River of life

 

PC: Myself

There flows the river of life, 

All the way to the ocean - ripe. 

To watch her flow is a sight to behold!

At places she is absolutely silent, 

And at places she roars exuberant. 

At places she meanders through curves, 

And at places she diligently swerves.

If one day she drains herself completely 

All into the ocean, not a drop in flow

Only the silent trail of dust to show;

The gut wrenching shock of sudden loss

He is willing to bear it as this too shall pass.

He says he will miss, but not brood over her.

The splendour with which she once flowed,

The grandeur with which she once roared. 

Nor shall he sit by what was once the river,

And over her demise moan in pain or shiver.

Hardened at heart, he will continue with his life.

He will brave the unpredictability of the seasons,

Even if to negotiate despite the many treasons.

He will as always struggle to raise plant and bud,

Even if to water them through his sweat and blood.

Humans!

Human beings: Contradictory ideas and Individual character??
PC: Myself!

"What makes human beings interesting is that they continue to hold contradictory ideas together at the same time, and that mix is what constitutes the individual character." 

- Orhan Pamuk

Rare was this moment! Very rare indeed. As if it was a blue moon night! The angel and the devil were on the same page on this issue.
"An idealist, a romantic, a poet - far far away from reality!"
"An opportunist, a realist, a politician - scheming to get things done!"
"At times so courageous and bold; at times so timid and meek"
"Inconsistent. Simple in certain tastes, lavish in others."
"Kind and cruel"
"Mind and heart"
"Unreasonable, yet at times pragmatic!"
"Foolish, yet at times the spark of brilliance!"
"Why aren't they what they are?"
"Why can't we predict their behaviour?"
Taking a deep breath of exasperation, the angel and the devil in this extremely rare moment of agreement said in unison - " Probably, because they are humans!"

A step and a leap!!

To my mom,

What have been small steps to me,

Have always been giant leaps to her!

PC: Myself

Captured at the HortPark, Singapore

ಹೂವು - ಪ್ರೀತಿ

PC: Myself!

ಗಿಡದಿ ಕಣ್ಸೋರೆಗೊಂಡಂತೆ ಅರಳಿ, 

ಸುಗಂಧ ಬೀರಿ, ಮನ ತಣಿಸಿ, 

ದೇವರ ಅಲಂಕಾರದಿ ಸೊಗಸೇರಿಸಿ,

ಅಥವಾ ಸೌಂದರ್ಯಕ್ಕೇ ಪರ್ಯಾಯವೆನಿಸಿ

ಸುಮನೋಹರ ಚೆಲುವೆಯ ಮುಡಿಯೇರಿ

ರಂಗೇರಿಸಿದ್ದು ಮಾತ್ರವೇ ಹೂವಾಗುವುದೇ?

ಕಾಡ್ಮೊಗ್ಗಾಗಿ ಎಲೆಮರೆಯಲಿ ಅವಿತು,

ಮುಂಜಾನೆಯ ಮಂಜ್ಹನಿಯಲಿ ಮಿಂದು,

ಪ್ರಕೃತಿಯ ಬೃಹತ್ ಬ್ರಹ್ಮಾಂಡ ನಾಟಕದಿ

ಕ್ಷಣಮಾತ್ರಕ್ಕೆ ಅರಳಿ ನಗೆ ಬೀರಿ ನಲಿದು

ತನ್ನಂದದಿ ತಾನೇ ತಣಿದು, ಯಾರ 

ಕಣ್ನೋಟಕ್ಕೂ ಸಿಗದೆ ಬಾಡಿದ್ದು ಹೂವಾಗದೇ?

ನೀನೊಪ್ಪಿ ನನ್ನ ಮನದಿ ಅಂಕುರಗೊಂಡ

ಭಾವಕ್ಕೆ ಒಪ್ಪಿಗೆಯಿತ್ತು, ಅಪ್ಪುಗೆಯಲ್ಲಿ

ತನು ಸೇರಿ, ಪ್ರೇಮೋನ್ಮಾದವ ಹೀರಿ;

ಸಮಾಜ-ಸಂಸಾರ-ಪರಂಪರೆಯ ಮೂಲಕ

ಸ್ವೀಕೃತವಾಗಿ, ಒಂದೇ ಸೂರಿನಡಿಯಲ್ಲಿ

ಸಾಮಗಾನ ಹಾಡ್ವುದೇ ಪ್ರೀತಿಯಾಗುವುದೇ?

ನಿನ್ನ ಗುಣಲಕ್ಷಣ ಲೋಪದೋಷ ನಡತೆಗಳಿಗೆ

ಪ್ರತಿಕ್ರಿಯೆ ಎಂಬಂತೆ ನನ್ನಲ್ಲಿ ಗೌರವಾಭಿಮಾನಗಳು

ಚಿಗುರೊಡೆದು; ಅಸಮ್ಮತಿಯೂ ಆಗಾಗಲೆದ್ದು,

ಕೋಪ ಕಸಿವಿಸಿಯ ಕಣ್ನೋಟದಲ್ಲೇ ತೊರೆದು-ಸೆಳೆದು,

ಒಡಲಾಟದಿ ಸರಿ-ತಪ್ಪುಗಳ ತೊಳಲಾಟವ ತೊರೆದಿಹ

ಸಮಾಜ ಅನುಮೋದಿಸದ ಭಾವಾಭಿವ್ಯಕ್ತಿ ಪ್ರೀತಿಯಾಗದೇ?

The perfect shot!

camera obscura: The dark chamber!! (PC: Myself)

"Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still." 

- Dorothea Lange

      In the snow laden valleys when we would all sleep wrapped in the dark cold nights, she would stay awake. Shivering in the cold, she would wait for inspiration to strike her. Though she was smart, we thought she was eccentric since in the absence of light no photographer could capture any picture but this lass would stay up all night with her age old camera as if to capture a miracle. We would ask her often what was it that she intended to capture and with a sheepish smile she would say "the perfect shot". We even joked among ourselves that she was an occult mystery.

      The camera in its Latin origins - "camera obscura" means the dark chamber, where in all the action happens only by trapping light. Ambrose Bierce once called photograph as "a picture painted by the sun without instruction in art." But this lass stayed up in the dark nights, where darkness loomed large with increasing cold and there was meagre light if any, and for the sunlight, there was none. How could she ever capture light in its absence? And we were bewildered at her audacity of calling the absurd as the perfect!!
        This was the every night usual drama for us. Until, one fine night, she decided to call it a day! We were all surprised. How could this stubborn lass give up her pursuit of the 'perfect shot' over a night? She was hell bent on capturing the perfect shot and had doggedly battled all of us, the naysayers for so long! But then she had decided to abandon her pursuit on that fateful night of torrential rainfall. On insisting why she had made the decision, she showed us what she had captured. A bright shot of the valley. But in the midnight, at the exact strike of lightning! The timing was so perfect that until we were told of it, none of us could recognize it was captured in the midnight and not in the day! There was no sign that could tell us that it was a picture clicked at the precise moment of flash in almost pitch darkness. Nothing that hinted at her persistence; absolutely no clue of her perseverance. To the onlooker, it was just another picture of the valley. Nothing less, nothing more!
      Was it the irony of perfection that disillusioned one of its striving champion from its earnest pursuit? Or was it that she had found in her pursuit of perfection such profoundness that we weren't able to grasp as we had failed to appreciate the timing of the "perfect shot"!?

ದುಗುಡ ಕಡಲು

PC: Myself!!

ಕರಗಿ ಹರಿಯದ ದುಗುಡ ಕಡಲಿದು
ಹಾಡಿ ಕುಣಿದರೂ ನೋವು ಸಾಯದು!

ಆಸೆ ತೀರಲು ಬಯಕೆ ಮೂಡ್ವುದು
ಎಷ್ಟು ಸಿಕ್ಕರೂ ಮನಸು ನೀಗದು!

ಎಷ್ಟು ಚೆಂದವೋ ಕನಸು ಅರಳಲು
ಸತ್ಯ ತಿಳಿಯಲು ಕುಮಲು ಕುಂದದು!

ಸೊಕ್ಕು ಸೊರಗಲು ಸಮಯ ಕಾಯದು
ಕಾಣೋ ಸಬೂಬ ಕುರುಡು ಒಪ್ಪದು!

ಕರಗಿ ಹರಿಯದ ದುಗುಡ ಕಡಲಿದು

ಹಾಡಿ ಕುಣಿದರೂ ನೋವು ಸಾಯದು!

(It is the frozen ocean of sorrow that refuses to melt and flow;
Though I do sing and dance, pain refuses to wilt and die!

Once desires get fulfilled, there do arise more fancies;
How much so ever is got, the heart is never contented!

How soothingly beautiful it is when dreams do blossom within;
But as and when reality starts biting heartache diminishes not a bit!

Time neither pauses nor waits for the ego to be tamed down;
Though glaringly visible are proofs blindness never sees any of them!

It is the frozen ocean of sorrow that refuses to melt and flow;
Though I do sing and dance, pain refuses to wilt and die!)

A view of the room....

PC: Myself!!

The half smoken cigarette buds

The unfinished bookmarked books

The cloth strewn bed of mine

The unwashed colored glass of wine

The forgotten fruits that rot and stink

The worn out shirts with stains of ink

The damp socks too old, plenty of mold 

The dusty boots waiting for the cold

The laptop running short of power

The mobile that got wet in shower

The speaker booming in loop since long

The router overused, hence gone wrong

The camera lens washed only by rain

The gift I got for her, that waits in vain...