Life is an illusion

  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