ಮನೆ ಮಾತು

ಅರ್ಪಣೆ: ಈಚೆಗೆ ಹೊಸ ರೂಪ ಪಡೆಯಲೆಂದು ಹೋದ, ಆತ್ಮೀಯವೂ ಆದ ಮನೆಯೊಂದಕ್ಕೆ!

ರಾತ್ರಿ ಹನ್ನೆರಡು ಗಂಟೆ ಇದ್ದಿರಬಹುದು. ಸಧ್ಯಕ್ಕೆ ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಗಡಿಯಾರವೂ ಇರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಇವಳು ಮೆಲ್ಲಗೆ, ಬೇರೆಯವರ ನಿದ್ದೆ ಹಾಳಾಗದಂತೆ ನಡೆದು ಮನೆಯ ಹಜಾರಕ್ಕೆ ಬಂದಳು. ಕತ್ತಲಿಗೆ ಕಣ್ಣು ಒಗ್ಗಲಿ ಎಂದು ಸುತ್ತಲೂ ಕಣ್ಣು ಹಾಯಿಸಿದಳು. ಅಲ್ಲಿಯೇ ಇದ್ದ ಒಂದು ಕುರ್ಚಿಯ ಮೇಲೆ ಹೋಗಿ ಎಲ್ಲಿಯೋ ಕಳೆದುಹೋದವಳಂತೆ ಕೂತಳು.

"ಏನಾಯ್ತು? ನಿದ್ದೆ ಬರಲಿಲ್ವ?" - ಯಾರೋ ಕೇಳಿದರು.
ಯಾರೆಂದು ಇವಳು ತಿರುಗಿ ನೋಡಿದಳು. ಅವಳ ಪಕ್ಕಕ್ಕೆ ಇದ್ದ ಗೋಡೆ ಇವಳೊಂದಿಗೆ ಮಾತಾಡುತಿತ್ತು. "ಇಲ್ಲ. ನಿದ್ದೆ ಹತ್ತಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಅದ್ಕೆ ಬಂದು ಇಲ್ಲಿ ಕೂತೆ. ಹೌದು, ನೀನು ಮಾತು ಯಾವಾಗ ಕಲಿತೆ?" - ಕೇಳಿದಳು
ಗೋಡೆ: ಮೊದಲಿಂದಲೂ ನನಗೆ ಗೊತ್ತು. ಆದರೆ 'ಮೌನ ಬಂಗಾರ' ಅಂತ ಸುಮ್ಮನೆ ಇದ್ದೆ. ಹೇಳು - ನಾಳೆಯ ಹೊಸ ಆರಂಭದ ಉತ್ಸುಕತೆಯಿಂದ ನಿದ್ದೆ ಬರ್ತಿಲ್ವ?
ಇವಳು: ಇಲ್ಲ. ಬೇರುಗಳನ್ನ ಕಿತ್ತು ಬೇರೆಡೆ ಕಸಿ ಮಾಡಬೇಕಲ್ಲ ಅನ್ನೋ ದುಃಖ, ಆತಂಕ...
ಗೋಡೆ: ಯಾವತ್ತಿಗೂ ಮುಂದೆ ಧೈರ್ಯದಿಂದ ನೋಡಬೇಕು. ಹೆದರಬಾರದು.
ಇವಳು: ವಯಸ್ಸಾಗಿದೆ. ಮೊದಲಿದ್ದ ಶಕ್ತಿ ಇವಾಗ ನನ್ನಲ್ಲಿ ಇಲ್ಲ. ಆತ್ಮವಿಶ್ವಾಸ ಕೂಡ ಕುಗ್ಗಿದೆ. ಜೊತೆಗೆ ನೆನಪುಗಳು ಭಾರವಾಗಿ ಕಣ್ಣೀರು ಉಕ್ಕುತ್ತೆ.
ಗೋಡೆ: ನೆನಪುಗಳು ನಿನಗೆ ಜೀವದ ಪಾಠಗಳನ್ನ ಕಲಿಸಿ ನಿನ್ನ ದಾರಿಯನ್ನ ನಿನ್ನ ಕಣ್ಣಿಗೆ ಕಾಣೋ ಹಾಗೆ ಮಾಡಬೇಕು. ಹೀಗೆ ಕಣ್ಣೀರಿಂದ ದಾರೀನ ಮಬ್ಬಾಗಿಸಬಾರದು.
ಇವಳು: ಏನು ಮಾಡಲಿ? ಮೂವತ್ತು ವರ್ಷಗಳ ಕಾಲ ಇದ್ದ ಮನೆ... ಇದನ್ನ ತೊರೆದು ಇವಾಗ - ವಯಸ್ಸಾದ ಸಮಯದಲ್ಲಿ ಇನ್ನೆಲ್ಲೋ ಹೋಗಿ ಬದುಕಬೇಕು ಅಂದರೆ ನೋವಾಗಲ್ವ?
ಗೋಡೆ: ಅಲ್ಲಿಗೇ ಏನು ಶಾಶ್ವತವಾಗಿ ಹೋಗ್ತಿಲ್ವಲ್ಲಾ...ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ದಿನಗಳ ಮಟ್ಟಿಗೆ ತಾನೇ?
ಇವಳು: ಆದರೂ...ಮತ್ತೆ ಬಂದಾಗಲೂ ಮೊದಲಿನಂತೆ ಇರುವುದಿಲ್ಲವಲ್ಲಾ...ಎಲ್ಲವೂ ಹೊಸತಾಗಿರುತ್ತೆ. ನೀ ಹೇಳಿದ ನೆನಪಿನ ಪಾಠಗಳು ಮಾಸಿ ಹೋಗ್ತಾವೆ.
ಗೋಡೆ: ಖಂಡಿತ ಇಲ್ಲ. ಹೊಸ ರೂಪದಲ್ಲಿ ಹಳೆಯ ಚೇತನ ಇರುತ್ತೆ. ರೂಪ ಬದಲಾದರೂ ಆತ್ಮ ಇರತ್ತೆ.
ಇವಳು: ಹೇಗೆ ಸಾಧ್ಯ? ನಾನು ಈ ಮನೆಗೆ ಬಲಗಾಲಿಟ್ಟು ಬಂದ ಘಳಿಗೆಯನ್ನ ಆ ಹೊಸ ಮನೆ ನನಗೆ ಹಿಂದಿರುಗಿಸಿ ಕೊಡತ್ತ? ನನ್ನ ಮಗನನ್ನ ಅವನು ಹುಟ್ಟಿದ ಮೇಲೆ  ಈ ಮನೆಗೆ ಕರೆದುಕೊಂಡು ಬಂದ ಕ್ಷಣ ಮಾಸದೇ ಉಳಿಯುತ್ತಾ ? ನಾವು ಪಟ್ಟ ಅದೆಷ್ಟೋ ಸಂಭ್ರಮದ ಕ್ಷಣಗಳನ್ನು ಮತ್ತೆ ನಮಗೆ ನೆನಪು ಮಾಡುವ ಏನಾದರೂ ಸಂಕೇತ ಇರುತ್ತಾ?
ಗೋಡೆ: ಕಣ್ಮುಚ್ಚಿಕೋ! ನಿನಗೆ ಬೇಕೆಂದಾಗ ನಿನ್ನ ಬಾಲ್ಯದ ಕ್ಷಣಗಳು ನೆನಪಾಗುವುದಿಲ್ಲವೇ? ಈಗ ಆ ಕಟ್ಟಡಗಳೂ ಅವಶೇಷವಾಗಿ ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಬೇರೇನೋ ಎದ್ದು ನಿಂತಿರುತ್ತದೆ. ಆದರೂ, ನೆನಪು ಮಾಸುವುದಿಲ್ಲ. ಇದೂ ಹಾಗೆಯೇ.
ಇವಳು: ಅದು ಹೇಗೆ ಇಷ್ಟು ಸಲೀಸಾಗಿ ಮಾತಾಡ್ತೀಯ? ನಿನಗೆ ಏನೂ ಅನಿಸಲ್ವ? ಮಾತಾಡೋ ನಿನಗೆ ಭಾವನೆಗಳು ಇದ್ಯೋ ಇಲ್ವೋ?
ಗೋಡೆ: ಭಾವನೆಗಳು ಇವೆ. ನಿಮಗಿಂತ ಹೆಚ್ಚಾಗಿಯೇ ಇವೆ. ನೀವುಗಳು ಮಾತಾಡಿ ಅವನ್ನ ಹೊರಹಾಕ್ತೀರಿ. ನಾನೇನು ಮಾಡಲಿ? ಇವತ್ತು - ಇಪ್ಪತ್ತೊಂಬತ್ತು ವರ್ಷ, ಆರು ತಿಂಗಳು, ಹದಿನೈದು ದಿನಗಳ ನಂತರ - ಮೊದಲ ಬಾರಿಗೆ ಮಾತಾಡ್ತಾ ಇದ್ದೀನಿ. ನೀ ಹೇಳಿದ ಎಲ್ಲಾ ಘಟನೆಗಳಿಗೂ ನಾನೇ ತಾನೇ ಮೂಕ ಪ್ರೇಕ್ಷಕ? ನೀನು ಬಂದದ್ದೂ ನೋಡಿದ್ದೇನೆ. ನಿನ್ನ ಮಗ ಬಂದದ್ದೂ ನೋಡಿದ್ದೇನೆ. ನಿನ್ನ ಸೊಸೆ ಬಂದದ್ದೂ ನೋಡಿದ್ದೇನೆ. ಯಾವ ಮಾತೂ ಆಡದೇ, ನಿನ್ನ ಮಗನಿಗೆ ಕ್ಯಾಚಿಂಗ್ ಪ್ರಾಕ್ಟಿಸ್ ನೀಡಿದ್ದೇನೆ. ನಿನ್ನ ಮಗನ ಮೊದಲ ಬೌಲರ್ ನಾನೆ. ನಿನ್ನ ಮಗ, ನಿನ್ನ ಗಂಡ ಕ್ರಿಕೆಟ್ ಆಡುವಾಗ ಕೀಪರ್ ನಾನೆ. ನೀವು  ಖುಷಿ ಪಟ್ಟಾಗ ನಾನೂ ಖುಷಿ ಪಟ್ಟಿದ್ದೇನೆ. ನಿಮಗೆ  ಬೇಜಾರಾದಾಗ ಎಷ್ಟೋ ಬಾರಿ ಸಮಾಧಾನ ಮಾಡಲು ಮುಂದಾಗಿ, ಆನಂತರ, ಮಾತಾಡುವ ಹಾಗಿಲ್ಲ ಎಂದು ಸುಮ್ಮನಾಗಿದ್ದೇನೆ. ನಿಮ್ಮ ಕಷ್ಟ, ಸುಖ, ಜಗಳ, ಮನಸ್ತಾಪ, ಬೈಗುಳ, ಸಂಭ್ರಮ - ಇವೆಲ್ಲಕ್ಕೂ ಸಾಕ್ಷಿಯಾಗಿ ನಿಂತವನು ನಾನಲ್ಲವೇ?
ಇವಳು: ಸಾಕು! ಇನ್ನು ಹೆಚ್ಚಿಗೆ ಹೇಳಿ ಮತ್ತೆ ನನ್ನನ್ನ ಅಳೋ ಹಾಗೆ ಮಾಡಬೇಡ! ನಿನಗೆ ಮಾತು ಬರುತ್ತೆ ಅಂತ ಮೊದಲೇ ಗೊತ್ತಾಗಿದ್ದರೆ, ನನ್ನ ಗಂಡ-ಮಗನ ಎದಿರು ಹೇಳಲಾರದ ಕಷ್ಟ ಸುಖಗಳನ್ನು ನಿನಗೆ ಅರುಹಿ ನನ್ನ ಭಾರ ಇಳಿಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳುತಿದ್ದೆ.
ಗೋಡೆ: ಎಲ್ಲಕ್ಕೂ ಕಾಲ ಕೂಡಿ ಬರಬೇಕು ಅಲ್ವ?
ಇವಳು: ಅಲ್ಲ, ನಾಳೆ ದಿನ ನಿನ್ನನ್ನ ಒಡೆಯುತ್ತಾರೆ  ಅಂತ ಭಯ ಆಗಲ್ವ ನಿನಗೆ?
ಗೋಡೆ: ಭಯ ಯಾಕೆ? ಹುಟ್ಟಿದ ಮೇಲೆ ಸಾವಿಗೆ ಹೆದರೋಕ್ಕೆ ಆಗತ್ಯೇ? ಯಾರೋ ಮಹಾನ್ ವ್ಯಕ್ತಿ ಹೇಳಿದ್ದಾರಂತೆ "ಅದ್ಯಾಕೆ ಸಾವಿಗೆ ಹೆದರಬೇಕೋ ಕಾಣೆ! ನಾವಿದ್ದಾಗ ಅದು ಬರಲ್ಲ. ಅದು ಬಂದಾಗ ನಾವು ಇರಲ್ಲ." ಅಂತ. ಹೀಗಿರೋವಾಗ, ಚಿಂತೆ ಯಾಕೆ? ಕೇಳು - ಬದುಕಿ ಸಾಯೋದು ದೊಡ್ದದಲ್ಲಾ...ಸತ್ತು ಬದುಕೋದು ಇದ್ಯಲ್ಲಾ - ಅದು ಸಾಧನೆ ಅಂದ್ರೆ!
ಇವಳು: ಅಬ್ಬಾ! ಅದೆಂಥಾ ಮಾತು! ಅದು ನಿಜ ಆದರೂ...
ಗೋಡೆ: ಹೋಗಿ ಮಲಗು! ನಾಳೆ ಆರಂಭವಾಗುವ ನಿನ್ನ ಹೊಸ ಜೀವನಕ್ಕೆ ಹೊಸ ಹುರುಪಿನಿಂದ ಕಾಲಿಡು. ನನ್ನ ಆಶೀರ್ವಾದ ನಿನ್ನ ಜೊತೆ ಯಾವಾಗಲೂ ಇರುತ್ತೆ! ನಾನೂ  ಇರ್ತೇನೆ! ಫೀನಿಕ್ಸ್ ಹಕ್ಕಿ ಹಾಗೆ  ಭೂತಾಯಿ ಸೇರಿ ಮತ್ತೆ ಹೊಸ ಚೈತನ್ಯದ ಜೊತೆ ಆಚೆ ಬರ್ತೇನೆ! ಹೋಗು...

Another Love Story...

Vishwa & I were walking along the streets of our locality the other day.
We stopped by a bench and sat on it - having nothing else to do that day. We were discussing and gossiping about all random stuff when Vishwa asked me "Tell me - how do I look?"
"Shall I tell you the truth or the lie?" I asked.
"Lie to me. Let's see how well you can lie and let me deduce what the truth is" Vishwa said.
"O.K...let's see. You are not too good looking. You do look older than what you actually are. That apart, you look quite fine to me. Now, this lie apart - which even you know is far from the truth - why do you ask me? Has any lady approached you with a marriage proposal? Vishwa, I would say it is never too late. You aren't that old and you don't even look old. Why don't you accept the proposal?" I said all this in a single shot, without giving him any time to react. God knows why I was so excited that day. May be, I should go to the doctor someday to get my blood pressure measured.
"Relax, my dear friend! There is nothing of that sort. I was just looking for a prelude to what I am about to tell you now. Let me tell a story today - with a shade of love" Vishwa tried to calm me down.
However, the mention of another love story got me excited all over again! I was eager to hear what Vishwa had in store.
Vishwa began - again, in his inimitable style....

"You see...This story may seem to be right out of a Bollywood story board. But, let me tell you - I don't steal stories. I may exaggerate my experiences but never create them. The problem is - whenever someone is narrating a story or 'creating' it, he thinks that it is he, who for the first time, is doing something unique. What we need to understand is, in this huge universe of ours, there is nothing called a unique, creative story. Whatever we create at this point in time would have been experienced by some other person(s) in some part(s) of the universe in some point(s) of time during the millions of years that we - humans - presumably, have been on this planet.
"Ah! I seem to be drifting away, don't I? What I meant to say was - the people in Bollywood may think they are creating the story. However, it would have already been experienced by at least one person. And what I shall tell you now is my experience and not a plagiarized version of a Bollywood story.
"Where do I begin? I was on one of my aimless tours throughout the country. I was travelling by a train. It was sometime in the afternoon that day - might even have been morning. I was standing near the door of our coach. The train was about to flag off and I wanted to look at that station - don't remember which city it was in - for the last time in the next few days, months or maybe years. I don't even know if I ever went to that city again.
"But, what did I see? A young, beautiful girl was running towards our coach with a seemingly heavy bag in hand. I, as you expect, wanted to help. She threw the bag at me. I caught it and placed it inside. She stretched her hand for me to help her get into the coach. How could I say no?! I, obviously, took her hand and helped her into the coach.
"Call it coincidence. Call it Fate. Call it luck. Call it what you want. This lady's seat was right opposite mine in the coach. We went and sat inside. After exchanging names - don't ask me the name. I hardly pay attention to those details. After exchanging names and a few formality-sake-questions, we became engrossed in our own worlds. We didn't talk much for quite sometime. Then, both of us had tea together. That's when - if I remember rightly - she opened up.
"She told me about herself in great detail. Strange isn't it? I remember all this, but not her name. I am always amazed by the ability of our brain to remember things in the strangest manner possible! She hailed from a common, middle-class family. She didn't look it. Again, we must remember the age-old, time-tested saying -'never judge a book by its cover'. Her family could only afford necessities and not luxuries. Like the millions of the middle-class folks in our country, to which you and I belong too, academic excellence was their only hope to outgrow their social strata. She was quite good at it too. A distinction-holder throughout. She also had a multifaceted personality - or, that's how I remember her telling me. Somebody told her that one way of quickly outgrowing her present strata was to get into the Civil Services. That somebody also told her that she "possessed that caliber". Believing in the words of that somebody, and maybe herself, this lady decided to go to Delhi - in pursuit of her ambitions.
"I remember all this and also the fact that I couldn't take my eyes off her!! She did most of the talking - for I was quite lost for words ever since I saw her! I punctuated her narration with quite a few obvious questions - just to show that I paid attention to her talking also! We had dinner and slept.
"The next morning, I found the seat in front of me empty. Where could she have gone in the middle of the journey? Delhi was still far off. And she had said that she was going to Delhi for her Civil Services dream. I found a letter tucked under my makeshift pillow. It was written in a graceful, feminine hand. It read:
'Dear Vishwa,
Ah! See...I already use "dear" while addressing this to you. I liked you the very moment you offered me your hand. It increased when I saw you up close. I fell for the way you patiently lent me a ear - something that I haven't seen often in people I have come across. But let me make it clear - I don't love you. Or, maybe I do. I don't know. "Love is a stupid thing", I have heard others say. Yet, here, it is making a stupid out of me. You know why I am getting down in the middle of the route and taking another train to Delhi? Had I spent a little more time with you, I would have ended up accompanying you to wherever you go and not pursuing my dreams. Thanks for everything...
                                                                                                               Yours or maybe not yours'
"I shall never know whether she was really headed for Delhi or that station where she got down. There is nothing to verify the truth of her statements. But then, there is nothing to doubt her as well. All I wish is she succeeded in her dreams of Civil Services, if she ever appeared for them.
"Come. Let's go. We have spent quite a bit of time on this bench" Vishwa said, getting up to leave.
I followed him wondering how could all such diverse experiences happen to one person alone. Then I remembered Vishwa's words that there were quite many people in the world who had similar experiences.
I am still waiting to belong to that "quite many"....