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ಸೇಲ್

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ಎಲ್ಲೆಲ್ಲೂ ಹಬ್ಬ ಭರ್ಜರಿ ಮಾರಾಟ - ಸೀರೆ ಯಿಂದ ಚಡ್ಡಿಯ ತನಕ ಗೊಂಬೆಯಿಂದ ಗಾಡಿಯ ತನಕ ೫೦-೬೦-೭೦ ಪ್ರತಿಶತ ಕಡಿತ   ನಾನು ಅಲ್ಲೆಲ್ಲ ಹುಡುಕಿದೆ ಎಲ್ಲೆಲ್ಲ ಹುಡುಕಿದೆ ಒಂದು ಚೂರು ಖುಷಿ, ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ನೆಮ್ಮದಿ, ಇಷ್ಟೇ ಇಷ್ಟು ಸಮಾಧಾನ   ಸಿಗಲೇ ಇಲ್ಲ ಎಲ್ಲೂ ಸಿಗುತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ -ಸ್ಟಾಕ್ ಇಲ್ಲ  ಯಾವಾಗ ಬರುವದೋ ಗೊತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ  
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ತಾಯಿ ದೇವರೆಂದು

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ತಾಯಿ ದೇವರೆಂದು ವೇದ ಬಾಯಿಬಿಟ್ಟು ಹೇಳುತಿಹುದು ತಾಯಿ ದೇವರೆಂದು ಹಿರಿಯರೆಲ್ಲರರಿವರು ತಾಯಿ ದೇವರೆಂದು ಹಿರಿಯರೆಲ್ಲರರಿವರು ಮನೆಯೇ ಮೊದಲ ಪಾಠಶಾಲೆ ಜನನಿ  ತಾನೇ ಮೊದಲ ಗುರುವೂ ಜನನಿಯಿಂದ ಪಾಠ ಕಲಿತ ಜನರು ಧನ್ಯರು ಘನತೆಯಿಂದ ಅವರು ಬಾಳ್ವರೆನುತ ನುಡಿವರು ಹೊಟ್ಟೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಹೊತ್ತು ತಾಯಿ ಬೆಟ್ಟದಷ್ಟು ಕಷ್ಟವನ್ನು ಗಟ್ಟಿ ಮನದಿ ತಾಳ್ವಾಳಲ್ತೆ ಕಂದಗೋಸುಗ Disclaimer : I do not remember all the lines of this poem and there may be some mistakes too. This was the poem we studied in our school days and never realized its significance that time. Now it becomes so evident and it looks like a universal truth. Yes mother is God to all of us. Who is the poet of this wonderful poem? I have to ask my mom. Yes, my mom was our google before google was even founded. She knows everything - not just things around the house. She knows and knew literature, politics, science, on the whole everything under the sun. Not only to us, even the children in our street would come to her for essay writing or for debate writing.  Till we were in 10 class, s...
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Aam baat

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I was trying to pluck a mango. Not from neighbor's house. Nor from someone's house on the way. The mango had grown in our own garden. Because my husband worked hard and built a beautiful house. Planted two mango trees. Religiously watered them. Fanatically protected them.   Now the trees are 20 feet tall almost and have blossomed into hundreds and hundreds of sweet wonders.  Which made me busy this year. Since the last 3 months, I have been screeching, roaring, shouting at little kids who love the taste of raw, sour mangoes, which are luring them while they innocently were walking like little angels. No, no, I still could not reach the decibels of news anchors of our nation. But almost there. See, I would sit by the window, which was kept open for the sole purpose of keeping an eye on little thieves. The moment I see the leaves of the tree shake a little bit, I run to the window, strengthening my vocal cords. "Yaarada" (Who is there). Children run away. With the stick...
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