್ನೇಹಿತರ ಪಡೆದದ್ದು, ಇಂದ್ರಾಳಿಗೆ ಹೋಗುವಾಗ scooter ಅಪ್ಪಳಿಸಿ ಆದ ಮೊದಲ ರಸ್ತೆ ಅಪಘಾತ

Diana, Woodlands ಹೋಟೆಲಿನ ಗಡ್ಬಡ್, ಗೋಳಿ ಬಜೆ ತಿಂದದ್ದು, Dianora box ಟಿವಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಮೊದಮೊದಲು Aahat, Zee Horror Show ವೀಕ್ಷಿಸಿದ್ದು. ಇನ್ನಷ್ಟು ಕಥೆಗಳು, ಉಪಕಥೆಗಳು!

ಮೂರಕ್ಷರದ ಊರಿನ ಪಟಗಳು ಬಾಲ್ಯದ ಪುಟಗಳ ಮೆಲುಕಿದವು

Promises for forever

Hey Daring, Dazzling Damsel, one for you:

I may not be a knight in a flashy shining armour

Weakness for you doesn't strip me of any valour

Strength to see you eye to eye, I'd have to garner

With unwavering support, you push me to a corner

To life, you've brought peace, joy and splendour

And rekindled my spirit with renewed vigour

In every ebb and flow, I shall be your succour

Being able to explore you is truly an honour

ಎಚ್ಚರವಾದಾಗ

Christmas ರಜೆಗೆ ಇನ್ನೇನು 2-3 ದಿನ ಇದೆ ಅನ್ನುವಾಗಲೇ ಚಿಕ್ಕಮ್ಮನ ತವರಿಗೆ ಹೋಗೋಕೆ ಭಾರೀ ಸಿದ್ಧತೆಯೇ ನಡೆದಿತ್ತು. ರಾಜಹಂಸ ಬಸ್ಸನ್ನೆರಿ ಹೊರಟೆವು. ಮಧ್ಯಾಹ್ನ ಹತ್ತಿದರೆ ತಲುಪಿದ್ದು ಕತ್ತಲು ಆದಮೇಲೆ. ಎಲ್ಲರಿಗೂ ಆಯಾಸವಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಊಟಮುಗಿಸಿ ಮಲಗಿದೆವು.

ಬೆಳಗ್ಗೆ ಎದ್ದರೆ ಹಲ್ಲುಜ್ಜುವ ವೇಳೆಗೆ ಅಪ್ಪಮ್ಮಜ್ಜಿ (ಚಿಕ್ಕಮ್ಮನ ತಾಯಿ) ಘಮಘಮಿಸುವ ಬಿಸಿಬಿಸಿ ಕಾಫೀ ನಮಗಾಗಿ ಮಾಡಿದ್ದರು. ಹೇಳಿ ಕೇಳಿ ಮಲೆನಾಡಿನ ಹೊಸ್ತಿಲು, ಕಾಫಿಯ ಸ್ವಾದಕ್ಕೆ ಯಾವ ಕೊರತೆ?

ಒಮ್ಮೆಲೆ ಸವಿಯುತ್ತಾ ಹಿತ್ತಲಿಗೆ ಹೋದರೆ,

ಇನ್ನೇನು ಆಗಷ್ಟೇ ಸೂರ್ಯೋದಯವಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಮುಸುಕು ತೆರೆದ ಹವೆ, ಮುಂಜಾವಿನ ಬೆಳಕು, 

ಪ್ರಥಮ ಉಷಾಕಿರಣದ ಜೊತೆ ಆಗಸವನ್ನು ಸಿಂಗರಿಸಿದ ಜೋಡಿ ಕಾಮನಬಿಲ್ಲು. ನೋಡಲು ಎರಡು ಕಣ್ಣು ಸಾಲದು. ಈ ಸೊಬಗನ್ನು ಸೆರೆಹಿಡಿದು ಗೆಳೆಯರೆಲ್ಲರೊಡನೆ ಹಂಚಿಕೊಳ್ಳುವ ಆಸೆ. ಒಳಗಿಟ್ಟಿದ್ದ phone ತರಲು ಹೋದೆ. ನನ್ನೊಡನೆ ಮನೆಯವರೆಲ್ಲರೂ ಬಂದರು.

ಛೇ! ಹೊರಗೆ ಬಂದು ನೋಡಿದರೆ ಸತ್ವಹೀನ ಕೃತಕ ಹಣ್ಣಿನ ರಸದoತೆ ಆ ದೃಶ್ಯ ನೀರಸವಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಕಾಮನಬಿಲ್ಲು ಮಾಯವಾಗಿತ್ತು, ನೀಲಿ ಆಕಾಶವು ದೂರದ ಕಾರ್ಖಾನೆಯ ಹೊಗೆಯಿಂದ ಬೂದಿಮಯವಾಗಿತ್ತು.

ಹೀಗೆ ಮನಸಿಗೆ ಬೇಜಾರು ಆಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದಂತೆ, ಕೊಂಚ ಮೈ ಮುರಿದರೆ ಹಾಸಿಗೆಯಲ್ಲೇ ಎಚ್ಚರವಾಗುವುದೇ? 

ಅಬ್ಬಾ ಎಂಥಾ ಕನಸು! ಮುಂದೇನು ಆಗುತ್ತಿತ್ತೋ ಏನೋ? 🤦🏾‍♂️

ಮಳೆ ಬಂತು, ಮರಳಿ ಬಂದಳು ನನ್ನವಳು

ಭೂಮಿ ಬರಿದಾಗಿತ್ತು

ಬೆನ್ಬಿಡದ ಬಿಸಿಲು ಆವರಿಸಿತ್ತು

ಉಷ್ಣಾಂಶ ಏರಿತ್ತು, ಮೈಯೆಲ್ಲ ಬೆವರಿತ್ತು

ಎಷ್ಟು ನೀರು ಕುಡಿದರು ತೀರದ ದಾಹ 

ಏನೋ ಒಂತರಾ ವಿರಹ

ಸುತ್ತಲೂ ಸಡಗರ, ಆದರೆ

ಆಕೆಯಿಲ್ಲದೆ ಎಲ್ಲವೂ

ಅಪ್ರಸ್ತುತವೆನಿಸಿತ್ತು.

ದಯಮಾಡಿತಿಂದು ಬೇಸಿಗೆಮಳೆ

ಎಲೆ - ಹೂವ - ಹಣ್ಣುಗಳೆಲ್ಲವ

ತುಂತುರು ಹನಿಗಳು ಚುಂಬಿಸಿವೆ

ಮನವೂ ಹುರಿದುಂಬಿದೆ

ಕಾಕತಾಳೀಯವೋ ಏನೋ

ಮೊದಲ ಮಳೆಯಲಿ ಮಿಂದ

ಮಣ್ಣಿನ ಪರಿಮಳದಂತೆ

ಹಿಂತುರಿಗಿದಳು ಆಕೆ (ನನ್ನವಳು)

೨೦೨೦ - ನಿನಗಾಗಿ ಕಾದಿರುವೆ

ಹೇ ದಶಮಾನದ ಹೊಸ ಸಾಲೇ,

ಕನಸಿನೂರಿಗೆ ರೂವಾರಿ ಆಗುವೆಯಾ? 

ಆಶಾದೀಪ ಹೊತ್ತ ಪ್ರಣತಿಯಾಗುವೆಯಾ?

ಉಷಃಕಾಲದ ಹೊಂಗಿರಣದಂತೆ ಆಗುವೆಯಾ?

ಅಸ್ತಮಾನದೊಳು ನವೋದಯವಾಗುವೆಯಾ?

ದಾರಿ ತಪ್ಪಿದರೆ ಧ್ರುವತಾರೆ ಆಗುವೆಯಾ?

ದಿಕ್ಸೂಚಿಯಂತೆ ಮುನ್ನಡೆಸತೊಡಗುವೆಯಾ?

ಕಡಲತೀರದಿ ಹೊಸದಿಗಂತವಾಗುವೆಯಾ?

ಬಾಳಪಥದಿ ಸಹಯಾತ್ರಿಯಾಗುವೆಯಾ?

ಎಲ್ಲವೂ ಅಗೋಚರವಾಗಿಹುದು, ಹಲವಾರು ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳು:

ಸವಿಭಾವದ ಸಹಗಮನಕೆ ಸೋಪಾನವೇ?

ಸಂಪ್ರೀತಿಯ ಸಲ್ಲಾಪದ ಸೆಳೆತವೇ?

ಆನಂದವ ಆಸ್ವಾದಿಸುವ ಆಮಂತ್ರಣವೇ?

ಆಹ್ಲಾದಕರ ಆಂತರ್ಯಕೆ ಆಕ್ರಮಣವೇ?

ಔಷಧಿಯೇ, ಔಚಿತ್ಯದ ಔದಾರ್ಯವೇ?

ಔಪಚಾರಿಕತೆಯಂಬ ಔನ್ನತ್ಯದ ಔತಣವೇ?

Musings, out of context - III

Once in a while, we wake up wearily, and worry out of wariness, whether the world within us has withered away under a window of wizardry, or warped into a wonderland.

An effort at enlightening everybody on the eternal enigma:

Full Stop?

An assembly of aspirations and aberrations

Age accustomed to adsorb and annul all alone

Allowing annihilation aplenty; away and afar

Breathing beyond boredom, barely being banished

Bystanders moved on, bearing no testimony

Burrowed to break the back of a banal bubble

Creeping and climbing, with callous chaos

Chateaux of calm, a crafty connoisseur

Carving clichés and uncovering cocoons

Daunted by dawn or dusk? - I doubt

Deeds dimmed all the dreary dialogue

Dumbfounded, deceived and damned, was I

Eerie euphoria, earthly epochal emancipation

Epilogue-like it echoed, enervating with ebbs and flows

Elusive as ever, eking out ephemeral existence

Finished, fallen, furthering futility of failure

Facing the facets of foes and flatterers

Finally, was it a full stop or first blood?

Ayyoh 🤦🏾‍♂

2 syllables I screamed in agony

Revealing my origins, like nothing else could

Adding spice was the tint of Melanin

Determined to define and demean me

Scorching summers were spent

Munching mango and lemon pickles

Preparations and drying

Of Pappadams and the like

Of ghee soaked Mysurpaks

And Pullareddy paper sweets

Of milky Kovas from Srivilliputhur

Or the flour laden Kundas

Devotion has its way and say

In camphor smeared Tirupathi laddus

In the sticky Aravana from Sabarimala hills

Where faith interspersed with cuisine

Morning ears attuned to Suprabhatham

Rendered mellifluously, unfailingly

By the revered M S Subbulakshmi

At the peak of her vocal powers

Ramanavami concerts at Fort High School

Or the kutcheri filled Margazhi Decembers

Or Yakshagana prasangas extending into dawn

Or the chariot thronging streets at the fairs

The cities named, nicknamed and renamed

After queens, beans, demons and Gods

Stemming from tiny words like Rajamahendravaram

Or adorned with pleasing qualifiers like "Singaara"

Warmth and relief in the facade

And shade of coconut palms

Not so benign, challenging trails

In lush greenery of the Ghats and valleys

Soothing solace, I find

In tiled roofs and red-oxide floors

Might as well gasp in awe

Of the lengthy temple corridors

Some of these are memories

Some, goals to look forward to

All I can do, is mince and wince

Uttering, as I sigh, AYYOH!

Questions, deep within

How do we manage to trust some unlikeliest people with our most brittle secrets and darkest fears?
Why do we become a party to someone else's insecurities?
Do we, by becoming mute witnesses to stories someone shares, become a part of those stories?
Does being a confidante to someone special, mean that narrowest crevices of our minds are stuffed with a far greater amount of information, which we are seldom able to process?
Why is it that more than the regular folks in our lives, it's the chatter we have with strangers, that creates such a flutter, wreaking havoc in our minds, which on most days, are an epitome of all the calmness, the world has to offer?
At what point do we make peace with silence that precedes the key decisions?
Why do we get fascinated when someone, with all the passion in the world, narrates their dreams and makes us wish we become an accomplice to their aspirations?

Sometimes we need to dig deep, either to find life sustaining water or life altering glittering Gold. If only it's all worth the effort!

Dream On!

A tinge of purple sprayed amidst clear skies:
kind of stuff Midsummer day dreams are made of.
Good omens through unending hours of darkness, it seemed
Reiterating that, every blessing needs to be counted

Seems trivial right?
They say good things happen at least expected times.
Being haunted by nightmares for a while, forget good stuff, I couldn't even dare to have neutral thoughts in my dreams.
Lazing around at odd times, thanks to a mundane and random sleep pattern, with nothing but boredom and solitude for company, I had an unexpected intruder to my siesta.
There I was, on the terrace back home, soaking in the violet/purple sprayed around in between all the whites and blues of the skies. It exuded a sense of calmness, in total contrast to the previously prevalent chaos. It was a pleasant surprise, indeed.

I know I digress, but let me evoke the most hopeful of vibes: Even the darkest of the clouds have a silver lining, you just need to give dreams a chance :)

Tipping Point: Real to Virtual

"### friends on Facebook, ### Twitter followers, ### Instagram followers, ### LinkedIn contacts, but none to tend to at the hospital, while he/she lay unconscious in the ICU"

One can see thousands of similar sentiments echoed by people, ironically shared on social media.

It's high time people stop assuming moral high ground to slut shame the ones who strive to make friends in the virtual world.

There's no denying the importance of relationships in the real world. But, what the self-acclaimed social crusaders fail to notice is, a person who's surrounded by well-wishers and true friends, doesn't need to look elsewhere to forge relationships. The people who make such reckless remarks have zero empathy for others.

The truth could well be that the person is surrounded by shitty, ungrateful people who the person doesn't resonate with. He/she may be subject to discrimination on the grounds of age, physical appearance or even food habits. He/she may not satisfy the norms of socializability set by the majority. Continuously falling short of societal expectations could force one to connect to people beyond their immediate vicinity. Add to that the sheer curiosity to meet and know new people, in the everlasting hope of finding those that make life a tad easier.

So, next time you click that share/retweet/up-vote button to spread such thoughts, take a moment to realize that each person is fighting his/her own damn battles, and learn to respect individual choices.

Cheers :)

In Memorium: Decoding the distant, deep dilemmas

Moments with you, my muse,
were mementos to marvel, mesmerized.
Your murmurs magically mimicked
the mimes and melodies of Margazhi.

A pale parody of Paradise, or a paradox?
It’s all a part and parcel
of plans of someone powerful and potent.
Primed with purpose, a panacea

Revel, reverberate and resonate, did you
Ringing in riveting ripostes
on a rebellious rampage. No respite for me
have to rein in and redeem, with reverence.

Sans you, even a sumptuous spread
shows similarities to a salt less snack
like the silence of strings or satire that's not sharp
Stings me sore, shoving me to abyss
Soaking in it all, seems so surreal
Surely salvages something; satisfaction and solidarity.