Life is an illusion

Mobiles do take revenge, you know. How else do you explain the song streaming app filling my daily list with songs of all languages except the two I listen - Hindi and Kannada? I as a rule click on no button for any popups on screen. So no location services for any app - not even for maps. Unless I am desperate and do not understand how to get home.( not spiritually). Unless the app knows where I live, how can it determine my language preference? That's one way of looking at it.  But the app must know, if it knows anything about our country, that all of us love Hindi music. Why no Hindi songs, spotify? But the positive effect of this is, I have started liking Carnatic music, with its Tamil songs - even its heart wrenching renditions - no disrespect intended.   Some times even the nature takes revenge, I suspect. How else do you explain, the chilly, drizzly morning when one day I decide to venture out and contrasted by clear, colorfully adorned skyline in the evening?  Ashte, hence

 I heard about this author in a podcast. Thought worth finding out more about him. Shulz was a twentieth century writer from small town called Dragobych in Poland. Now this town is located in Ukraine.  A jewish writer in the world war era - from Poland. You do the math. Yes, he was brutally shot by a Nazi officer in November 1942 at the age of 40. Shulz was born to a middle class Jewish family. Father was a shop keeper and mother was a house wife.  He studied architecture for a short period of time. Then he started teaching art in a school in his home town.  According to one of his students, he was very shy and timid, lacking any form of self confidence. Knowing that he will be surely bullied by students, he adopted story telling in class. Made of mythological stories, which completely engrossed the students and kept Shulz out of trouble from these young ruffians.  In his free time, he would draw. But his literary interest, he kept hidden from the world.  Self portrait by Bruno Shulz  

I started listening to some book podcast by BBC where they introduce authors and their books. Podcasts unlike reading may feel they are closer but they are not. When you are multitasking, you may not have heard some phrases, or not understood clearly. With no google under your finger tips, you will not look it up.  So I keep on hearing about these great authors and their great works and then forget their names. May be I should stick listening to songs instead. They are soothing at least.  But the OTT serials I am watching are "interesting". I watched one season of American Horror story and many episodes of Patriot. Horror story is filled with endless murders by ghosts in a house called by locals as murder house . But I think there is lack of suspense. I remember Hindi movies about ghosts with eerie musics and sudden appearances and such things. May be that was my expectation. I did not like the show so much but have a go at it if you want to watch ghost stories.  And this spy

ಬಾಲ್ಕನಿಯ ಹೂಗಳು  ಬಟ್ಟೆಯ ಕ್ಲಿಪ್ಪುಗಳು ಅಮ್ಮನ, ಅಪ್ಪನ, ಅಕ್ಕನ ಬಣ್ಣಬಣ್ಣದ ಅಂಗಿ, ಲುಂಗಿ, ಕಾಚಗಳು ಒರೆಸಿ ಒರೆಸಿ ಕರಕಲಾದ ಮೋಪುಗಳು. ಸತ್ತೇ ಹೋಗುತ್ತೇನೆಂದು ಧಮಕಿ ಹಾಕುತ್ತಿರುವ ಚಿರಿರಿ ಎನ್ನುವ ತುಳಸಿ ಪ್ರಕೃತಿಯೋ , ಅದು ನಮಗೆ ನಸೀಬವಿಲ್ಲ ಬಿಡಿ.

You know about mails sent by  banks with some encrypted pdf files. And the banks are  kind enough to send the format of the password with the file? Yeah, I today received such a mail with an encrypted file, which when opened turned out to be blank - completely empty.  And yet another "encrypted" pdf file, which had dated information.  So much for the security! And digital India. And I am at fault too. I had recently installed gmail app (and then deleted it in the next 10 minutes) on my phone. Which might mean, the phone somehow had held on to my account information. And might have decided to give it out :).  To whomever it fancied. And when we are talking about untruth, the humans are no less at fault. The amount of truth they are willing tell you, depends on how much power you have and how much of it you display. (And you can't uninstall, reboot or factory reset humans. Sadly.) I accept, as I don't see the external world so much, these harsh realities of life are all

 Have you heard about Bhopal Union Carbide tragedy? Have you also heard about drug trials on humans and its consequences? Then you already know the story of OTT Hindi series "Human".  Add a few doses of super selfish villain with childhood trauma and some LGBTQ drama. That's it. Some deviations in this serial are both the super super selfish villain and LGBTQ person are both women and excellent doctors. And they manipulate the entire world with their professionalism and wily nature.  Dr. Gauri Nath is the head of a large hospital Manthan in Bhopal and her motto and inspiration was to help the victims of Union Carbide tragedy. As she was a victim herself - having lost her entire family and then being adapted by kind hearted doctor Nath.  And Dr. Saira Sabharwala is a very talented cardiac surgeon newly retired to her hometown. Dr. GauriNath has a need and means to know everything about everyone. How else can a person run such a large successful hospital and in the process

If you can't beat them, then copy them. Seems to be the newly learnt mantra of a certain AK. (And a certain RG’s new mantra? No new mantra. For he does not believe in moving away from sure path of self destruction.  But I stand corrected, he IS doing something with Jodo Yatra )  Because, in these difficult times, where people don't know whom or what to believe, and they are not shown the right path by any one; ideals like philanthropy, equality of all citizens, and helping the less fortunate may not work. Have not worked much so far. But propaganda sure does.  Do you find this concept funny? Or amusing at least? No?  But what certainly was funny according to the new lord of twitter and his company is, a post by a certain right leaning loudmouth who usually is an expert in spewing venom and trying to be on the right side of rulers  (doubly right!) was categorized as funny post by twitter. But what he wrote with images was not funny - not even according to him. He just wrote that

  This book by South African writer from Pretoria, Damon Galgut, is a story of two doctors in post apartheid South Africa in a semi-rural hospital.  The hospital was constructed by the home land and now is almost deserted.  There is not a single patient on many of the days. And there are just 4 doctors and one nurse who hasn't even completed his nursing exam. The villagers avoid this hospital because it represents to them, all that was wrong with apartheid, because it was constructed by a brigadier of the homeland. There to this hospital, comes a new dreamy eyed doctor Laurence who wants to change the world - make it a better place for everyone. He is here as part of mandatory community service. He wants to really help the people. But where are they? He is housed with another doctor Frank. Frank is middle aged, separated from his wife and disillusioned with the world. He has come to this bantuland, after his wife started having an affair with his best friend and left him. So of cou

 A new normal, post truth, world going haywire. Even these phrases are becoming cliche. Anywhere you turn, you see more and more scenes of human stupidity and human cruelty to fellow humans. Is this the meaning of yadavi kalaha?  Some people died. Some people protested and got arrested. Some people are in jail for no fault of theirs. You read this everyday, from everywhere. The so called democracies are electing and reelecting these fascist-ish governments again and again. Does that mean we, humans are so tired of complexities of modern life that we want some one to make all the decisions for us while we just close our eyes and pray to our favorite God? 

 Let me look at the currently reading list of mine. I am trying to read one Sanskrit book. In order to write some lessons (!) in Sanskrit. I am reading a book by Neel Mukherjee The lives of Others . And I am trying to finish the book Dubliners since a very long time by listening to it. And The beekeeper of Aleppo in Kindle.  Why? Because they are available in my favorite library. Internet. And I have sixteen hours of free time per day ;).   I recently completed the book A room with a view a novel by E.M.Forster 1908. And it was OK. The style was perfect. The characterization was beautiful.  But ending. No, I don't like those books which end with 'happily ever after'. Because if I know any thing after all these years, it is that happily is OK, but ever after is a myth. No couple lives happily ever after. So, spare me.  The story revolves around a girl Lucy who goes on a tour to Florence with a chaperone - her cousin who she feels is unnecessarily over protective.  In the hot

The religions and philosophies have got one thing right. Everything is an illusion. Nothing is real.  Including all these words told in the scriptures. That is the conclusion I am drawing from trying to translate Viveka chudamani and then also from reading about fictitious religion called Bokononism in a novel Cat's cradle.  At least that book on that religion tells out right 'every thing in this book is a lie' .  Thank you for being honest! Unlike books of religions we do have currently. Because people are miserable and there is no way of alleviating their pain, some concept called religion was founded. Which tried to make people moral, righteous and to some extent peaceful. How successful are the religions in making people moral, righteous or peaceful is clearly evident in the society. Now more than ever! Let us look at a very rough analogy. Tell a child not to snatch others' toys. It asks why shouldn't it. You tell it, because mom says/dad says. And the child

 Normally the type of books I read rarely have a story. (That's one of the reasons I can't seem to complete most of them. Though no one dictated me that I should read only books by old, award winning authors). What they have is more of a feeling and an emotion. That of extreme sadness. And they also will have memories. Sad memories. Of life wasted. (The last part is mine ) So when I started reading (online ofcourse) Kurt Vonnegaut's Cat's cradle, I was in for a happy surprise. This science fiction has a fast moving story. And excitement - ish.  The story of the father of Atomic bomb Dr. Hoenikkar. Of course fictional.  But many of his associates (who were still alive) feel that  he is not a saint and nor a God's gift to the mankind, blah blah blah. He is just dead inside - they felt.  And like a typical scientist, when he thinks of some thing, he will invent it. For example ice nine. Ice nine is some kind of ice which is having a melting point of hundred fourteen de

 A real gem. What else do you expect from a master writer, Nobel prize laureate Herman Hesse?  I am talking about the book 'Narcissus and Goldmund'.  When I first started listening to the book, I expected the usual physical attraction between the student Goldmund and the new teacher Narcissus in the cloister. I couldn't have been more wrong. Though they liked each other very much, it was great friendship and nothing more. Friendship because of the exact opposite natures of the two. Narcissus is an ideal teacher in such a  abbey, a well read man, a pedagogue, a person who is willing to dedicate his life to the God and his teachings and to the abbey of course.  But Goldmund was a person who thinks with his heart. Interested in Art, music and in nature. Who would have been miserable if he continued his life in that institute. He leaves the cloister and goes in search of meaning of life. He leads the life of a vagrant. Eating what he can, when some village lady gave him a meal,

 I tried writing some Sanskrit grammar posts, then I tried translation of Viveka chudamani. Then suddenly excited I tried translating other, shorter works of Shankaracharya. And now I am realizing I am much worse than a set of blind men trying to describe an elephant. First of all, I am not interested in that elephant. I am not exactly a religious person. (any religion!).  Then why should I spend my precious 16 hours trying to translate deep philosophy I can't fathom or just namastuti which I certainly dislike. I need to give up and use that time in some good works like reading hateful twitter feeds or watching silly drama on Netflix.  By the way, I did finish that book 'The grapes of wrath'. Wow! It's long time since we care to listen to such people who struggle to eat one meal or to feed their children.  Once upon a time, there would plenty of such films in Kannada and Hindi. Poor hero with a blind mother and no food at home. Rich haughty heroine who insults and il

Do you  remember handbills? The small chits of paper  given to you advertising  their shops etc.? Instead of these ever snoopy, unstoppable sms and emails used nowadays?  Have you ran behind the people who were throwing these handbills from an auto? To catch more of these? You might not have unless your childhood was in sixties and seventies. Very, very long ago.  Anyways, these handbills were seen by Joads. Like so many other farmers in Oklahoma and other eastern states. And these handbills said "Ten thousand workers needed in orange/grape/peach farms." It was like a godsend for these people who lost their livelihoods because of dust bowl. They thought that they will go to California and will work hard in these farms. And give a better future to their families. They dreamed of proverbial land of milk and honey. So Joads - Pa, Ma, unwilling Grandpa , Grandma, two kids Winfield and Ruthie, Al, Tom, Rose of Sharon and her husband and uncle John started their long and tiresome j

 In TV serials, women with some devious motives, spill some liquid on the floor and then apologize profusely, saying 'Oh, sorry, what a klutz I am'. But I don't need any devious motives to be klutzing. I keep spilling something or the other in the kitchen on a daily  regular basis. It's not for even lack of confidence.  It would be ridiculous to even use that phrase, after almost thirty years in the kitchen, wouldn't it?  Just yesterday I spilled almost half a liter of milk. But it was not exactly my fault though. I kept milk for boiling and left it alone, to pursue my other important work (netflixing). And milk never likes the idea of being left alone - on the stove. It spilled, and spilled and spilled all over the kitchen platform and floor and everywhere. May be it wanted to send a very happy message - see how prosperous our town, state and country is. Good old, patriotic milk! Took me an hour to clean the mess.  Last week it was the turn of sambar - curry. I man

 ನಿನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪು, ಇನ್ನೂ ಚೆನ್ನಾಗಿ ಮೈ ಮುಚ್ಚಿಕೋಬೇಕಿತ್ತು. ಅವರು ಸೀಟಿ ಹೊಡೆಯುವಂತೆ ಮಾಡಿದೆಯಲ್ಲ, ನಿನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪು ನಿನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪು, ಕತ್ತಲೆ ಆದ ಮೇಲೆ ಹೊರ ಹೋದ್ಯಲ್ಲಾ ಅವರು ಅಸಹ್ಯ ವರ್ತಿಸುವಂತೆ ಮಾಡಿದೆಯಲ್ಲಾ, ನಿನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪು. ನಿನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪು ,ಕಾಗದ ಪತ್ರ ಸರೀ ಇದೆ ಎಂದು ಮನೆ ಕೊಂಡ್ಯಲ್ಲ   ಅನಧಿಕೃತ  - ಕೋರ್ಟು ಕಛೇರಿ ಸುತ್ತಬೇಕು. ಎಲ್ಲಿ ಬುಲ್ ಡೋಜರ್ ಬರತ್ತೋ  ನಡುಗುತ್ತಾ ಇರಬೇಕು, ನಿನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪು ನಿನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪು, ಸೇತುವೇ ರಿಪೇರಿ ಮಾಡಿದ್ದಾರೆ  ನೋಡಲು ಬಂದ್ಯಲ್ಲಾ ಸುಮ್ಸುಮ್ನೆ ಸತ್ ಹೋದೆ. ನಿನ್ನ ತಪ್ಪು. 

ತಲೆ ಬರಹ ನೋಡಿ, ಪ್ರಕಟಿಸಿರೋ ದಿನಾಂಕ ನೋಡಿ, ನಾನು ಕನ್ನಡ, ಕನ್ನಡ ಜನ ಭಾರೀ ದೊಡ್ಡ ಖತರಾದಲ್ಲಿ ಇದ್ದಾರೆ ಅಂತೀನಿ ಅಂದ್ಕೋಬೇಡಿ. ನಿಜವಾದ ತಲೆ ಬರಹ - ನನ್ನ ಕಂಪ್ಯೂಟರ್ ಕನ್ನಡದ ಕಷ್ಟ .  ಸುಮಾರು ಕಷ್ಟ ಪಟ್ಟು ಬಿಟ್ಟೆ ಕನ್ನಡ ಮತ್ತು ಹಿಂದಿ ಲಿಪಿಗಳನ್ನು ನನ್ನ ಲಿನಕ್ಸ ಕಂಪ್ಯುಟರ್ನಲ್ಲೆ ಹಾಕೋಕೆ.  ಅಂಗ್ಡೀಗ್ ಹೋಗಿ ಐನೂರು ರೂಪಾಯಿ ತೆತ್ತು ಕೆಲ್ಸಾ ಮಾಡಿಸ್ಕೋಬೇಕಿತ್ತು, ಅಂತೀರಾ? ಅ) ನಮ್ಮನೇಲಿ ದುಡ್ಡಿನ ಗಿಡ ಇಲ್ಲ ಬ)ಗೂಗಲ್ ಇನ್ಯಾತಕ್ಕಿದೆ ಮತ್ತೆ?   ಗೂಗಲ್ ಮಾಡಿದೆ. ಸಾವಿರ ಸಲಹೆ ಸಿಕ್ಕಿತು. ಅದರಲ್ಲಿ ಒಂದ್ ಹತ್ತು ಸರಿಯಾಗಿದ್ದದ್ದು. ಅದೂ ಕೆಲಸಾ ಮಾಡ್ತಾ ಇಲ್ಲ.  ಒಂದ್ ಹತ್ತು ಪಾಕೇಜ ತೆಗೆದು, ಮತ್ತೆ ಹಾಕಿ ಲಾಸ್ಟಲ್ಲಿ ವರ್ಕ ಆಯಿತು. ಅದೇನೋ ibus-m17n ಪಾಕೇಜು  (ಭಾರತೀಯ ಭಾಷೆಗಳಿಗೆ) ಅಂತಪ್ಪ. ಅದನ್ನೂ ಹಾಕ್ದೆ.  ಈಗ ಸ್ಟೇಟಸ್ ಬಾರ್ ನಲ್ಲಿ ಎರಡೆರಡು ಭಾಷೆಯ ಬಟನ್ ಇದೆ.  ಮೋರ್ ದ ಮೆರಿಯರ್ ಅಲ್ವಾ? ಆದ್ರೂ ಈ ನಮ್ಮ ಭಾಷೆ, ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಬರಿಯೋಕೆ ಕಷ್ಟ. ಇಂಗ್ಲೀಷ್ ಬರೀವಾಗ ಜಿಂಕೆ ಸ್ಪೀಡಲ್ಲಿ ಬರೆಯೋಳು ಇದ್ರಲ್ಲಿ ಆಮೆ ಸ್ಪೀಡು. ಅದೂ ಯಾರೋ ಕೈ ಹಿಡಿದು ಎಳೀತಾ ಇದ್ದಂಗೆ ಬೇರೆ ಅನಿಸತ್ತೆ.  ಹೋಗ್ಲಿ ಬಿಡಿ.   ರಂಗಣ್ಣ ಹೇಳೋ ಹಾಗೆ ಮುಂದಕ್ ಹೋಗೋಣ.  ಹೇಗಿದೆ ನಿಮ್ಮನೆ ಟೀವಿ? ಸರಿಯಾಗೆ ಕೆಲ್ಸಾ ಮಾಡ್ತಾ ಇದೆಯಾ? ದಿನಾ ಮೂರೂ ಹೊತ್ತೂ ನಂಜು ಕಾರ್ತಾ ಇದೆ ತಾನೆ?  ಜನ ಎಲ್ಲಾ ಟೀವಿ ನೋಡೋದು ಇನ್ನೇನಕ್ಕೆ  ಅಂದ್ಕೊಂಡಿದೀರಾ? ಏನು ಊರು

 "chain se marane bhi nahi dete hain" (these people do not let me die in peace) this thought keeps bugging Ove again and again. The book is 'A man called Ove' by Fredrick Backman. Ove is middle aged Engineer who appears to others as grumpy old man. He has decided to die as there is no one who understands him, or  who needs him now. After his wife died six months ago.  The office where is spent one third of his lifetime, asks him to take retirement - to make way for younger people.  What will he do alone whole day? What is the purpose of his existence?  He better go and join his dear wife Sonja.  So he plans methodically, elaborately for his death - just like he plans everything else.  He fixes a hook on the roof, ties a rope with a noose to the hook. He covers the floor with mat as he doesn't want the police who will come later to spoil his floor.  Then he stands on a stool, ties the noose around his neck and kicks the stool. The end ? No. Unfortunately  not. He i

 When women world over (this part of the world) are busy preparing festival specials with lot of enthusiasm and devotion, I am trying to blog my meaningless blog. Nero?  It's difficult. But, who is stopping me from joining them and trying to make the best festival out of the situation?OK, ok, I will prepare one sweet and may be a kosambari. But later. First I need my daily cleansing.  Ha, I almost forgot. I watched the film Thappad yesterday. I know all the news and noise about the movie have long stopped. But when I watched a review about Kantara and heard about this film, decided why not.  Sirf, ek hi to thappad thi. It was just one slap. That's what everyone told Amritha when she was slapped by her rich, successful, loving (in his own way !) husband in a party. But her world is destroyed. She tells herself and everyone else that her husband does not have the right to slap her. Not even once. And starts divorce proceedings.  But her domestic help is being slapped every day b

 Ha, talk of over confidence. I have started blogging about Viveka chudamani. Well, you can also call it an oversight. When I started the project, I didn't realize that book has 580 shlokas in all. I thought, these shlokas are in Sanskrit, and of course I can borrow them from net. No need to type too. Translations - you get plenty in net. So I thought.  Wrong. Formatting the text was least of my problems. Translations - there are few sites where I obtained verse by verse translations - but all of them identical. Come on, where is the diversity? And the help I need in writing my kannada translation?  Any ways, this is obviously better than searching Netflix for new shows and realizing there aren't any worthwhile shows. And suits me too. A 60 year old, writing about philosophy is right. But 60 year old watching silly standup comedies and guffawing ! So wrong! If that person is female. Any way, let me take a breather from that "self realization" and be me for some time. 

 a) This blog is not my personal diary to vent out my feelings  b) But I can use generic terms so that I can be under the illusion of being heard - by 2 readers. Funny, how social media which is supposed to connect people is used to send messages. In strong words. Stolen from the internet. In the form of meme.  But as I don't have much social media presence, my preferred mode is blog. Was blog. But henceforth I intend to be more circumspect and be wary of  the causes and effects of message. In other news, I am becoming a fan of audible app. Aha, the luxury of reading a book, without actually reading a book. Just close your eyes and (pretend that) your mom (or dad) is reading  the book for you. (With a British accent)  I started with my free trial and have already listened to half of Narcissus and Goldmund by Hesse. And also a part of Anna Karenina. But Mrs Dolloway by Virginia Woolf is proving to be difficult to follow. I may need to keep the physical book next to me for reference

You have heard of the famous story of emperor's new clothes.  Two swindlers arrive at the capital city of an emperor who spends lavishly on clothing at the expense of state matters. Posing as weavers, they offer to supply him with magnificent clothes that are invisible to those who are stupid or incompetent. The emperor hires them, and they set up looms and go to work. A succession of officials, and then the emperor himself, visit them to check their progress. Each sees that the looms are empty but pretends otherwise to avoid being thought a fool. Finally, the weavers report that the emperor's suit is finished. They mime dressing him and he sets off in a procession before the whole city. The townsfolk uncomfortably go along with the pretense, not wanting to appear inept or stupid, until a child blurts out that the emperor is wearing nothing at all. The people then realize that everyone has been fooled. Although startled, the emperor continues the procession, walkin

I had some idea in my mind - about a blog post - slightly poetic - very much political. But in Hindi. The words stuck in my mind were Hindi.  It started some thing like this - Ham muft me bantenge - ghar ghar me - gaon gaon me - shahar shahar me - muft me bantenge - nafrat bantenge. But I decided against writing it because a) it was in Hindi - which is neither my mother tongue nor a language I am fluent at. b) And most importantly, this is not a time for political posts. Ham to kayar hain hi. It is funny how the words which came to mind were Hindi. I read English, watch most series in English,  speak Kannada. But I think some things in Hindi. Very strange.  I tried translating them to Kannada without much success. Ok, today's post is not about all those useless things. It is about a serial called Hundred . No, I am not writing about my math puzzle app called Hundred now called Shataka  which no one likes, no one comments, no one installs.  I am talking about a Hindi series in Hots

 It's like any other weekend.  Woke up at 6. With tea, spent an hour on e-commerce site. When I couldn't bear the boredom any more, went to coding. Did a little bit of tweak here and there. That thing worked and this thing crashed and it was 9.  Cooked dosas trying to have a conversation with spouse. But you know spouses, they prefer the words out of the mouths of news anchors - doesn't matter how venomous those words are.  Cleaned a little bit more for the weekend and then tried to fix the crashing code. When it couldn't be done, came to this blog. Added more photos to blog posts, hoping to recover some icloud space. I think it doesn't work! Should I pay for space? Ha, ha! Good joke! If I some how drag the time for 2 more hours, I can go back to some repeat show in Netflix or hotstar and spend rest of the day in some kind of stupor.  Yes, stupor. That's what we all want. Our means may be quite varied - TV, alcohol, God.  But the need is same - numbness.  Why? W

         पूछो न कैसे मैंने रेन बितायी  इक पल जैसे इक जुग बीता  जुग बीते पर नींद न आई  पूछो न कैसे मैंने रेन बितायी    These are the actual lyrics from a Hindi film song. The lyricist knows our pain!

Of late, I have started looking forward to cooking. What on the earth did happen? Did I suddenly develop an affinity to this feminine work? Nothing of that sort happened. I am just glad that I get an opportunity to get up from couch and do something. And not stare at the @$@#@ screen.  So I came to kitchen today and started thinking about tomorrow's breakfast. A lie! I would never. Planning a meal 12 hours ahead is not my cup of tea.  Take a look at my search history  (theoretically- because paranoid me periodically delete history) - you will find it filled with instant breakfast recipes.  No, I glanced at 4-5 bananas which are shouting that they are well past their prime. Black spots everywhere. I could try refrigerating them, but they will taste quite bad. So I decided banana dosa tomorrow and banana roti for dinner today. Soaked the rice for 1 and a half hour. Ground this rice with bananas and the batter will be nicely ready tomorrow. This morning, I had made ragi and wheat flo

 ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯ ಎನ್ನೋದು ತುಂಬಾ ಕ್ಲಿಷ್ಟವಾದ, ಗಹನವಾದ ವಿಷಯ. ಮಹಾತ್ಮಾ ಗಾಂಧಿಯಂತವರು ತಮ್ಮ ಇಡೀ ಜೀವನವನ್ನೇ ಮುಡುಪಾಗಿ ಇಟ್ಟಿದ್ದರೂ, ನಮಗೆಲ್ಲ ನಿಜವಾದ ಅರ್ಥದ ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯ ಕೊಡಿಸಲು ಅವರಿಂದ ಸಾಧ್ಯ ಆಗಲಿಲ್ಲ.  ಹಸಿವಿನಿಂದ ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯ,, ಮೂಢ ನಂಬಿಕೆಗಳಿಂದ ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯ,, ಬೇಧಭಾವಗಳಿಂದ ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯ,, ಜಾತಿವಾದದಿಂದ ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯ , ತಾರತಮ್ಯದಿಂದ ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯ ,  ಹಿಂಸೆಯಿಂದ, ಕ್ರೌರ್ಯದಿಂದ  ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯ -  ಇವೆಲ್ಲ ಬೇಕಲ್ಲವೇ? ಬೇಕಾ ? ನಮ್ಮ ಮನದಾಳದಿಂದ ಬರ್ಬೇಕು - 'ನಾವು ಯಾರೊಬ್ಬರ ಅಡಿಯಾಳಲ್ಲ, ನಮಗೆ ನಮ್ಮ ದೇಶದಲ್ಲಿ ಮಾತಾಡುವ, ಉಣ್ಣುವ, ಉಡುವ, ಓದುವ, ಬರೆಯುವ , ಕಲಿಯುವ ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯವಿದೆ. ಯಾರೊಬ್ಬರೂ ಈ ವಿಷಯಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ನಮ್ಮನ್ನು ನಿರ್ಬಂಧಿಸುವಂತಿಲ್ಲ, ನಿರ್ಬಂಧಿಸಕೂಡದು'.  ಆದರೆ ನಮ್ಮ ಮನದಲ್ಲಿ 'ಅವರು ಒಡೆಯರು, ನಾವು ಅವರ ಕೆಳಗಿನ ಆಳುಗಳು' ಎಂಬ ಭಾವನೆ ಹೋಗುತ್ತಾನೇ ಇಲ್ಲ. ಪ್ರಜಾಪ್ರಭುತ್ವ ಎಂದರೆ ಪ್ರಜೆಗಳಾದ ನಾವೇ ಪ್ರಭುಗಳು - ಇನ್ಯಾರೂ ಅಲ್ಲ ಎಂದು ನಾವು ಯೋಚಿಸುವದೇ ಇಲ್ಲ.  ಹಳೆಯ ಕಾಲದ ರಾಜರು ಹೋದರೂ, ನಾವೇ ಹೊಸ ಕಾಲದ ರಾಜರನ್ನು ನಿರ್ಮಿಸಿಕೊಂಡು . ಇಡೀ ದಿನ 'ಬಹು ಪರಾಕ್, ಬಹು ಪರಾಕ್' ಎನ್ನುತ್ತಲೇ ಇರುತ್ತೇವೆ.  ಕೆಂಪು ನಮನ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಾ, ಈ ಎಲ್ಲ ಸಾಮಾಜಿಕ ಅನಿಷ್ಟಗಳಿಂದ ಸ್ವಾತಂತ್ರ್ಯ ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಂಡೆ ಕೊಳ್ಳುತ್ತೇವೆ - ಎಂದು ಹೇಳುತ್ತಿದ್ದವನು, ಹೋರಾಟ ಮಾಡಿ

As I might have mentioned, I was fiddling around with an image editor app. And I have brought it to a stage, where I can draw circle, rectangle and other polygons. And erase, cut, copy and paste.  But then I came across a beautiful image editor for mobiles and tablets. Much better than GIMP too. Now I am ashamed of my image editor. It is primitive and may be needs modern libraries. So will work on it.  That will give me work for yet another month or two. Good, good.  Well, the editor - open source is too complicated. No patience. Why don't just keep netflixing? That is so much easier. And my own image editor is not so bad either. If only I could store all these draw operations in some kind of data structure - preferably a stack to undo previous action. I really can do that I think. May become less memory consumptive.  Naale. Right now, it is time for mindless blogging.

The reason behind this post (other than managing my dwindling cloud storage) is to tell you that you can draw these too. Me, the least artistic person drew these - by drawing a rangoli each for a month.  You can notice that these are all dotless rangolis. Free hand. Give a free hand to your imagination! And please the God (if one exists!) and yourself -immensely! Simple and pretty! If you add color, it will be beautiful. Can you get simpler than this! Cross hatching! Or, is it? Some kind of hatching for sure!  

A bunch of roses. Just for you! Made by HIM.  Papa (papa in kannada) flower taking pity on me, papa me! Look at the vibrant color! We call it 'gandhada (sandal wood) banna'. Is it Peach? This pretty pink hibiscus had really grown in  a pot. And this plant used to flower frequently too. Yes, I should click their photos when the plants are fresh from the nursery. And I successfully killed this plant too.  Uf! That was a good time, at least for my greedy eyes. Supposed to be natural insect killer. But the plant doesn't survive long with me :( Who can compete with these tall and majestic tree adorned with pink flowers. Beauty of Bangalore! Believe me. This huge jasmine climber was mine. And so fragrant !! Called Bhatkala mallige - might have originated from that town. What was this plant again? This is pepper corn grown in mom's house. Ah, spicy! Unnamed.flower Nakshatra huva told my sis-in-law. Comes in beautiful colors. Daily walk in the park. Miss those days. Zinnia. Aga

A rainbow is a special treat always. Look at the outer ring too!   But here sun is rising, into the silicon city and telling its folks "GET UP, YOU NEED TO BEAT THE TRAFFIC".