A NEW BEGINNING

It is not often that a creator is limited by his creations. Yet, it happened with me. I was limited by the character I created - VISHWA! Vishwa has a much broader vision than I care to write about at this point in time. So, this time, I decided to create a new character, who is very much a student, like me. I call him Ajay. It could be Ajay Roy, Rao, Sen, Sinha, Singh, Nair, Iyer, Patnaik, Gupta - basically, he is a guy with a pan-Indian outlook. Or atleast, thats what I want him to be. While Vishwa is for the more eternal issues, Ajay is for the contemporary. So, AJAY says "HI!"


Ajay got up - from the right side of his bed, as his parents had always told him to. 'It brings good luck' they had said. Now that he was away, Ajay wanted all the luck. Or, shall we say, that he didn't want any bad-luck? Before getting out of bed, he said to himself "Right, Ajay. You are now in IISER-K. You are on your own. This is your house for the next 5-years, at least. Get up and get going". He inspired himself and went to the bathroom. He knew nobody there. Of course, it was still the first day. He said "Good morning!". He didn't get any response. Two of the guys who were there looked at him sharply. Talking amongst themselves, they moved out. The only word he could hang on to was "Boka" - he didn't know what they meant. He didn't bother himself with that either, He had other things to ponder about.

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"I was in IIT-K for 25 years. I have always loved teaching. I love teaching the first years and make them love the subject that I teach...." - the very first class on the very first day was by the Director. Ajay seemed to be more interested in the people around him than what the Director was speaking. He looked around and saw people with their books and pens at the ready - to capture the pearls of wisdom from this man of experience who was in front of them, speaking. "Am I being normal? Or are these guys normal?" - Ajay asked himself. It was while looking around that he saw her. He didn't know her name, it being the first class still. Nevertheless, she got all his attention for the rest of the lecture. Ajay couldn't say why he was attracted to her. Was it her eyes - that were very beautiful? Or was it  her curls that repeatedly fell over her eyes? Or was it the grace in her movements as she moved  those curls back, with eyes fixed on the Director? Ajay couldn't say. She stood out from the rest, for Ajay.

Ajay walked out after class with the few new friends he had made through the day, courtesy his roommate, a Bengali. Yet, he wasn't sure if he could ask any of them the name of the girl - right on the first day. Besides, he couldn't understand their language either. What if that girl was a Bengali too? He would be in deep trouble! Moreover, they were busy discussing about the class - he figured it out by the repeated mention of the facultys' names. Ajay turned back - just to see if she was still there. She was not to be seen!

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Her name was Aditi. Ajay found that out while the attendance was called by one of the faculty. He repeated the name to himself. To him, that name seemed magical! 'What a beautiful name!' he said to himself over and over again!

The seniors came to their wings that evening. All first years were called. They asked the juniors to introduce themselves. 'OK! Now, if they try to rag me, let me not give up. Let me be a sport. That way, I shall make an impression on the batch and of course, Aditi!' - this was Ajay's game plan. Unfortunately, nothing of that sort happened. The seniors were happy with the intros and went away. Ajay was disappointed!

All of them went to the canteen for dinner. Ajay carefully observed Aditi. She seemed to be alone.
"Beta! Mann mein laddoo phoota"  Ajay heard somebody say! He went over to her and introduced himself. She, out of politeness, introduced herself. They dined together that night. When they said "Goodnight!", they had exchanged phone numbers and more than mere courtesy calls. Ajay couldn't believe his luck! He thanked his parents for telling him to get up on the right side of the bed every morning! He went to sleep a happy man!

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It was almost a month into the first semester. Ajay had quite a few pals by now. So did Aditi. Yet, they never missed a chance to spend some time together - breakfast or lunch or tea or dinner. They somehow made time for each other. They were gossiped about in the batch. They knew it too. They couldn't help it, could they? It was just that they had taken a liking to each other.

It was a Saturday. Ajay told his roommate "Bhai, I am going to the computer center. I have some work" and left. His roommate,  Sen, was puzzled. "Ajay has a laptop. What work can he have in the computer center? Surely, there must be something' he thought and hatched a plan with his friends.


Ajay met Aditi at the Computer Center. They went in and chose the systems towards the corner, so that they could talk without much disturbance. Being in the middle of nowhere, this was their choice of the first date! They planned to go out of the campus for lunch. They began talking. Aditi did most of the talking. Ajay was lost looking into her eyes and her curls as they fell over the eyes. Aditi repeatedly kept brushing them off with her hands.

Ajay didn't know how to go about it. He said "Aditi, would you mind if I hold your hand, as we speak?"

Aditi blushed and nodded her head. Ajay was about to hold her hand when Tantu, his batchmate, marched through the doors with an irritatingly innocent smile and said "Ajay, kemun acho?"(Ajay, how are you?)

Ajay and Aditi were startled byTantu's presence. They started working on their systems. Tantu came and settled beside them, asking Ajay irrelevant questions! Aditi walked out after a few minutes and took the next bus back to the hostel.

Ajay walked out disappointed, Tantu behind him, blabbering nonsense! Sen was there with other friends, outside the Computer Center, laughing at Ajay! Ajay then remembered - in his excitement, he had gotten up on the left side of the bed that day!

THE ENGLISH TEACHER

   It was a lazy, Sunday afternoon. I seriously do not seem like doing anything on those days apart from sleeping on the bed with a warm enough blanket and maybe a cup of coffee with a good book or a good movie. That would make an ideal Sunday afternoon. That day, however, this usually attractive and pleasurable habit seemed to repulse me. But then, I always have a remedy - Vishwa! I decided to pay him a visit. Now, do not ask me where he finds the money to maintain the house. All I have ever seen him do is talk to people or narrate stories and eat-n-drink at Ramu's.
   His house was clean and tidy. Everything was in its place - organised. Surely, a guy cannot keep his house so neat. There must be a bai behind all this. Still, where did he find the money to appoint her? There are a lot of dimensions to Vishwa that I still need to understand.
   Vishwa's trunk was there and I peered into it, with curiosity. Among all the other stuff, there was a yellowed envelope in it. Knowing it would be indecent to look into it without his knowledge, I asked him if I could open it. Looking at the envelope, Vishwa smiled. I couldn't comprehend.
  "Vishwa, what is it that you are smiling about?" I asked.
  "The envelope you are holding right now, has a story associated with it" he said.
  I settled down and so did he before he began narrating in his usual, lucid style:
"As you know, I never stay in one place. I keep going to different places. And wherever I go, I do not beg for money or food. I try to find myself a job and feed myself through that.
 It so happened that on one of my tours, years back, I happened to stop in a village. I felt that I could stay in that village for a few months and rest myself before moving on. So, I decided to contact the Chairman of the village. That Chairman was a big, tough-looking guy, but hollow from inside. He was respected because his family was the richest in the village and half the people in the village were in debt for generations - taken by their forefathers from the forefathers of the Chairman.
 Before going to the Chairman, I had gathered enough information about him - that he had two wives and 3 daughters, that he also had a mistress, his house was the only one in the village to have a transistor and also that he was obsessed with English. Though he did not know English, he wanted his children to learn English. I went to him and introduced myself. I asked him for shelter, a job and did not forget to mention my fluency in English.
 That did it! I was offered a room in his house, so that I could take English classes for his daughters. The deal was that I need not pay anything as rent or for food or anything else. There was a catch - he wouldn't pay me for the classes as well! He was smart!
 I agreed to take the English classes - with a condition that other people in the village may also attend. Though slightly reluctant, he agreed. And my English classes began.
 People of all ages came. I am not being vain, but I was good-looking enough to get all the young women in the village to enroll for classes. And following them, came the guys! The numbers were huge - around 60, I guess. 60 people for an English class, back then, in a village was huge! I stayed in that village for around 3 months. People there got attached to me and me, to them. In all their little fights, petty daily issues, I could see life brimming out. They were illiterate. They were uneducated. However, let me tell you, they were alive!
 Coming back to the English class, I must confess, I did not make much progress except that the Chairman's daughters learnt quite a bit.
 One night, the Chairman's eldest daughter came to my room. She was a very beautiful girl. She had beautiful eyes that I still, sometimes, see in my dreams! "Vishwa Sir, I have something to give you" she said and gave me the envelope. She ran out blushing! To be frank, I could see that coming. For a few days I had observed that she took special initiative in tending to my needs. However, I wasn't ready for it. Besides, what would the Chairman think of me? Forget thinking, what would he do to me - with all those musclemen of his!? I still clearly remember what the letter - now in your hand - had.
 'Dear Vishwa Sir,
  I not know how to write this. If English is bad, please maafi. 
  From the day I saw you, you are in my heart. I stay cannot without seeing your beautiful face with that thin muchi. I talk to father. You talk also to father and arrange marrage. I will not live without you'
After about an hour or so, she came into the room on the pretext of calling me to dinner. She asked about the letter. I said "See, it should be 'I do not know' not, 'I not know'. It is not 'maafi' in English. It is 'Please forgive me'. Instead of 'I stay cannot' you must write 'I cannot stay'. For 'muchi', it is moustache. It should be 'You also talk to father' and the spelling is 'marriage'. This is all I can tell you."
 I could see she was terribly heartbroken. She went away crying. I knew it would be disastrous for me to stay there any longer. So, the next day, I told the Chairman that I had spent quite sometime in their village and would like to move on. He agreed and gave me some money, to cover my expenses till I found the next stop. I left that very day."
 I was silent for a while. "Vishwa, if you still see those eyes in your dreams, why didn't you accept her?" I asked.
 "Come on! You don't expect me to be tied down to a single place, do you? I can't take all that responsibility of a family. It is not my cup of tea. Yes, sometimes I do feel that I need to have someone that I can call family. But, the very next moment I realise that it is not for me. Don't bother about all that. Come, let's go and have something at Ramu's" Vishwa said, getting ready to go out. 

Just Another Story

    This obsession with coffee is something that Vishwa and I haven't been able to conquer. But then, everybody has their own indulgences. So, we don't mind. I don't think anybody else should also! We were sipping coffee in Ramu's at our usual table. The latest songs blared on the radio in Ramu's.
"You know something?" Vishwa started. "The system and society in which we live in is not at all right!"
"Who said it is? No system is perfect. It has to be made perfect. We can never be all perfect, can we Vishwa? If we were, we would be gods. But who are we? Mere mortals. Mere specks on this vast canvas of life" - I replied using all that I had listened to and learnt from a religious discourse the previous night. I had been forced to attend it with my family. They had organised it and invited the speaker - someone from one of the numerous orders in the city.
"Stop speaking like some aged philosopher! There is a flaw in our social makeup. Let me tell you what I mean.
 I was in Bengal on of my vagabond journeys. I deeply wanted to go to Dakshineshwar and visit the Kali temple. I hired a cycle rickshaw. A few minutes into the journey, the rickshaw-wallah started talking to me.
"Babu, would you mind if I tell you a story - so that both of us do not feel the journey?" he asked me in Hindi. Till then, I had narrated stories to many people. But here, I found someone who would narrate me one! I, of course, agreed.
"Babu, the story is set in a period some 20-25 years back. The protagonist of the story is a Muslim ladka. He is a very smart guy - a degree holder. During that time, you know, a simple degree meant a lot! It meant, with Allah's blessings, he was eligible for government jobs and go on to become big Sahebs. His parents were very proud of him. They decided to arrange for his nikah.
However, our hero didn't want to get married without getting a proper job. He didn't want to start a family without money. He offered stiff resistance - until he saw the girl! The girl was so beautiful that all his resistance melted! I have to add that this incident about his supposed resistance became the talk of the town and caused much embarrassment to the boy during nikah - everybody made fun of him! He took it all in his stride. Why wouldn't he? He was marrying such a beautiful girl!
At the time of his marriage, he hadn't yet found a job. However, he was confident of finding one - so was everybody around him. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to find a job soon. Around the same time, he learnt that his child would enter the world in a few months time. With happiness, renewed determination and energy, he set out to find himself a job. He drew a blank everywhere - all jobs were either "sold" or given to those with influence and recommendations!
His child was due any day. Then, a disaster occurred. A man-made one at that. The Babri Masjid was pulled down! Shock waves were felt all around the country! There was widespread communal violence. The families started evacuating and moving to places dominated by their own religion.
But our hero could not move to safety - his wife went into labor. All facilities were hit. He wasn't able to move his wife to the hospital in time. She delivered at home and died during childbirth. The child, however survived.
The troubles increased for our protagonist. There was no one to help him cremate his loving wife - beautiful even in death! There was nobody to take care of his child. Everybody had already moved out. So, he was all alone. There wasn't money to find supplies for his child. Even if there was, nobody wanted to help him - he was a Muslim! The baby cried endlessly and fell into sleep - tired! His heart went out to the child - but he was helpless! He then decided to do something that he would not even dream of in other circumstances - to steal money and go to some far off shop and buy something for his new-born child. He didn't want to let the flame of his family die out! As you might expect, he was caught in the act! Even after he told them his heart-wrenching plight, they were unmoved. They promptly handed him over to the police.
The police slapped charges of inciting communal violence on him and the court sentenced him to prison for 5 years.
Within 2 days, he received news - his only child had died!". The rickshaw-wallah stopped his narration.
I had tears in my eyes. "Babu, Dakshineshwar" he said and stopped the rickshaw. I got down and paid him money. Before leaving, he said "Babu, the story I told you all along, was mine. I am the protagonist of the story". I stood rooted for sometime."
Vishwa dabbed his eyes with his kerchief. I had tears in my eyes too.
"You tell me. Had he been given a job on his merit, would his wife have died? Would he have taken to stealing? Would his child have died? Why did the police have to frame him just because he was a Muslim? Didn't those who caught him have hearts to understand his plight? Ultimately, why did somebody have to demolish some stucture? And why should that affect somebody else living hundreds of miles away from that place? That's what I mean by there is a flaw in our social makeup" - Vishwa asked me, in a voice of anger and frustration.
I had no answer.
The songs still blared on the radio in Ramu's. 

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"....

Thus, A Love Story...

It was a day like any other - a usual Saturday. Vishwa and I met in the evening at the familiar Ramu's to discuss the various happenings across the world. Vishwa's insights had helped me form my own insights over several issues. So, I was all ears whenever Vishwa and I discussed anything. He had mastered the art of articulation!

I do not know what motivated Vishwa that day. He spoke to me at length about the magic of teenage - the veil it can cast upon reality and make everything around seem either very beautiful or very crooked! Then, all of a sudden, he drifted into this narrative:

"I don't know what makes me so nostalgic today - nostalgic especially about those few days of my life. I shall tell you something that I nobody else apart from me knows. 

It happened years back - I was in school...college maybe. I don't remember exactly. Forgive me - for I have seen so much in this world that I tend to forget such trivial stuff! Am not boasting when I say I've seen much in life. Oh! let's get back to the track....

Where was I? Yes...Take it that I was in college. It was there that I came across that girl in class. Very beautiful she was! She stood out from the rest of the group - or at least to me, she did. Mind always sees what it wants to see, right?! It is a very beautiful object - the brain. But does the brain house the mind?! Very intriguing! 

Ah! She held my attention ever since the moment I saw her. I observed her in class. Every act of hers was filled with grace! Or, again, maybe I felt thus. The way she walked, the way she talked, her smile, her style - I admired every bit of it! I do not know and do not care whether others in my class also felt the same. All I know is she was weaving a web of magic around me. And I found myself being willingly trapped in that web of grace and charm!!! 

Maybe she observed that I was love-struck. Maybe others in the class played Cupid's messengers. I do not know. After a few days, she would sometimes turn towards me in class and find me staring at her - admiringly. Tell me - which girl does not like admiration? Of course, every single being of the female species wants to be admired! And this lady here deserved it! Can you imagine the joy I experienced that very first time she smiled at me! It was as though I had conquered the entire world! Yes - I had conquered the entire world - for, ever since I had set my eyes on her, she had become my world! Do I sound melodramatic? Forgive me, if I do. 

After that day, every day, every class, every few minutes - she would turn around and throw a magical smile towards me. And me - I would be waiting to grab it, as though a dog waiting for its mistress to throw its favourite biscuit towards it!! I did nothing in class apart from waiting for her to turn towards me and smiling, I also maintained count of how many times she smiled at me. Do you now understand why I dropped out of college education and never continued it?! Yet, I must say - dropping out of formal education system has its own advantages - I have learnt a lot by moving about the whole place and meeting all people from all walks of life. Life is the greatest school and experience is the greatest teacher, you see. It has taught me what nobody else has or nobody would probably have taught. 

Let me get back to the narrative. Finally, we neared our farewell - "A New Beginning" as they called it - they believed that all of us would get into universities, study well, land in great jobs, earn big bucks and "settle" in life. Hence the name. Though I personally never satisfied any of their criteria, it indeed was a new beginning for me too. To discover myself and also to discover the world - through me! And I can say that am more "settled" in life than any of my batch-mates. All of them went in search of comforts while I found comfort where I was. Well, let's not get into the debate of what "settling" in life means.

 She was there of course. And she was prettier than usual. Again, she threw a smile at me which I readily grabbed! We had a great lunch - organised by our college. There were tears, hugs and photographs. Then, it was time for us to leave. As we passed through the gates of our college for one last time - I turned back to look her. She saw me too. She smiled....I smiled back...

Ah! That was the last time I ever saw her. I liked her back then. I like her now. But does it ever qualify to be called love? Was it mere infatuation? Was it mere admiration? I shall never know.I do not care to know. And what is her name? I don't recollect. Why should I? She was just another person in this long journey of life. Yes - she was a little special. Then, again, "What's in a name?".....

By the way, why did I tell you all this?" Vishwa said at the end.

I just shrugged my shoulders........

ಟಿ. ವಿ. ಬಂತು ಟಿ. ವಿ.

 ಅಂದು ಶನಿವಾರ. ರಜಾ ಇದ್ದ ಕಾರಣ  ಸ್ನೇಹಿತರೆಲ್ಲ ಒಟ್ಟಿಗೆ ಕುಳಿತು  ಹರಟೆ ಹೊಡೆಯುತ್ತಾ,  ಕಾಲ "ತಳ್ಳುವ" ಪ್ರಯತ್ನದಲ್ಲಿ ಇದ್ದೆವು.   ಮನೆಯಿಂದ ಹೊರಬಿದ್ದ ಅನುಭವ  ಹಸಿಯಾಗಿಯೇ ಇತ್ತು. ಮಾಡಲು ಬೇರೆ ಏನೂ ಇಲ್ಲದ ಕಾರಣ ಮನೆಯ ನೆನಪು  ಕೂಡ ಮರುಕಳಿಸುತ್ತಿತ್ತು. ಮನೆಯನ್ನು ಮರೆತಿದ್ದೆವು ಎಂದಲ್ಲ - ಆದರೂ, ಮನೆಯ ನೆನಪು ನಮ್ಮ ದಿನನಿತ್ಯದ ಕೆಲಸಗಳಿಗೆ ಅಡ್ಡಿಯಾಗಬಾರದು ಎಂದು ಬೇರೆ ಕೆಲಸಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ತೊಡಗಿಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳುತಿದ್ದೆವು.

"ಎರಡು ವಾರಗಳಾದವು. ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿದ್ದ ಯಾವ ವಸ್ತು ಆಕರ್ಷಣೆಗಳು ಇಲ್ಲದಂತೆ ಆಗಿದೆ. ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಇದ್ದಾಗ ವಾರಕೊಮ್ಮೆ ಸಿನೆಮಾಕ್ಕೆ ಹೋಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದೆ. ಹೊರಗಡೆ ಹೋಗಿ ತಿನ್ನುತ್ತಿದ್ದೆ. ಇಲ್ಲಿಗೆ ಬಂದ ಮೇಲೆ, ತಿನ್ನಲು ಅವಕಾಶವೂ ಇಲ್ಲ, ಆಸೆಯೂ ಇಲ್ಲ" ಎಂದು ಗೆಳೆಯನೊಬ್ಬ  ಹೇಳಿದ. ನಾವುಗಳು ಕೂಡ ತಲೆಯಾಡಿಸಿದೆವು.  ಕೆಲವೇ ದಿನಗಳ  ಅಂತರದಲ್ಲಿ ನಮ್ಮಲ್ಲೇ ಆದ ಬದಲಾವಣೆ ಕಂಡು ನಮಗೆ  ಬೆರಗಾಯಿತು. "ಕಾಲವನ್ನು ತಡೆಯೋರು ಇಲ್ಲ" ಎಂದು ಯಾರೋ  ಹಾಡಿದಂತೆ ಭಾಸವಾಯಿತು!

ಇದ್ದಕಿದ್ದ ಹಾಗೆ ನಮ್ಮ ಆಲೋಚನೆಯನ್ನು ಕತ್ತರಿಸಿ ಬಿಸಾಡುವ ರೀತಿಯಲ್ಲಿ  ಕಿರುಚಾಟ  ಕೇಳಿಬಂತು. ನಮ್ಮ ಎದೆ ಝಗ್ಗೆಂದಿತು. 

  ಯಾರಿಗೆ ಏನಾಯಿತೋ ಎಂದು ಹೊರಗೆ ಓಡಿದೆವು.  ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ಕಾಮನ್ ರೂಂನತ್ತ ಓಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ನಮ್ಮ ಗಾಬರಿ ಇನ್ನೂ ಹೆಚ್ಚಿತು. ಹೋಗಿ ನೋಡಿದರೆ, ಕಾಮನ್ ರೂಮಿಗೆ  ಒಬ್ಬ ಹೊಸ ಅತಿಥಿಯ ಆಗಮನವಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಹೊಚ್ಚ ಹೊಸ ಟಿ. ವಿ. ಬಂದಿತ್ತು!

ಅದನ್ನು ನೋಡಿಯೇ ಅಷ್ಟು ಜೋರಾದ ಕಿರುಚಾಟ ಆರಂಭವಾಗಿದ್ದು. ಅಷ್ಟು ದಿನಗಳಿಂದ ಟಿ.ವಿಯಿಲ್ಲದೆ ಇದ್ದ ನಮಗೆ ಅದನ್ನು ಕಂಡು ಆದ ಆನಂದ ಕೂಗಾಗಿ ಹೊರಬಿದ್ದಿತ್ತು! ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ತಮ್ಮ ಸ್ನೇಹಿತರಿಗೆ ಕರೆ ಮಾಡಿ, ಬಂದು ನೋಡುವಂತೆ "ಆಹ್ವಾನ" ನೀಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ಕೆಲವರು ಮನೆಗೆ ಕರೆಮಾಡಿ ತಮ್ಮ ಆನಂದ ಉತ್ಸಾಹಗಳನ್ನು ಫೋನಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಧಾರೆಯೆರೆದರು! ಅವರ ಮುಖಗಳನ್ನು ನೋಡುವುದೇ ಒಂದು ಸಂತೋಷವಾಗಿತ್ತು ನನಗೆ. ಅತಿಥಿಯೊಂದಿಗೆ ಸಂದರ್ಶನದ ಭಾಗ್ಯ ಇನ್ನೂ ನನಗೆ ಲಭಿಸಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ - ರಸ್ತೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಒಬ್ಬ ಕ್ರಿಕೆಟಿಗ ಅಥವಾ ಸಿನೆಮಾ  ಬಂದಾಗ ಜನ  ಕಿಕ್ಕಿರಿಯುವಂತೆ ಜನ ಕಾಮನ್ ರೂಮ್ನಲ್ಲಿ ತುಂಬಿದ್ದರು. ಸೆಕ್ಯುರಿಟಿ ಮೊದಲಾಗಿ ಎಲ್ಲರು ಅಲ್ಲೇ ಇದ್ದರು - ಆರತಿ, ಪ್ರಸಾದದ ವಿನಿಯೋಗ ಒಂದೇ ಕಡಿಮೆಯಾಗಿತ್ತು ಎನ್ನಬೇಕು! 

 ಮಧ್ಯಾಹ್ನ ಊಟದ ವೇಳೆಯಲ್ಲೂ ಟಿ.ವಿಯದೆ ಮಾತು. ಅದರ ಅಂದ-ಚೆಂದ, ಅಂಕು-ಡೊಂಕುಗಳ ವಿಶ್ಲೇಷಣೆ ನಡೆಯಿತು.  ತಮ್ಮ ತಮ್ಮ ಮನೆಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಇದ್ದ ಟಿ.ವಿಯ ಹಾಗೂ ಇಲ್ಲಿಯ ಟಿ.ವಿಯ "ತುಲನಾತ್ಮಕ" ಚರ್ಚೆ ನಡೆಯಿತು. ತಮ್ಮ ತಮ್ಮ ನೆಚ್ಚಿನ ಕಾರ್ಯಕ್ರಮಗಳ, ಧಾರಾವಾಹಿಗಳ, ನಟ-ನಟಿಯರ ಚರ್ಚೆಯೂ ನಡೆಯಿತು. ಆದರೆ ನನಗೆ ಏಕೋ ಆ ಉತ್ಸಾಹ ಮೂಡಲಿಲ್ಲ. ತೆಪ್ಪಗೆ ಊಟಮಾಡಿ ಹೊರಬಿದ್ದೆ. 

 ಆ ದಿನ-ರಾತ್ರಿಯೆಲ್ಲ ಎಲ್ಲರು ಕಾಮನ್ ರೂಮ್ನಲ್ಲಿ ಜಮಾಯಿಸಿದ್ದರು.  ನನಗೆ ಇನ್ನೂ  ಸಂದರ್ಶನ ಭಾಗ್ಯ ದೊರೆತಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಕೊನೆಗೆ, ರಾತ್ರಿ ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ಮಲಗಿದ ಮೇಲೆ, ನಾನು ಹೋದೆ. ಟಿ.ವಿ ಮಹಾಶಯ ಅಲ್ಲೇ ಇದ್ದ. ನೋಡಿದೆ - ತೆಳ್ಳಗೆ ಇದ್ದ. ನಾನೇ ಸಣ್ಣ ಎಂದರೆ, ನನಗಿಂತಲೂ ಸಣ್ಣ ಇದ್ದ! ತನ್ನನ್ನು "ಎಲ್ ಜಿ ಎಲ್ ಇ ಡಿ ಎಂದು ಕರೆಯುತ್ತಾರೆ" ಎಂದು ಹೇಳಿದ. ನಾನೂ ನೋಡಿದೆ.  ಅದ್ಯಾಕೋ   ಯಾವ  ಭಾವನೆಯೂ ಮೂಡಲಿಲ್ಲ. "ನೀ  ಯಾರಾದರೂ ನನಗೇನು? ನೀನೇನು  ನಮ್ಮವನೇ? ಎಲ್ಲಿಂದಲೋ ಬಂದಿರುವ ನೀನು, ನನಗೆ ಯಾಕೆ ನಿನ್ನ ಕುಲ ಗೋತ್ರ  ನಾಮ ನಕ್ಷತ್ರ ಹೇಳುತ್ತೀಯೆ?" ಎಂದು ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಖಾರವಾಗಿ ಪ್ರಶ್ನಿಸಿದೆ.

 "ನೋಡು - ನೀನು ಯಾರೆಂದು ನೀನು ನನಗೆ ಹೇಳಿಲ್ಲ. ಅಡ್ಡಿ ಇಲ್ಲ. ಆದರೆ, ಇಲ್ಲಿ ಇರುವಷ್ಟು ದಿನ,  ಹೊರ ಜಗತ್ತನ್ನು ಇದ್ದ ಹಾಗೆಯೇ ತೋರಿಸುವ ಪವಿತ್ರ  ಕರ್ತವ್ಯ ನನ್ನದು ಎಂದು ನನ್ನನ್ನು ಇಲ್ಲಿಗೆ ಕರೆದುಕೊಂಡು ಬರುವಾಗ ಹೇಳಿದರು. ಅವರು ಹೇಳಿದ್ದನ್ನು ಪಾಲಿಸುತ್ತೇನೆ ಅಷ್ಟೆ. ನಿನ್ನ ನನ್ನ ಭೇಟಿ ಎಷ್ಟು  ಬಾರಿಯಾಗುತ್ತದೋ, ಯಾರು ಬಲ್ಲರು. ಇದ್ದಷ್ಟು ದಿನ ಒಳ್ಳೆ ಸ್ನೇಹಿತರಾಗಿ ಇರೋಣ. ನೀವು ಮನುಷ್ಯರು "ಯಾಂತ್ರಿಕವಾಗಿ" ಲಾಭ-ನಷ್ಟಗಳ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಯೋಚನೆ ಮಾಡುತ್ತೀರ. ಆದರೆ, ನಾನು ಹಾಗಲ್ಲ. ಇದ್ದಷ್ಟು ದಿನ ಸಾಧ್ಯವಾದಷ್ಟು ಒಳ್ಳೆ ಸಂಬಂಧ, ಗೆಳೆತನ ಇರಲಿ ಎಂದು ಆಶಿಸುತ್ತೇನೆ. ನಿನಗೆ ಒಪ್ಪಿಗೆಯಿದ್ದರೆ, ನನ್ನೊಂದಿಗೆ ಸ್ನೇಹ ಬೆಳೆಸು. ಇಲ್ಲವಾದಲ್ಲಿ, ನನಗೆ ತೊಂದರೆ ಇಲ್ಲ. ಹೇಗಿದ್ದರೂ, ಬೇರೆಯವರು ಇದ್ದಾರೆ. ನಿನಗೆ ಯಾರು ಇಲ್ಲ ಎಂಬುದು ನೆನಪಿರಲಿ" ಎಂದು ಮಹಾಶಯ ಹೇಳಿದ. 

 ನನ್ನ ಒಬ್ಬಂಟಿತನದ ಅರಿವಾಯಿತು. ಯಾಕೆ ಅಷ್ಟು ಕಟುವಾಗಿ ಮಾತಾಡಿದೆ ಎಂದು ಪಶ್ಚಾತ್ತಾಪ ಉಂಟಾಯಿತು. ತಲೆ ತಗ್ಗಿಸಿ ನಿಂತೆ. "ಬಾ. ನನ್ನ ಮೂಲಕ ಹೊರಗೆ ನೋಡು. ಆಮೇಲೆ ನಿನ್ನ ಒಳಗಡೆ ನೋಡುವೆಯಂತೆ" ಎಂದು ಟಿ.ವಿ ಮಹಾಶಯ ನನಗಾಗಿ ಹೊಸ ಜಗತ್ತನ್ನು ತೆರೆದ. ಬಹಳ ಸಮಯ ಅವನೊಂದಿಗೆ ಚರ್ಚಿಸಿದೆ - ರಾಜಕೀಯ, ಕ್ರೀಡೆ, ಇತಿಹಾಸ, ಮನುಷ್ಯ ಜಾತಿ, ಮನಸ್ಸು, ದೇವರು - ಹೀಗೆ ಹಲವಾರು ವಿಷಯಗಳ ವಿನಿಮಯ ಮಾಡಿಕೊಂಡೆವು. ರಾತ್ರಿ ಎಷ್ಟೋ ಹೊತ್ತಿನ ಬಳಿಕ ಬೀಳ್ಕೊಂಡೆ. ಟಿ.ವಿ ಮಹಾಶಯ ನನಗೆ ಅದೆಷ್ಟೋ ಹೇಳಿಕೊಟ್ಟ - ಎಲ್ಲರೊಂದಿಗೆ ಪ್ರೀತಿಯಿಂದ ಇರಬೇಕು, ಸಂಬಂಧಗಳನ್ನು ಕಾಪಾಡಿಕೊಳ್ಳಬೇಕು, ಯಾಂತ್ರಿಕವಾಗಿ ಬದುಕಬಾರದು ಎಂದು ತಿಳಿಸಿಕೊಟ್ಟ. ಹೊರಗಡೆ ಕಪ್ಪಗಿದ್ದರೂ, ಆ ಮಹಾಶಯ ತನ್ನ ಒಳಗಿನ ತೇಜಸ್ಸು, ಬಣ್ಣ, ಸೌಂದರ್ಯಗಳಿಂದ ಬೆಳಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದ. 

 ಹೋಗಿ ಮಲಗಿಕೊಂಡೆ. ಎಷ್ಟೋ ಹೊತ್ತಾಗಿತ್ತು......... 

 ಇದ್ದಕ್ಕಿದ್ದ ಹಾಗೆ ಬಾಗಿಲನ್ನು ಯಾರೋ ಬಡಿದಂತಾಯಿತು. ಸಮಯ ಮಧ್ಯಾಹ್ನ ಒಂದು ಗಂಟೆಯಾಗಿತ್ತು. ನಿದ್ದೆಯಿಂದ ಎದ್ದು ಬಾಗಿಲು ತೆರೆದೆ. ಹೊರಗಡೆ ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ಕುಣಿಯುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ಏನಾಯಿತು ಎಂದು ಕೇಳಿದೆ. "ನಮ್ಮ ಕಾಮನ್ ರೂಮಿಗೆ ಟಿ.ವಿ ಬಂದಿದೆ. ನೋಡು ಬಾ..." ಎಂದು ನನ್ನ ಸ್ನೇಹಿತರು ಕಿರುಚುತ್ತಾ ಓಡಿದರು.....