ಭಗವಂತನ ಮುಗುಳ್ನಗೆ

ಎಲ್ಲರ ಉದ್ಧರಿಪ ಪುರಂದರ ವಿಠ್ಠಲನೆ ಯಾಕೆ ಎನ್ನನು ಕಡೆಗಣಿಸಿದೆಯೋ? ದಾಸರ ಈ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ ಸಿಕ್ಕಿತೆ? ಗೊತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ. ಆದರೆ ಕೃಷ್ಣ ಭಗವಂತನ ಮುಖದಲ್ಲಿ ಮುಗುಳುನಗೆ ಕಾಣಿಸುತ್ತಿತ್ತು.

ವೃಂದ 

ಹಾರೈಕೆ

ಸಾಧನೆಯ ದಾರಿ ಬಲು ದೂರ, ನಿರಂತರ.
ಗೆಲುವಿನೊಂದೊಂದು ಮೈಲುಗಲ್ಲೂ ಹೊಳೆವ ವಜ್ರದ ಹಾರ
'ಮನೆಯೆ ಮೊದಲ ಪಾಠಶಾಲೆ ಜನನಿ ತಾನೇ ಮೊದಲ ಗುರುವು'
ಕಣ್ಕೋರೈಸೆ ಗೆಲುವಿನ ಬೆಳಕು, ಸಿಗಲಿ ಲಕ್ಷ ಹಾರ
ಸಂತಸದ ಸಿರಿಮೊಗ್ಗು ಅರಳಿ ಹೂವಾದಾಗ
ಮನತುಂಬ ನೆನಕೆ ಬಾಯಿ ತುಂಬಾ ಹಾರೈಕೆ.
ವೃಂದ

Recharge your hair, Recharge your Life

This post is an entry for recharge your hair recharge your life contest on indiblogger.in

Chapter one:
"Where were you, the baldy belle?"
"I was here combing my hair"
"Why do you tell such a lie without a strand of hair on the scalp?"
"I know but I was in a trans-combing my long black curly tresses"
"Oh God, I'm sorry. I forgot about you. Come have food and take your tablets."
"Yeah sure. Thank you for caring so much"
"Oh no, take care my dear good night."
"yeah"
Aunt Vyjayanthi closed door behind her. Once upon a time, Shanti was the pleasing figure of long black tresses and beautiful eyes. Now the cancer has slowly drawn her into a sphere of death. Shanti may breath her last anytime. Her head is completely bald and she has hallucinations sometimes like the one above.
Chemo Therapy and radiation treatments have completely made her a dependant. Her husband's aunt Vyjayanthi is taking care because Shanti doesn't have anyone except her in the world.

Chapter two:
" No! god shouldn't be so cruel" sobbed Vyjayanti. Doctors told that Shanti's days are numbered maybe one or two days.Shanti held her aunt's hands and pressed feebly, "Aunty my hair".

The next day Vyjayanti came very late in the afternoon. Along with her a beautiful young lady stepped in. Shanti's eyes widened. "Oh is that Hoogli?"
"Yeah I'm here.I was in US, Kavish told me about you. Vyjayanti aunty told me about your wish.Now close your eyes and let the Jadoo (magic) happen". Hoogli closed Shanti's eyes with one palm and did something with the other palm on Shanti's head. Shanti could feel the movements."See now" Hoogli showed a mirror to Shanti. "Yoh, I have my hair back!" There was a wide smile on Shanti's face, Hoogli had presented a beautiful wig to Shanti.
Shanti was gazing at her reflection in the small mirror, she murmered something which sounded like "Thank you"

Hoogli announced proudly"See I have cut and got the wig done only with half length of my hair". Shanti thanked again and again trying to set her new hair and asked in a teasing voice-"which shampoo?". Hoogli giggled and announced "Sunsilk the old secret".

The gloomy room was filled with joy and the pleasing scent of happiness.

Slaking Song

                                                              Slaking song

                                       She-slender serene suave sonneteer,
                                  seldom-skirmish sulky sod, solemnised soca soiree,
                                    swirled silky smooth symphonic sounds.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trying my hand at writing Haiku

                                   

The darkness and the flower

The lamp burning with orange tint
Has spread the gloriole around her head,
The burning smell of the lamp merged
With the strong smell of incense sticks,
Releasing the tiny trail of white smoke
Resembling the locks of Medusa.

Though the floor was icy cold, there laid her
Fragile body on the bare palm leaf mat,
Covered with the single white sheet
Who knew how much she shivered,
The gruelling silence around urged everyone
To pick up some talks in vain.

Resembling the moon, the pleasing
Form, decayed to the frail frame,
She was there helpless on the ground
Forgetting the venom she spate round after the round.

Who knew her enemies or friends, now,
All they came in a single row,
Were they paying the homage or
Was there a tiny smile on faces camouflaged!

They were all silent the friends and foes,
Death was the tool which brought them close,
The silent whispers how, when, why went on
Her soul was writhing in the cold breeze.

She was anointed with cold oil,
Washed with cold water,
Maybe her cold blooded thoughts made her strong,
The chanting of mysterious hymns in very low voices,
Merged with the silent cries of old women's helpless gang.

Sandalwood paste, small little jasmines, holy oil, the lamp
The incense sticks, the sinful sense of her life damp,
The end came like an eagle while the threaten, ailing
Were brandishing the knife of life
And queing up to have a last glimpse-was there a sigh of relief?

The strong man lit the pyre with trembling hands
The pleasing form, the moon like face brought down to ashes,
Only the cries and sobs
"Wait I'll chant all her posy" They turned their heads.

The threats, hatred, ill-wishes, jealous, the bad and the ugly
The disgusting points, sonnets and soliloquy.
The fire started burning, the flames higher and red
Reflected on their faces,
The reader threw books and papers into the pyre with holy grace!

Their tears dried with meaningful glances they all held their hands
together making the readers secure
Led her out of the cold dark sphere
Into the fertile, serene life of warmth.

Far from the red and orange flames, Grey black smoke
The mixed scents, the dust and night.
There it was, the life's happiness
The small family, a tiny house with green green green pasture around.

This is my second attempt at writing poems in my blog. 

Vargāvane (Transfer)

It's time to relocate again. My mother used to say some proverb "Eka chakre loka sanchari". Those who have one chakra, the fingerprint in circular lines, have the fate of wandering all over the world. Maybe it's true. But in my case it was about wandering from one house to another like the one who is called aniketana-who doesn't have his own place of dwelling. At times it was a great relief from a suffocating environment, sometimes it was a stab at the back and nowhere to go, sometimes it was in search of peace and sometimes it was an adventure.

My father who was in a government undertaking department had to relocate very frequently due to his transfers. Then there was the facility of the quarters allotted to the government employees. No problem of house hunting! He would go to the new place first, stay in the guest house or in one of the bachelor colleague's house and then wait for the quarters to be allotted to him. Then our school( eventually government) admission procedures like the TC (Transfer Certificate) from the previous school, books etc would take place. I was enjoying the daily announcements till a few days like-while answering attendance "innu TC bandilla Sir"("The TC has not yet come sir"). TC would get transfered in a couple of weeks.

Another odd job the new students in the class would get was to draw lines in the attendance registers. The lines were drawn with the help of a ruler. A thick polished piece of wood not more than a foot (12 inches) in length and 1 to 3 centimeters in diameter. It had to be rolled carefully on the sheets of the register and the lines drawn by sliding the pen or pencil along the sides of the ruler. I wonder how many teachers have spent their precious time drawing the lines in the attendance register atleast I have helped one or two of them.Sometimes these rulers were used to punish notorious students of the class.

Relocation made some children street smart and some introverts. Some were exposed to the realities of life, some were exposed to the real life, learning experiences, the way cement (concrete) electric poles were made was observed by us in a small town. A teacher asked me to explain the stages of making the poles in another city high school. She was astonished to observe my confidence and explanation. The poverty of fellow students made us to understand the difference between necessities and luxuries at a very young age.

One conspicuous thing was the lessons about Mahatma Gandhiji. Each district had it's own curriculum which included lessons about Mahatma at different levels in different languages. Me and my brothers had the luck of reading about him in almost all the classes from 1st standard to 10th standard. I was under Mahatma's influence for 5 more years as I chose history as one of my subjects in college. Naturally I was following a few of his theories, again there was relocation after my degree, I got married to a suitable groom settled in Bangalore. To my surprise a photograph of Gandhiji was hung on one of the walls of my husbands house.
The same photo is with us even to this day travelling, hopping cities and houses!

DIET

"Ask your husband not to worry. Let him walk to his shop every morning.It is just two furlongs away". The advising voice faded away as I walked faster and faster. It was a man advising his relative. Though I was a complete stranger I could make out that the lady's husband had got the high sugar levels and she was worried about it. The past decade has seen increasing levels of diabetics in India. All the media cry and shout about it, nobody knows the cause, it's just happening. A boy of 10 or 12 years walks limpingly holding his mothers arms unable to read the prescription as they come out of the doctors shop asks his mother " enu bardiddaramma?"(what has he written?) his mother with a heavy voice answers " adeno mixtard anthe"( mixtard it seems). My heart is heavier than her voice. Why this dirty disease is so cruel?

There must be some important factors which we have neglected to follow might have resulted in such a disaster. As a woman who spends half of her time in the kitchen, my mind naturally goes in that direction- are we eating properly? There was no other choice than Idlis, dosa, rotti for breakfast even a decade ago. Cereals have replaced these items as they do not need any pre-cooking excercises. Even when I was young, if we buy bread from the local baker he would kindly enquire about the health of our family members. There was a common understanding that we should eat bread only if we are sick.

 Friends groups and Media, everyone is talking about the balanced diet, healthy diet and fat-free diet. Doctors and Dieticians warn about having refined food like sweet bread and other products of maida.
We are advised to have whole wheat bread, fiber-rich products and lots of greens. Frequently having brunches may lead to obesity and under-nourishment. Why can't we eat a simple rice, roti, rasam, palya everyday and have a feast once in a while, it was done by our parents and grand parents.

We feel Ragi mudde( steamed ragi ball) and Soppina saaru(greens rasam ) are boring and tasteless food nowadays. Is healthy food always tasteless and boring? Increase in number of diabetics in the state is scary. We have no time left for excercise or walking, why can't we sit back for a while and think about our lives? is our changing lifestyle making us physically weaker than our fathers and forefathers? why don't we change our food habits atleast to improve our physical strength.