Missed

[She] Do you know < name >?
[He] Yes.
[She] He was in your group, no?
[He] Yes, he was.
[She] He was such a nice chap. I couldn't believe he was so old. Did you know it?
[He] Yes, I knew.
[She] He would talk to you so nicely with his amazing measured and kind voice. He was always sarcastic in a nice way.
[He] Yes, Yes.
[She] He was such a versatile person. He worked in theatre. He directed plays. Then he came and joined the company.
[He] Yes.
[She] It's so pleasant to have a somebody like him in your team. It feels good.
[He] Yes, Yes.
[Awkward silence]
[He] Did he tell you how he got his surname?
[She] No.
[He] It seems it wasn't their original family name. His grandfather ....
[She] Really, I didn't know it.
[He] About his son....
[She] I didn't know about his family life. Nice.
[He] He was a hardcore leftist...
[She] Interesting. He'll be really missed.
[He couldn't imagine whether his stay in the company would have been much more pleasant had he known or at least talked to that person. But he was glad that he once shared a table with him and could listen to all the conversation that took place between that person and other colleagues.]

Self deprecation?

[I overheard this Hindi conversation between Doraemon and some Arab Sultan]

[S] Where are you from?

[D] We are from India. 

[S] India? Never heard that place before. Where is it located?

[D] It's in the east, close to China.

[S] Aha... You are coming from a region close to China!

Good death

Let the hair recede to an extent
that I don't bother styling the rest
Let the teeth decay so numerous
that the brushing becomes a waste

Let the libido laid at rest

that the desire becomes placid

Let the cancer wring my throat

that the food becomes forceful
Let the eyesight diminish so much
that I perceive no beauty
Let the body get paralyzed
that I can't wander in solitude
Let many hopes get dashed
that I don't dare to dream any more
Let I become a complete burden
that near ones eschew my presence
To that state where the line is blurred
between life and death
To that state where the transition so smooth
that it doesn't feel exist
I want to reach before I die

Preemptive tactics

[My daughter and I were at a shop]

[Conversation in Kasaragod Malayalam]

[Daughter]: I want that. [pointing to a chocolate pack]

[I]: No, you had them already. 

[Daughter]: I want that.

[I]: No, no more demands. 

[Daughter]: I want that.

[I]: No, I won't bring you along for shopping anymore. 

[Daughter]: I want that.

[I to the shop keeper]: How much for it?

[Another father-daughter pair were standing next to me]

[Their conversation in Kannada]

[Father]: Do you want that too?

[Daughter]: No. 

[F]: I'll buy it for you. 

[D]: No, I don't want that. 

[me thinking ... Need to employ this]

Aging as it should be

Have I ever felt it or even noticed it
I'm all set to overcome the youth
facing the years never ever flinching

In paternal mode with lowered testosterone
And the westermarck has kicked in
to my amazement  embracing everyone

With a smile on the lips like a blown rose
With the semi-closed eyes saturated in knowledge
the face perceives none of the failings of the youth

the eyeing that corners
the smile that captures
the blankness that deepens
the presence that unsettles
the entity that resides

Skin Surface - ii

Though I'm strongly against beauty pageants, I couldn't help but notice that a Telugu origin girl has won the Miss America title. In my Dravidian beauty scale (of the dark ones), Telugu girls  do stand first. 

Guilt free

[I was walking on the footpath and a guy on a motorcycle stops next to me]

[He]: I'm sorry to disturb you. 

I don't say anything but look at him with squeezed eyes and furrowed brows. 

[He]: Do you speak English?

[I]: Sorry...

[He]: Do you speak English? The way you're looking...

[I]: yeah, yeah

[He]: You see the traffic police caught me and I'd given him all my money. Now I don't have money for petrol and the tank is almost empty. If you can spare some for one litre that would be helpful. 

[I]: I've done my charity. 

Webinglish Rules - i

If a word or phrase is associated with a link  then definite article is omitted. 

Not in my Case

According to this article;
Religious people are less intelligent than atheists (Link h/t Facebook atheist friend)

And the definition of intelligence is;
ability to reason, plan, solve problems, think abstractly, comprehend complex ideas, learn quickly, and learn from experience

Now let me quantify my intelligence level;
ability to reason = 0.99
plan = 0.25
solve problems = 0.35
think abstractly = 0.35
comprehend complex ideas = 0.35 
learn quickly = 0.35
learn from experience =0.01

Average intelligence=0.38 

It appears there is a positive correlation between less intelligence and lower religiosity in my case.

My Grandfather's Wonder Years

Before my memory gets blurred...

"I was 16 or 17 years old and the year was 1943 when I ran away from home. I went to Cannanore(Kannur). I was wandering the streets of the town and came across a handloom building. I was standing in front of it when one of the weavers there asked where I was from. Mangalore, I told him. 

"Did you run away from home"

"No, I came looking for a job. I know weaving."

"Which illam(lineage, literally house)?"

"Anjari"

"Go to that corner cloth shop. The owner also belongs to your illam. Talk to him".

I met that person. He arranged for my stay and found a job for me in one of the handlooms in the town. Later I came to know that Maava (maternal uncle) had started looking for me and somebody from Cannanore informed him that I was working there. He left it at there. 

Few weeks passed and one day I found some kind of training going on in a near by area. I inquired with my benefactor and he told that it was an army recruitment drive and not a place for a person like me and also warned that I shouldn't go there. Of course, I went. I cleared the tests and when they were checking I turned out to be underage. The British Indian army was desperately seeking men as World War II was going on. The officer there added one or two years and said that that wouldn't matter and because of the big built I didn't look so young anyway.

Thus began my life as a soldier. We were given training for few months. I wasn't much of a marksman. However, I did well in other areas. I took to the disciplined life like fish to water. I suppose, I was mortally ashamed of punishment. There used to be an inspection of our sleeping areas after we were called up for the drill. If someone's clothes or bed weren't made up properly then the whole platoon was given punishment. I didn't want punishment. So, I would leave the room after everyone had left ensuring that the people had done their bed and clothes properly. If not, I myself would arrange them neatly. 

Not a crease here or there, that's how I kept my uniform. My dressing was immaculate and my drill was perfect and soon I came to the attention of my superiors. I was selected to participate in the guard of honour for the visiting king George VI or some bigwig. During the practice sessions, one of the officers observed that inner sides of my boots were losing their shine and wearing out. I was told my two side foot knots were brushing against each other because of the flat feet. I was removed from the contingent.

After the training I became army truck driver. Once I was stationed in Rawalpindi. It was winter.  One day we didn't have water for taking bath in our cantonment. I never missed my daily bath till that time and was determined to take bath that day too.  So I went to the river Swan. But I literally froze when I touched the water. I had to accept my defeat and skip my bath.

I never had the courage to fight all alone. But give me a buddy and I would be one of the bravest and ready to fight from the top of the Himalayas. While fighting the war, I was hardly intimidated. The truck would reach its destination unmindful of the happenings in all four directions. A funny thing about war was how disciplined it made men. The training war drills would never go right but during war they would never go wrong! 

I saw most of the action in Burma. In fact, we were fighting against the combined troupe of the Japanese army and Subhash Chandra Bose's INA. We took many Japanese prisoners. They were assigned some jobs during their captivity. Once I was taking the truck in the reverse gear to park. I heard somebody screaming in pain. I was scared that I hit somebody and looked back. I saw few Japanese laughing hysterically. I asked what had happened. One of them pointed to something behind my truck and made a gesture of hanging little finger. I went there and saw that one of the Japanese soldiers' little finger was crushed between the truck and the wall.I was mortified by seeing that. I got him first aid and made sure that he got some rest. 

All this while my folks back home were trying to find me. But I myself wrote a letter about joining the army. They were totally against it and started trying to convince me to leave the army. I wasn't sure. But once the war got over, I asked the officers to relieve me. Since we just got over a war they were lenient with such requests. But one of the officers who had good opinion about me tried to convince me to stay in the army. He even offered the post of Subedar to me. It was a great offer considering that I had completed only fourth standard. But I declined. 

The last month in the army, I gave a rest to my disciplined life and indulged in my favourite hobby, eating. Since I was anyway leaving the army the officers didn't castigate me. By the time I came home my girth had doubled."

ಒಂಟಿತಾನುವಾದಿಯ ಸ್ವಗತ

(Soliloquy of The Solipsist By Syliva Plath

http://allpoetry.com/poem/8498447-Soliloquy_Of_The_Solipsist-by-Sylvia_Plath)

ನಾನು?

ನಾನು  ಒಂಟಿಯಾಗಿ ನಡೆಯಲೆ;

ನಟ್ಟಿರುಳಿನ ಆ ದಾರಿ

ಉರುಳಿಕೊಳ್ಳುವುದು ನನ್ನ ಕಾಲಡಿಯಿಂದ ತೂರಿ;

ಮುಚ್ಚುವಾಗ ನನ್ನ ಕಂಗಳು

ಮರೆಯಾಗುವವು ಕನಸು ಕಾಣುವ ಇವೆಲ್ಲ ಮನೆಗಳು;

ನನ್ನೊಂದು ಸ್ವೈರತೆಯ ತೋಲೆ

ತಿಂಗಳನ ಸುರಕಾಯ ಮಾಡುಗಳ ಮೇಲೆ

ಊರ್ಧ್ವವಾಗಿ ನೇಲುವುದು

ನಾನು

ಮನೆಗಳನು ಮುರುಂಟಿಸುವೆನಲ್ಲಿ

ಮರಗಳು ಕುಬ್ಜವಾಗುವುವು

ದೂರಕೆ ಸರಿಯುತ; ನನ್ನ ದಿಟ್ಟಿಯ ನೊಗವು

ಓಲಾಡಿಸುವುದು ಗೊಂಬೆ-ಮಂದಿಯೆ

ಅವು,  ತಾವು ಕರಗುವ ಅರಿವಿಲ್ಲದೆಯೆ

ನಗುತ್ತವೆ, ಚುಂಬಿಸುತ್ತವೆ, ತೇಲುತ್ತವೆ ಅಮಲಿನಲ್ಲಿ

ಊಹಿಸದೆ ನಾನು ಮಿಟುಕಲು ಬಯಸಿದಲ್ಲಿ

ಸತ್ತು ಹೋಗುತ್ತವೆ ಎಂದು

ನಾನು

ಒಳ್ಳೇ ಖುಷಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಇರುವಾಗ

ಹುಲ್ಲಿಗೆ ಹಸಿರ ಹಚ್ಚುವೆನು

ಬಾನಿಗೆ ನೀಲ ಕಾಣಿಸುವೆನು, ಮತ್ತು ರವಿಗೆ ಹಾಕುವೆನು

ಹೊನ್ನು

ಏನಿದ್ದರೂ, ನನ್ನ ಶೀತಲ ಲಹರಿಯಲ್ಲಿ, ನಾನು ಹಾಡುವೆನು

ದಬ್ಬಾಳಿಕೆಯ ರಾಗ

ಬಹಿಷ್ಕರಿಸಲು ಯಾವುದೇ ಬಣ್ಣವ ಮತ್ತು ನಿಷೇದಿಸಲು ಯಾವುದೇ ಹೂವಾಗ

ಮಲರುವುದ

ನಾನು

ತಿಳಿದಿದ್ದೇನೆ ನೀನು ತೋರುವೆ

ಮಿಂಚುತ ನನ್ನ ಬಳಿಯಲ್ಲಿ,

ಒಪ್ಪಿಕೊಳ್ಳದೆ ಎಂದೂ ನಿನ್ನ ಉದ್ಭವವಾದದ್ದು ನನ್ನ ಮನಸ್ಸಿನಲ್ಲಿ

ವಾದಿಸುವೆ ಭಾವಿಸುತ ನಿನ್ನ

ಅರುಮೆಯ ಉರಿಯೇ ಸಾಕು  ಋಜು ಪಡಿಸಲು ಈ ಅಸ್ಥಿತ್ವವನ್ನ

ಅಂತಿದ್ದರು ಇದು ನಿಜವೆ

ನಿನ್ನೆಲ್ಲ ಅಂದ, ನಿನ್ನೆಲ್ಲ ಜಾಣ್ಯ,  ಉಡುಗೊರೆಯದು, ನನ್ನ ಪ್ರಾಣವೆ,  

ನನ್ನಿಂದ

ತಂದೆಗಳಿಕೆಯ ಹೊಗಳಿಕೆ (In Praise of Self-Deprecation )

http://people.cs.uchicago.edu/~mamiller/docs/poetry/szymborska/in-praise-of-self-deprecation

ಗಿಡುಗ ತನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪಾಯಿತೆಂದು ಹೇಳಬೇಕಾಗಿಲ್ಲ

ಸರಿ ತಪ್ಪುಗಳ ಶಂಕೆ ಚಿರತೆಗೆ ಸಲ್ಲ

ಪಿರಾನ್ಯಗಳು ತಮ್ಮ ಕೆಯ್ಕೆಗಳ ನೆಟ್ಟಗೆಯನ್ನು ನಚ್ಚುವುದಿಲ್ಲ

ಕಂದೋಡಿಗೆ ತನ್ನನ್ನೊಪ್ಪಿಕೊಳ್ಳಲು ಯಾವುದೇ ಮುಲಾಜಿಲ್ಲ

ಆತ್ಮ ವಿಮರ್ಶೆ ಮಾಡುವ ನರಿ ಇಲ್ಲಿಲ್ಲ

ಮಿಡತೆ, ಮೊಸಳೆ, ತ್ರಿಚಿನ, ತೊಣಚೆ

ಬಾಳುವುವು ತಮ್ಮಿಚ್ಚೆಯಂತೆ ಅದೂ ಹಿಗ್ಗಿನಲ್ಲಿ

ಗಾತುಕ ತಿಮಿಂಗಿಲದ ಗುಂಡಿಗೆಯ ತೂಕ ನೂರಾರು ಕಿಲೋಗಳು

ಆದರೆ ಅದು ಜೊಳ್ಳು ಉಳಿದೆಲ್ಲ ದಿಟ್ಟಿಗಳಲ್ಲಿ

ರವಿಯ ಈ ಮೂರನೆ ಗ್ರಹದೊಳು

ತುಮುಲವಿಲ್ಲದ ಒಣರ್ಪಿಗಿಂತ

ಮೃಗನೀಯವಾದದ್ದು ಬೇರಿಲ್ಲ

Battle of the Sexes

There was no mistaking. It was deliberate. Surely, she who all these years draped her sari over her head wouldn't have failed to conceal her cleavage so regularly. Clearly, they need regular customers to their grocery shop. Who else could be more loyal than horny men, he thought.

He could see that the Marwadi shop was struggling. It was all too obvious in their pathetic attempt to start a vegetable section when there was a poor lady selling the vegetables next to their store. No wonder, nobody bought from their store and the section was closed within a week.

He wasn't sure whether the struggle was because of the hypermarkets that were establishing themselves all over the city or competition with other stores in that locality.

He was always biased against these north Indians doing business in Dravidian lands. Until few years back there was a store belonging to a Telugu Setty family opposite to the Marwadi store. Dravidian solidarity saw him buying things from that store only. The constant north Indian refrain about inflexible attitude of south Indian shop keeper when an item was out of stock or wasn't available was found to be true couple of times but that didn't deter him. In fact, at least in one such occasion the Marwadi's empty promise when the Setty flatly said no confirmed how absurd that stereotype was. But one fine day, the Setty family closed their doors and left the place.

He was surprised and wondered whether the dark skinned Dravidians lost the competitive edge to the light skinned Indo-Aryans. That doubt proved unfounded when he learnt that the Setty family was in fact the most successful of all the shop owners in that locality but tried their hand in one too many ventures. The debt grew beyond their control and had to sell off their store to pay off the debtors.

A couple of years ago another Marwadi family took over the Setty store. He, without any clear preference to either of them, started buying things from the older Marwadi store as it was ten steps closer to his house. As time passed he observed that the new Marwadis were darker skinned. Dark skin solidarity took over and he started visiting them more often. Unlike the old Marwadis where all family members worked in the store, only two brothers manned the new store.

Of course, he never really completely stopped visiting the old Marwadi store. In one such occasion, he watched incredulously as the young wife of the store owner conspicuously moved her sari exposing her blouse and chest and looked the other way. Now after few more such incidents he felt that crudeness of the act was probably the result of newness. He wondered whether she was instructed by her husband. Was that an order or just a cry of helplessness?

Revolted, he felt he should be visiting the new Marwadi shop only. Few more visits to the shop, he started observing that the store was generally packed with females unlike the old Marwadi shop. He further observed that the dark skinned brothers were also tall and handsome fellas as compared to the old Marwardis where the only thing going for them was the lighter skin. He also didn't fail to notice that one of the brothers used to flirt with the female customers. Maybe it was called small-talk in other societies but in his world it's just flirting which he would never indulge in.

Few weeks later, the old Marwadi store also pulled its shutters down permanently and the family left the locality. He wondered whether it was because females outnumbered males among shop goers or men were no longer desperate as cleavage was becoming ubiquitous thus making sweet tongue stronger than cleavage.

Oglers' Point

[At a supermarket in Hyderabad. A man with his trolley was standing with his face turned left towards the fruit stall and scratching his nose]
[She  in a irritated voice] : Why don't you just move here instead of staring at her?
[He taken aback] : Who..who...who...who...

... Stereotype

[On board of a bus travelling to Hyderabad from Bengaluru. The person sitting next to me strikes up a conversation.]
:
[He] I don't know why, but so many people have mistaken me for a Brahmin.
[I smile but don't say anything]
[He] It has happened many a time. They say, I look like a Brahmin.
[I just nod my head]
[He] I mean I'm a Hyderabadi Muslim and I wonder how people can take me for a Brahmin.
:

Skin Surface

I suppose as many families in Davidian lands have multi-colour members, an exclusive dark skin identity is difficult to form. In a shallower level, it's also difficult to form a Dravidian sense of beauty. I'm trying to do just that. Of course, it's difficult to form a beauty idea based on the skull shape, so, I'm just listing, what, in my opinion, are dark and good looking from different Indian groups, even though some of them may not be linguistically Dravidian or have Indian nationality. Here comes my list:

Female:
1. Telugu
2. Bengali
Honourable mention : Malayali

Male:
1. Sinhala
2. Tamil

A Known Unknown

I knew him for over a decade now as we joined the company just few months apart. But apart from occasional smile, reciprocated or otherwise, we hardly communicated.He appeared to be a reticent person and I don't know how I came across. So it was a surprise when he joined me in my customary solitary lunch. Did he discover suddenly something in common as both of us ordered the chicken biryani?

We confirmed our respective departments. We understood our immediate organizational structure. All the while I kept on wondering if there was a reason for him to strike a conversation with me. Then we moved on to the recent organizational changes in my group. Because of it, one of our colleagues, who also joined along with us, was no longer with the company. He asked me whether he was laid off. I didn't have a definite information on that and so I was uncomfortable answering that. I gave some kind of ambiguous answer. Then he talked about our another colleague who I knew no longer with the company. He told he was laid off. I asked him whether he found a new job. He was not sure. Losing the job at this age and that too in our field was tough he said. I agreed. Could be for managers and not for regular employees, I tried to bring some hope. Could be he said but didn't sound convinced.

By this time I had finished eating. He looked at my plate and said apologetically that he was a slow eater. "Take your own time", I said. I hadn't used that familiar line for a long time now. I observed that he had finished off his chicken pieces and having only the rice now. I thought that was a strange way of eating as I would have made sure to finish off the last morsel of the rice and the chicken together. So, I was expecting him to leave some portion of the rice over in the plate but he continued eating and finished it off as well. Then we departed with a not so common "nice talking to you" line. I don't believe it's going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Conscious Eater

I never sought to enjoy my food alone but that's how I eat my lunch at the food court. When I started my career, I too was part of a group. We drew the tables together or adjusted ourselves around a small table. As years passed the married ones started bringing their own lunch boxes. These lunch boxers formed their own group with like minded colleagues. They stopped coming down to the food court and instead started having their lunch in the office cafeteria itself.

As it turned out I prefer to be alone in a group rather than alone by being alone. Maybe I would be alone with strangers around me than with familiar faces. I sit alone at the table with other three chairs getting wasted and eat, trying to avoid any eye contact with the people sitting in groups next to me. Eating alone has made me conscious about the etiquette of it. I would start thinking whether I have closed the mouth or chewing without any sound. Did I keep my left hand on the table? Does it matter? This self-consciousness doesn't stop at eating.

After I finish eating I have to walk all the way across the hall to come out of the building from the hand wash room located at the other corner. Walking along with friends, I was hardly aware of my steps but alone I hardly feel the floor. As a result my walking style in general has become so self-conscious and haphazard that the other day my three and half year old daughter reprimanded me to walk straightly and even demonstrated the right way of doing it. "Mol, let me see, how long you'll be surefooted".

I, of course, don't get my lunch box. I don't see the point of it for two reasons. First, how absurd and unprofessional one looks while walking with the lunch box and eating from it! Second, I assume most people eat home food because they want to be healthy in their old age. Why does one want to live beyond the age of sixty? 

Need for the Caste System - v

If Brahmins didn't act as the "custodians" then all the wisdom of ancient India would have been lost.

Statistically Inclined Mind

Encountering an avalanche
As I climb up the Everest mountain
Drowning in a whirlpool
As I dive into the Pacific ocean
Losing way in darkness
As I wander in the forests of Amazon
I'm unafraid and calm
As probability is nil that these ever happen

In the ailments
To which I'm statistically disposed
No hope and solace
As god is statistically insignificant
My probability values
With people around so I calculate

Every heart attack
that I come across
Every diabetic
that happen to know
I silently thank
the victims of my age
For they sacrifice themselves
to reduce my chances
of being part of the percentage

Car's Victimhood

Dented
by a falling tree branch, bike, SUV, bus
Scratched
only those immobile pillars

Or Not

I see him working day and night smiling
Helping men without any misgiving
Merry making by dancing and by fighting
I wonder does he know or only pretending

Behind him some education that he has left
But what matters is what he has not learnt
They have made it clear those school years
He has only limitations and hardly any skills

In prime of his youth, but not a daring lover
But he'll get a wife , kissed she has never
It would be stable the family still ever
For the broken heart she has to get over

Youth he has never felt, may so when it is ripe

Privileged are his friends building a new life

He can only repair his until the day he dies
Everything that fell apart in growing up years

ಕೊನೆಯ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನ

ಯಾವ ದಾರಿ ಹಿಡಿಯಲಿ? ನೇರ ಹೋದರೆ ಅದು ಒಳ್ಳೇ ದಾರಿ; ಇಲ್ಲೇ ಎಡಕ್ಕೆ ತಿರುಗಿ ಹೋದರೆ, ದಾರಿ ಏನೋ ಇಕ್ಕಟ್ಟೆ ಆದರೆ ನೇರ.

ಅವನು ಹೆಚ್ಚು ಯೋಚನೆಗೆ ನಿಲ್ಲಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಸದ್ದಾಗದಂತೆ ಗೇಟು ತೆರೆದು ಎಡಕ್ಕೆ ತಿರುಗಿ ನಡೆಯಲು ತೊಡಗಿದ.

ರಾತ್ರಿಯಿಡೀ ನೋವಿನಿಂದ ನರಳಿ, ಆತ ಒಂದು ನಿರ್ಧಾರಕ್ಕೆ ಬರುವ ಹೊತ್ತಿಗೆ ಗಂಟೆ ಮೂರು ಬಡಿದಿತ್ತು. ತುಂಬಾ ವರುಷಗಳಿಂದ ಕಾಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಆ ನೋವು ರಾತ್ರಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಸರಿಯಾಗಿ ನಿದ್ದೆ ಮಾಡುವ ಅವಕಾಶವನ್ನು  ಎಂದೋ ತೆಗೆದು ಹಾಕಿತ್ತು. ಆ ನರಳಿದ ದಿನಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಮನಸ್ಸು ನಿಧಾನವಾಗಿ ಒಂದು ಆಲೋಚನೆಯನ್ನು ಹುಟ್ಟಿಸಿ ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಒಂದು ಸಂಪೂರ್ಣ ಆಕಾರ ಕೊಡಲು ಇಷ್ಟು ಸಮಯ ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಂಡಿತ್ತು.

ಆ ಅವೇಳೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾರೂ ಎಚ್ಚರವಿರುವ ಸಾಧ್ಯತೆ ಇರುವುದಿಲ್ಲ ಎನ್ನುವ ಧೈರ್ಯದಲ್ಲಿ ಹೆಜ್ಜೆ ಹಾಕಿದ. ನೂರು ಮೀಟರು ನಡೆದ ಮೇಲೆ ಆ ಕಾಲನಿಯ ಬೌಂಡ್ರಿ ಗೋಡೆ ಅವನನ್ನು ತಡೆಯಿತು. ಆ ಗೋಡೆಯಲ್ಲೊಂದು ಒಡಕವಿದ್ದು, ಆ ಸಂದಿ ಮೂಲಕ ಕಾಲನಿಯ ಮಕ್ಕಳು ಹೊರಗೋಡುವುದನ್ನು ಕಂಡಿದ್ದ. ಎಡಕ್ಕೆ ಕಣ್ಣು ಹಾಯಿಸಿದಾಗ ಪೊದೆ ಮುಚ್ಚಿದ ಆ ದಾರಿಯಲ್ಲಿ, ಗೋಡೆಯಾಚೆಯಿದ್ದ ಮನೆಯ ಪಡಸಾಲೆಯ ಬಲ್ಬಿನ ನಿಮ್ನ ಬೆಳಕು ಒಳ ಹರಿದಿರುವುದನ್ನು ಕಂಡ. ಕೈಯಿಂದ ಗೆಲ್ಲುಗಳನ್ನು ಸರಿಸಿ, ತನ್ನ ಸ್ಥೂಲ ದೇಹವನ್ನು ಕಷ್ಟದಿಂದ ಆ ಎಡೆಯೊಳಗೆ ತೂರಿಸಿ ಕಾಲನಿಯಿಂದ ಹೊರ ಬಂದ.

ಅವನು ಕಾಗದವನ್ನು ಒಂದು ದಿನ ಮೊದಲೇ ಬರೆದು ರೆಡಿ ಮಾಡಿ ಇಟ್ಟುಕೊಂಡಿದ್ದ. ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಬರೆಯುವ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಯೇ ಇರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಪ್ರೈವೆಸಿ ಏನಿದ್ದರು ಆಫೀಸಲ್ಲೇ.

ಬದುಕಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಜಿಗುಪ್ಸೆ ಬಂದಿದೆ.

"ಜಿಗುಪ್ಸೆ" ಅವನ ಫೇವರಿಟ್ ಪದ.

ಅದಕ್ಕಾಗಿ ಆತ್ಮಹತ್ಯೆ ಮಾಡಿಕೊಳ್ಳಲು ಹೋಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದೇನೆ.

"ಆತ್ಮಹತ್ಯೆ" ತೀರಾ ನಾಟಕೀಯ ಅನಿಸಿತು. ಹೊಸ ಕಾಗದ.

ಬದುಕಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಜಿಗುಪ್ಸೆ ಬಂದಿದೆ. ಅದಕ್ಕಾಗಿ ಸಾಯಲಿಕ್ಕೆ ಹೋಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದೇನೆ.

"ಸಾವು" ತುಂಬಾ ಡೈರೆಕ್ಟ್ ಅನಿಸಿತು. ಹೊಸ ಕಾಗದ.

ಬದುಕಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಜಿಗುಪ್ಸೆ ಬಂದಿದೆ. ಅದಕ್ಕಾಗಿ ಜೀವ ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಳ್ಳಲು ಹೋಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದೇನೆ. ನಾನು ಸಹಾಯಕ್ಕಾಗಿ ಎಷ್ಟೊಂದು ಬಾರಿ ಸೂಚನೆ ಕೊಟ್ಟಿದ್ದೆ. ಆದರೆ ಯಾರೂ ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಗಮನ ಕೊಡಲಿಲ್ಲ.

ತನಗೆ ಹತ್ತಿರದವರ ಬಾಳು  ಈ ದೂಶಣೆಯಿಂದ ಕಷ್ಟಕ್ಕೀಡಾಗುವುದೆಂದು ಅನಿಸಿತು. ಹೊಸ ಕಾಗದ.

ಬದುಕಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಜಿಗುಪ್ಸೆ ಬಂದಿದೆ. ಅದಕ್ಕಾಗಿ ಜೀವ ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಳ್ಳಲು ಹೋಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದೇನೆ.ನನ್ನ ಸಾವಿಗೆ ಯಾರೂ ಕಾರಣರಲ್ಲ.

ಅದಕ್ಕಿಂತಲೂ ಮುಂದೆ ಬರೆಯಲು ಅವನಿಗೇನು ತೋಚಲಿಲ್ಲ.

ಹೊಳೆ ಇನ್ನು ಇನ್ನೂರು ಮೀಟರು ದೂರದಲ್ಲಿದೆ. ಇದನ್ನು ಸಾಧಿಸಿದರೆ, ನೋವು, ಹತಾಶೆಗಳಿಗೆ  ಸಂಪೂರ್ಣ ವಿರಾಮ.

ಕಾಲುಗಳು ಇನ್ನು ಚುರುಕಾದವು.

ಬಹುಶ ಕ್ಷಿಪ್ರ ದಾರಿ ಯೋಚಿಸಬೇಕಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಇನ್ನು ನೂರು ಮೀಟರು ಮಾತ್ರ. ಇನ್ನೇನು ತಲುಪಿತು.

ನಿಧಾನವಾಗಿ ನೀರೊಳಗೆ ನಡೆಯ ತೊಡಗಿದ. ಆ ಬೇಸಿಗೆಯ ದಿನದಂದು ನೀರಿನ ಅತಿ ಆಳ ಆತನ ಸೊಂಟಕ್ಕಷ್ಟೇ ಬಂದಿತು.

ಸಾಯಲು ಹೊರಟಾಗಲೂ ಪರಿಹಾಸ. ಹತಾಶೆಯಿಂದ ಪರಿತಪಿಸುವ ಸಮಯ ಕಳೆದು ಹೋಯಿತು. ಇನ್ನೇನಿದ್ದರೂ ಕೊನೆಯ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನ, ಆಮೇಲೆ ಶಾಂತ ನಿದ್ರೆ.

ಪ್ರತಿ ಸರ್ತಿ ಕೊನೆಯ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನದ ವಿಚಾರ ಬಂದಾಗ ಏನೋ ಒಂದು ರೋಮಾಂಚನ ಏನೋ ಒಂದು ಪ್ರಶಾಂತತೆ ಏನೋ ಒಂದು ಹೊಸ ಜೀವನದ ಹುರುಪು ಇಳಿದು ಬರುತಿತ್ತು.

ಇನ್ನೊಂದು ಅರ್ಧ ಕಿಲೋಮೀಟರು ನದಿಯ ಉದ್ದಕ್ಕೆ ಮುಂದೆ ಹೋದರೆ ಮುಳುಗುವಷ್ಟು ಆಳ ಸಿಗುತ್ತದೆ.

ನೇರವಾಗಿ ಹೊಳೆಯಲ್ಲೇ ನಡೆದುಕೊಂಡು ಹೋದರೆ ವೇಗವಾಗಿ ಹೋಗಲಾಗುವುದಿಲ್ಲ ಎಂದು ಮತ್ತೆ ದಡಕ್ಕೆ ಬಂದು ದಾಪುಗಾಲಿಟ್ಟು ನಡೆಯಲಾರಂಭಿಸಿದ.

ಕೊನೆಯ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನ;ಕೊನೆಯ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನ;ಕೊನೆಯ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನ;

ಇನ್ನೂ ನಾಲ್ನೂರು ಮೀಟರು. ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲೇ ಏನಾದರು ಮಾಡಬೇಕಾಗಿತ್ತು.

ಆದರೆ ಮಕ್ಕಳು ತನ್ನ ಮೃತ ದೇಹವನ್ನು ನೋಡುವುದು ತೀರ ಕ್ರೂರತನ ಅನಿಸಿತು.

ಆಳದ ಹೊಳೆ  ಇನ್ನೂ ದೂರದಲ್ಲಿದೆ.

ಧುತ್ತನೆ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನ ಕೈಬಿಡುವ ಆಲೋಚನೆ ಬಂದಿತು. ಆಲೋಚನೆ ನಿರ್ಧಾರದ ರೂಪದಲ್ಲಿ ಬರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಬದಲು ಏನೋ ಒಂದು ಸೋಮಾರಿತನದ ಕಡಿವಾಣದಂತೆ ಬಂದು ಅವನನ್ನು ತಡೆಯಿತು.

ನೋವು ಇದ್ದದ್ದೆ. ಇಷ್ಟು ವರುಷ ಬದುಕಿದ್ದಂತೆ ಇನ್ನು ಕೆಲವು ವರುಷ.

ಅಲ್ಲೇ ದಡದ ಮೇಲೆ ಒಂದೆರಡು ಗಂಟೆ ಸುಮ್ಮನೆ ಕುಳಿತುಕೊಂಡ. ಮನಸ್ಸಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾವ ವಿಚಾರಗಳೂ ಬರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಅಥವಾ ತುಂಬಾ ವಿಚಾರಗಳು ಬಂದು ಬೆಮೆಗೊಂಡ. ಎದ್ದು ನಿಧಾನವಾಗಿ ಮನೆಗೆ ತಿರುಗಿ ಹೊರಟ.

ಬಹುಷ ಕಾಗದ ಯಾರೂ ನೋಡಿರಲಿಕ್ಕಿಲ್ಲ. ನೋಡಿದರೂ ತುಂಬಾ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆ ಕೇಳಲಿಕ್ಕಿಲ್ಲ. 

Purpose of Life

[I was sitting next to an old man, bedridden and nearing his death, and absent mindedly observing the walls and the ceiling of the room.]

[Old Man]: This house is the best I could do and all I have to show for my life

[I looked at him embarrassed and after a pause]

[Old Man]: ...and my children

Man's Responsibility

[At the Passport Office Hyderabad. There is a long queue in front of the officers]
[Few persons break the queue and try to go ahead]
[One male aggressively confronts the other male who broke the queue and makes him fall in the line]
[Woman]: There is that lady who also broke the queue.
[Man]: I know. Like we men taking care of other men; women should control their own gender. I'm not going to talk to her.