Dawdling along the Homestretch

 

     Dawdling along the Homestretch

 

Friends have become weak & senile

The ones who excelled during adolescence

Walk, they do but slowly, like me for a wee while

Many are gone ,  become only reminiscence

 

Some sport  a paunch

Others  have  silvery hair

Some carrying ailments ,staying staunch

Responsibilities on each demanding care

 

Pain in the body for some

Disturbed mind sparing none

Solace yet to come

Despair & gloom one has to shun

 

 

Run, we could  all day

Stumble in walk we do now, visibly drawn

Nobody has time today

The shadow of pain  reflecting in eyes forlorn

 

Connection with friends, I should not have let to fall

Often  the grief & sadness one has to swallow

Some comfort albeit small, thinking of achievements if at all

Command of Providence we have to follow

 

The heart melts leafing through Albums old

Young friends of yesteryear look  haggard & bleak

Yet remain precious as gold

Worth the images that we peek

 

 Time’s running out,

Faster in the coming days

What remains is  a Bonus shout

Beaming out  energizing rays

 

 

So friends, give away what you have to

 Finish what you need to

Life free from anxiety , we all look forward to

Pretty much like the younger days too

 

Family, relatives  we all love

But,what,s special with friends, memories divine

In the dusk of our lives we look up & above

Ever near when the son doesn’t shine

 

In the final segment and trends

My only prayer is while I live

 “God make me worthy of my friends”

Since I have nothing better  to give

Note:  After this experiment,wonder if lines flowing from heart to pen (no mind in between), directly jotted makes a poem. Clarity  & Refinement  seem to be the crux. But how, where & when to attain that ?

Exemplars & Opulence

 

Exemplars & Opulence

Nagaraju & Suma live in their typically rural tiled home at Doora, a scenic village, about 22 Kms from Mysore off HD Kote Road. Now, the couple can easily be classified as “Adarsha Dampathigalu”.  They strongly believe in the concept of Sustainable Living and practice it sincerely. Nagaraju owns four acres of land. His other possessions include three native breed milch cows, two buffaloes, a pair of strong bullocks, a large brood of cocks,hens & chicken which strut all around the house in gay abandon as if it is their own, a pair of goats permanently tied to one pillar of the courtyard .The couple works from 5.00 in the morning to 4.30 in the evening taking care of their precious possessions and tilling land .Both are graduates in commerce.

Their only son was born born and brought up in these surroundings.

Public transport being notoriously fickle, he travelled 45 Kms everyday  to college in Goods trucks, in trucks carrying Sheep & chicken, in goods auto and in every conceivable mode of transport. With the family discipline deeply ingrained in him, he completed M.BA and landed a job in Bangalore. The parents found a suitable bride for him. In course of time he clinched a lucrative job at Qatar. Initially Nagaraju held reservations about his Son “Going away to a strange World” .But,Suma was thrilled. The couple  continued to toil.

The Son’s family frequently stayed in touch with the parents. They invited them to Qatar to spend time with them . Suma broached the topic several times. Nagaraju worried about his voiceless “Children” & his beloved farm wouldn’t relent.Suma’s brother living in the city promised to manage the household in their absence.Suma’s persistence ultimately paid off.                                                                                                                                    

The travelled to Qatar.  Their son lived on a tenth floor apartment in a residential complex in a busy part of Doha. Their Grand daughter  was a year and a half old then and was just learning to talk. Suma doted over her, teaching her rhymes in  Kannada.

In a casual conversation, Suma’s son talked about a lady who held  a luctative job and had been living there for the past fifteen years.whom he had met. He learned that she studied in the same college as Suma. She even vaguely remembered Suma. He invited her home to meet his mother. Suma  and the lady recognized each other instantly. They met frequently.

The friend invited Suma  to spend a weekend  at her  house.

She lived in a quieter area. She had rented the front portion of a Mansion owned by an Arab lady, a widow who lived with her grown up daughter and was a high ranking official in a petrochemical company.

Most Mansions owned by Arabs have a large separate parlour  in the front. It is where the visitors, usually the men folk, are entertained she explained to Suma. 

The landlady  had converted the parlour into a one bedroom living quarters. Suma’s friend lived there, while the lady of the house occupied the large portion  behind it. The landlady and her daughter lived, with a number of maids in attendance

Seeing the huge portion at the back Suma pleaded with her friend to take her to visit the landlady, so that she could admire her house. Her friend had described it as palatial.

 

 Friendly & Affable Suma and the gracious   landlady established an instant rapport with each other..

 

The pleasant Arabian lady, showed her around her house; the ladies parlor, the sitting area , the dining room. Suma  was awestruck  by the beautiful decor. She was stunned by the richness of the embellishments & furnishings.

 

Beyond the dining room was a large bedroom furnished with queen sized cot, dressing table, cabinets and a writing-table painted sparkling white.  There were drapes on the windows  There was also an air conditioner and a large television.

 

It was the most gorgeous room that Suma had ever seen seen. .

Wide eyed in amazement, Suma exclaimed  “Wow! your bedroom is so glamorous !”

  The landlady gave  Suma and her friend an amused look and smiled.

And then she said “

 “This is my maids’ room!” .Suma’s jaws dropped. Rendered speechless, she staggered and  almost       fell.

 ___________________________________________________________________________

Epilogue: When I was serving as managing committee member of KSCA, I had utilized the services of my photographer friend Mahesh frequently to cover events. We had also done a few Wildlife tours together. He was aware of my fondness for forests and countryside and narrated stories about a village named Doora, not far from the city . Surrounded by lush greenery and a large lake at the outskirts it was an ideal birding hotspot. Upon request Mahesh assured to take me there. He said his Sister lived in the village.

Armed with camera, we arrived at his sister’s home early one morning.  We were accorded a very warm welcome and Mahesh’s sister treated us to a tall brass tumbler of coffee prepared with fresh cow milk and sweetened  with Jaggery.  Coffee never tasted better. After visiting their farm and spending time on the shores of the lake we returned to the city late evening.

 

 The heart craved for more visits. About two year later Mahesh & I made the second trip.His Sister and Brother-in-law had just returned from Qatar after visiting their son. Even as we were entering the house, I saw Changes. Doors and windows were curtained.  An artificial leather sofa had replaced the long wooden bench in the courtyard.  No sign of Poultry pottering around or the goats. Even as I was eagerly waiting for the tumbler of Fresh cow’s milk Jaggery Coffee, it arrived……not in that shining  Brass tumbler but in ceramic Cup and Saucer. The sister proudly informed Mahesh that she now had a granite kitchen top and induction stove  We went to the farm to meet the Brother-in law. He was busy tilling his land with a mechanized Diesel hand tiller. But, the bullocks were still there, tied to a tree, obviously enjoying their retirement.

 

However the lake was the same. With recent heavy rains it was brimming .We managed to get  many beautiful clicks. As we drove back, thoughts rankled the mind: Are the last vestiges of unspoiled nature and sustainable living being eroded? The obvious answer is a painful one to digest.

I am left wondering: Is there something very wrong with mother earth that we are abandoning her?

What will awaken all humans on the planet to the fact that we are living on Mother Earth

 

P.S: All my attempts & methods to brew the”Doora” brand of coffee  have failed.

 

 

 

The Dying & The Bereaved

 

The Dying & The Bereaved

Many years after finishing School, I was suddenly contacted by a class mate who urged me to join in get-together of our batch mates. Having totally lost contact, I hesitated and evaded dozens of ‘Meeting’ invites with various improbable reasons. Cornered and tormented by repeated calls, I eventually attended my first class reunion.  Contrary to  expectations ,my classmates still retained their original personality . Only  physical appearances had changed due to age.  It was quite a friendly group .I began attending more reunion meetings and we even  met  our teachers a few times  and discussed matters related to the School. My proposal to the Group to involve & help out  in the School  Annual day extracurricular activities was well received.

We were the same set of members for many years, till we all got married & our children grew up. Yet we parents retained the bonhomie   and would occasionally visit each other’s houses. We had our own outings.

In short we strengthened our school day friendship.

Now it is many,many  years since we finished School. We have all gone our own ways. But our stint together evokes happy memories        .

Mostly!

One person who was a hero of our association was Nagendra Prasad. He was a jovial person, a prankster who could regale the group with witty anecdotes. A character who  could never be forgotten.

He and his wife would invite us home often and serve us scrumptious meals.  He was quite a windbag and could talk on any topic under the sun.

Two other girls (Oops! ladies) in our group Mrs.Padma & Mrs.Ratna were as witty as him. Together the threesome could  stir up a Laugh Riot with comical tales.

In time the group thinned out and scattered.  Some migrated to other parts of the state,country and world. The interactions  occurred far in between

 I totally lost contact with the group. Only Ratna made the occasional call mainly because her Brother’s birth date coincided with mine.

During one of her calls a couple of years later, Ratna informed that Padma’s Husband had died and that she had stopped  communicating with her & everyone else.

She informed that   Nagendra Prasad   had gone to a book shop one evening.and had seen Padma there. She was at the Spiritual/Philosophy section checking out on a book titled “ Life and after”, apparently immersed in her own sorrow.

He had wanted to go over and talk to her. But seeing the book that she  was reading, he had not wanted to intrude. He told Ratna that his “ heart had bled seeing her seek answers to questions, in the philosophy section of a book shop.”

Nagi himself had contracted a terminal disease . & was slowly dying.With extreme trepidation Ratna had broken the sad news about it to Padma earlier

Years  passed. One day Out of the blue, I received a most unexpected call. It was Padma. After exchanging pleasantries,  she poured her heart out:

She told me that Nagi  was  younger than her. It was unimaginable   that such an effervescent man as him, who was personification of life, was counting his days.

She wished she had visited him when he was sick. But she had no courage to see him     on his death bed.A few months later she had seen his obituary announcement in a newspaper.

“Whenever I see the book ‘ Life and after ’ I had bought that day at the book shop, where Nagi  had not wanted to disturb me, I think of him and all my dear classmates. I wonder if Nagi would have found out for himself  the answer” her voice trailed off.

Later, I called Ratna. I learned that Padma had called her too after a very long time. She had expressed the same things that she had told me.

The two phone calls, decades after parting with my classmates brought back memories of the happy,carefree student days. A deep yearning to meet friends kept gnawing at me.

This time around, It was me who made the calls for organizing a class reunion which for various reasons never happened.

 

 I often think about that disconcerting question and the answer still eludes me.

 

 “After life, what ? Is there Life After Death?’

    Is there??  

 

Sorcery,Serenity & Mind

 

Sorcery, Serenity & Mind

This happened a long time ago; almost 28 years .

 Satish aged 17, son of my close friend Kamlesh, had staggered home, to his room and lay down on the cot. His parents assumed that he was tired and gave no further thought  to the matter.

But, he never turned up for Dinner. His mother noticed he had developed high fever.Later that night he went into bouts of delirium   and began babbling incoherently. His mother stayed with him the whole night and had informed Kamlesh that she held his hand the whole night. to comfort him.

Next morning, Kamlesh had rushed Satish  to their family Physician. His medications brought the  fever down. But soon after  Kamlesh left home for work the fever flared up again.

Kamlesh  had to rush back home, because Satish’s started shivering and convulsions had returned.   Further he found that his son was behaving like a small child pleading with his father not to leave  his bedside.Kamlesh also noticed that  his son was more restful as long as he was by his  side. It was a peculiar situation .

But, it was not possible for Kamlesh to remain   at Satish’s side always. Medical experts were consulted and medicines were administered. But even after five days the situation had not improved. The incoherent mumbling at night had only increased and he suffered intermittent bouts of fever.

Kamlesh’s mother-in-law had arrived from  Nanjangud to comfort her grandson. After seeing his  plight, she informed Satish’s mother that he might have been terrified after seeing “Something” ghoulish. What she had actually meant was he could be “Possessed”

She had persuaded her daughter and son-in-law to seek the services of the “Guddappa” from Thagaduru village in whom she placed unquestioned trust.

It was at this stage that Kamlesh requested me to meet him.  He narrated the events and enquired if I would be able to fetch the Guddappa from Thagaduru.

Now, Guddappa  also known as Devara Guddappa or Bettada Guddappa   is a tradition  in practice in rural households of  old Mysore region where a male family member offers himself to be in service of  the family deity , worships at  the temple in his native village and is revered as  a godman’. Like any other villager  they eke out a living as petty shop owners, vendors ,farm help etc;. They display long matted hair and besides the Vibhuti stripes on the forehead, have similar stripes stretching from the corner of their eyes to the ears. On special, festive occasions when they are on “Duty” they sometimes wear Ochre robes, Sport mysterious facial expression .The average simple villagers see “Guddappanavaru” as   Godman & messenger of God

His name was ‘Kalaiah’ . A village tea shop owner, he offered himself to the village deities “Thagdurayya ” &  Hattidevamma”,and proudly boasted about his devotion which helped   in driving out evil spirits. I found he was just another  village yokel and detected nothing spectacular .Driving back to Mysore with him  on  the back seat (he insisted)   “ Why on earth are Kamlesh and wife, both well educated and knowledgeable employing this unlettered tea shop owner  to treat their son. Have they gone bonkers?” I thought.

As I was helping him get out of the car at Kamlesh’s house, Guddappa, stared intently at my face and  in a strange sing-song  croaking  voice said “ಇವನೇನು ಮಾಡಬಲ್ಲ ಎಂಬ ಯೋಚನೆಯೇ ಮಾದೇವ”  and briskly walked into the house.

Guddappa  sat before Satish, he transformed from a village tea vendor into a convulsing, shrieking spook. With bloodshot eyes, hair flying around  he swayed from side to side mumbling   continuously.                                                                                                               

 He spoke alternately in whispers and in a crescendo .It was hard to decipher whether he was singings, or reciting prayers

He commanded Kamlesh to place his palm on Satish’s forehead. His squawking and wheezing was scary. It was at that moment that Kamlesh decided enough was enough

Guddappa collected his emolument and nonchalantly got into my car!

 After some Casual conversation while driving back, he suddenly drifted into his trance mode and reeled off my personal details and certain random past family events.

Thanking me for driving him to his village, the, Guddappa came over to the Driver’s side door, and looking intently at me said “ದೇವರ ರೂಪವನ್ನು ನೋಡಲು ಈ ಕಣ್ಣು  ಸಾಕಾಗುವುದಿಲ್ಲ ಮಾದೇವ .ಸಾಮಾನ್ಯ ಬುದ್ಧಿಯಿಂದ ಅದನ್ನು ರೂಪಿಸಲು  ಆಗುವುದಿಲ್ಲ .ಎಂದಾದರೂ ದೇವರ ಆಜ್ಞೆ  ಆಗುವುದು  ಮಾದೇವ . ಅದರ ಅರ್ಥವೇನೆಂದು  ತಿಳಿವುದು  ಮಾದೇವ  .ಒಲುಮೆ ಮದ್ದು ಕೊಟ್ಟು ನಿನ್ನ ,ವಲಿಸಿ ಕೊಂಡು ಹೋಗ್ತಾನೆ ಮಾದೇವ…………….ಗುದ್ದಪ್ಪನ ಮಾತು ಗುರಿ ತಪ್ಪದು ಮಾದೇವ ” . With a faint sarcastic smile he  walked away..

The incidents were soon forgotten ……… until I met Satish a couple of weeks later.

After exchanging pleasantries, I prodded  him with a few questions .  As if on cue he narrated the incidents that occurred on that fateful day;

 He had felt better after Guddappa left. The shivering and delirium had vanished. He was able to resume normal activities. Then he recounted the events. 

It was a dull and cloudy afternoon with frequent spells of rain. He was on his way to meet   his friend  (Girlfriend as I later gathered) at a famous restaurant .As he was trying to cross the busy road ,  a speeding bike come straight at him. Trying to avoid being hit he jumped forward , slipped and fell flat on his face on the Road. To his horror a truck approaching from the other side passed over him as he lay prone. .He blacked out. Some good Samaritans lifted him to the footpath and revived him. He learnt that the wheels of the truck  ran on either side of his body. He had a providential escape, Cold, Shivering in fright he somehow managed to reach home. He thought he was alright.But then,   delayed reaction and trauma set in.

I often wonder what happened that day. The mind is more powerful than we presume. During introspection following   a near fatal accident, the mind goes into delirium and evokes  various  symptoms. That is when the necromancers, sorcerers, Guddappas ,keen observers of people’s behaviour, do their sorcery and heal the afflicted person.

I don’t believe that the Guddappa exorcised any spirit from the boy’s body. I am unconvinced about the incident.

A good psychiatrist would have healed him, without the hullabaloo, and commotion

What a graceful thing it would have been. Without attracting the curious stares of the neighbours.

If only Satish had confided in his parents??     If only…......

 

Epilogue:: The words that Guddappa spoke to me, and certain observations he made about myself and a few incidents in the family were rather disconcerting. His words and neuroticism continued to trouble the  mind. Later he continued to appear in my dreams, I repeatedly heard the same lines .An year later it stopped.

However, on 7^th of January this year the family had to endure the pain of a terrifying & abnoxious incident. It was difficult to fight the  despondence.  Guddappa and his words came back in the dreams only to disappear by the month end. I do not know the connection nor the reason for the recurrence.  Strangely ,I desired to meet him one more time. Enquiry revealed that he had left Thagaduru some five years back. I made no further attempts.

But, the episode has provided enough motivation  to recollect & reproduce the weird experience.