The Little Guest Who Stayed for Just 12 Hours

It was an ordinary morning, or at least that’s what we thought.

Around 8 AM, a little puppy suddenly walked into our house. There was nothing unusual about a puppy visiting a house, but the way this little fellow entered was something we couldn’t stop wondering about.

It didn’t behave like a stranger who had accidentally wandered into someone else’s home. Instead, it behaved as if it had been born and brought up there. No hesitation, no fear, no unfamiliarity. It simply made itself comfortable, as though it had returned home after a long day outside.

We welcomed our unexpected guest and offered it some milk. Without any hesitation, it happily drank the milk, as if this was part of its everyday routine.

And then the real entertainment began.

The puppy started playing with us, wandering around the house and following our movements. It listened whenever we spoke, almost as if it understood every word. Sometimes, it would look at us with such attention that we wondered whether it was actually trying to understand our conversations.

It behaved like a perfect gentleman — calm, friendly, playful and surprisingly well-mannered.

Within a few hours, it had somehow become one of us.

Nobody had invited it, nobody knew where it had come from, and yet it seemed to know exactly where it belonged.

By lunchtime, our little visitor had made itself completely at home. It ate its lunch and, without asking anyone’s permission, found a comfortable place to sleep inside the house.

Looking at it sleeping so peacefully, we couldn’t help but smile.

There was something amusing about the whole situation. How could a puppy, which had appeared out of nowhere, become so comfortable with a family it had supposedly never met?

We kept wondering where it had come from. Did someone nearby own it? Had it accidentally lost its way? Was it simply looking for food or shelter?

But none of these explanations seemed to answer the biggest question: Why was it behaving as though it had known us for months?

The afternoon passed, and our little guest continued enjoying its unexpected stay.

Then came the evening.

Around 7 PM, when we looked for the puppy, it was nowhere to be seen.

At first, we thought it might be wandering somewhere around the house. We checked the surroundings, looked in every possible corner and searched the nearby streets.

Nothing.

We started asking our neighbours and people we knew whether they had seen the puppy or knew where it belonged.

Nobody knew anything.

Nobody had seen it before. Nobody knew where it had come from. And nobody seemed to have noticed where it had gone.

It was as if the little fellow had appeared in our lives in the morning and disappeared into thin air by evening.

I kept thinking about it long after the search was over.

Where did it come from?
Why did it choose our house?
How did it become so comfortable with complete strangers?
Why did it stay for just twelve hours?
And where did it go after leaving us?

A puppy that had walked into our house like a family member had disappeared without even saying goodbye.

Perhaps it was just a hungry little soul looking for food, warmth and a safe place to rest. Perhaps our house was simply a stop along its journey.

Or perhaps, sometimes, life sends us the smallest visitors to remind us that happiness doesn’t always need an invitation, a reason or a long stay.

Some guests arrive unexpectedly, fill our home with joy, make us smile, and leave before we even realise how much we enjoyed their company.

That little puppy stayed with us for barely twelve hours.

But strangely, it left behind more questions than memories — and a story we will probably keep telling for a long time.

Some visitors don’t stay long enough to become part of our lives, but somehow they leave us wondering about them long after they’re gone.

The Economy Class

 I have a strange habit whenever I fly. I always choose the window seat. Not because I love looking at clouds. Not because I’m a photographer. And definitely not because I want to stare at an aircraft wing for three hours. I choose the window seat for one very specific reason: I want the middle seat to remain empty. Three seats. One passenger. Maximum comfort. In my mind, this is no longer economy class. This is economy class with premium intentions. So, on this particular night flight, I settled into my window seat, fastened my seat belt, and quietly prayed for an empty middle seat. For a while, everything looked perfect. Boarding was almost complete. The middle seat was still empty. I was already beginning to feel like I had successfully upgraded myself without paying anything. And then he appeared. An old man. He stopped beside my row, looked at the seat number, looked at me, looked at the seat again... and sat down. My heart sank. My imaginary business-class upgrade disappeared in three seconds. I smiled at him anyway. He smiled back. Then, without even introducing himself, he said, “You were hoping this seat would remain empty, weren’t you?” I stared at him. “How did you know?” He laughed. “Because I was hoping the same thing about your seat.” I burst out laughing. Okay. This man was interesting. The aircraft took off. I put on my headphones, started listening to Arijit Singh, and looked out of the window. It was a beautiful night. Beautiful in the sense that I could see absolutely nothing. Just darkness. Still, I kept staring outside, trying to find a star. The old man noticed. “What are you searching for?” “Stars.” He leaned slightly toward the window, studied the darkness for a moment, then looked back at me. “At this time of night? Even the stars have gone to sleep.” I laughed. Then he added, “Don’t worry. They’re still there. You just can’t see them.” I don't know why, but that sentence stayed with me. A little later, he asked, “How much did this ticket cost you?” I told him. His eyebrows went up. “For that price, they should at least have given you the middle seat for free.” I laughed and admitted that I had actually been hoping nobody would sit there. He looked at the tiny space between us. “You wanted three seats for one person?” “Yes.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Good. Keep that ambition. One day you’ll ask for the whole aircraft.” I laughed so loudly that the passenger in front turned around. The old man didn't care. He looked completely serious. Then dinner arrived. He opened his tray, stared at the food for a few seconds and whispered, “Do you know what I like about airplane food?” “What?” “It teaches you gratitude.” I smiled. “Really?” He nodded. “Because after eating this, you become grateful for whatever your wife cooks at home.” I nearly choked laughing. And somehow, after that, we just kept talking. He asked about my work. My travels. My family. I told him a little about everything. Unlike most strangers who ask questions just to speak again themselves, he actually listened. Then he asked me something unexpectedly simple. “Do you enjoy your life?” I paused. Before I could construct some intelligent answer, he interrupted. “Don’t think too much. It’s not an interview.” I laughed. “I think I do.” “Good.” He leaned back. “Then don’t ruin it by constantly wondering whether you're enjoying it enough.” For the first time, his voice sounded different. Still warm. Still playful. But softer. He looked out of the window. “You know what people do?” “What?” “They spend their whole lives waiting for the next thing.” He counted them slowly. “Next promotion.” “Next house.” “Next car.” “Next holiday.” “Next big achievement.” Then he looked at me. “And one day, they realise they spent the entire journey waiting to arrive.” I didn't say anything. Neither did he. For a few moments, there was only the low hum of the aircraft. Then suddenly he pointed at my headphones. “What are you listening to?” “Arijit Singh.” He nodded knowingly. “Ah.” “What?” “That explains it.” “Explains what?” “Why you were staring dramatically out of the window. You’re missing someone.” I laughed. “No! I’m happily married.” He smiled. “Then definitely you’re missing someone.” I shook my head. This man was impossible. As the flight continued, he told me stories about his younger days. Some were funny. Some were foolish. And some sounded as if they belonged to another lifetime entirely. Then, almost casually, he said, “When I was your age, I thought I had plenty of time.” He paused. “Now I understand that time was the only thing I never actually had.” That one landed differently. I looked at him. He was staring through the window into the darkness. Then he smiled again. “So enjoy your food while it’s hot. Call your mother when you remember her. Tell your wife you love her before she asks why you haven't said it. Meet your friends while everyone still has time.” He turned toward me. “And occasionally buy the expensive ticket. Life is too short to always calculate the difference between economy and premium economy.” I laughed. Then he leaned closer. “But don’t tell your wife I said that.” We both laughed again. Eventually, the cabin became quiet. Most passengers were asleep. I put my headphones back on. Arijit Singh started playing again. I looked outside. And this time, far away in the darkness, I saw a tiny light. Maybe it was a star. Maybe it wasn't. I didn't care. I was smiling. At some point, I fell asleep. When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the middle seat. Empty. I looked around. The old man was gone. I sat up. I checked the aisle. Nothing. I looked around the cabin. Almost everyone was still asleep. For a moment, I thought about asking somebody. But then I imagined myself saying: “Excuse me, did you see the old man sitting beside me who was giving me life advice while eating airplane food?” There was a very real possibility they would move me to another seat. So I said nothing. I just stared at the empty middle seat. And smiled. Maybe I had dreamed him. Maybe I had imagined the whole conversation. Maybe he had really been there. Even today, I don't know. But something about that night stayed with me. Sometimes people enter our lives without warning. They don't stay long. They don't become our closest friends. Sometimes we don't even learn their names. They simply appear. They make us laugh. They say something we needed to hear. And then they disappear. Maybe that's all they were meant to do. That night, the aircraft continued flying through the darkness. But for once, I wasn't thinking about when we would land. I wasn't waiting to reach the destination. I was simply enjoying the journey. When I finally got home, I told my wife the entire story. She listened carefully without interrupting. When I finished, she stared at me for a few seconds. Then she said, “I know exactly what happened.” I became serious. “What?” She said, “You’ve watched Hanuman Ansh too many times. This is the side effect.” “No! I’m serious!” She smiled. “Okay, okay. Next time, don't watch the movie before your flight.” So much for my profound spiritual experience. Then I told my friends. They listened carefully too. Well... almost carefully. One of them didn't even wait for me to finish. He said, “Agar flight ka mukka ki dharu jaad piyoge, toh yesai hoga!” Everyone started laughing. Including me. Maybe they were right. Maybe it was the movie. Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it was simply my imagination wandering somewhere between sleep and reality. But sometimes I still wonder... What if he really was there? What if some people enter our lives for only one night, one conversation, one laugh? What if we don't always meet people by accident? What if occasionally someone appears, leaves us with exactly what we needed, and then quietly moves on? I don't know. And strangely, I'm okay with not knowing. Because now, whenever I'm on a night flight, I still choose the window seat. And I still look at the middle seat. If it's empty, I smile. If someone sits there... I smile anyway. Because I've realised something. The empty seat was never the luxury. The person sitting beside you can be. And perhaps the real luxury of travelling isn't extra legroom, better food, or a bigger seat. Sometimes, it's simply having someone beside you who makes the journey feel a little shorter. Even if, by the time you reach your destination... you're no longer completely sure they were ever there at all.

From Economy Class to Business Class – A Dream Finally Took Off!

 Business class! It had been one of my long-pending dreams to travel in this class. And finally, after all these years, the stars aligned and the universe decided to give this small-town guy a taste of luxury!

During my last trip to the USA, I got the opportunity to travel in Premium Economy for the first time throughout the journey. Obviously, compared to economy-class passengers, premium economy passengers have a slightly better chance of getting a complimentary upgrade to business class.

And finally, on the last leg of my return journey from Europe to India, that magical moment arrived. The airline decided to upgrade my ticket to business class! I received the news just before boarding.

Trust me, even before the aircraft took off, I was already flying above the clouds!

Yes, for many people, travelling in business class might be a normal affair. But for someone like me, coming from a small village, these little milestones are always special.

Over the years, I’ve developed my own theory about these two classes.

Business class is like an elite society. People mind their own business, rarely interact with their neighbours, and maintain a certain level of sophistication. Everyone seems to be busy with something important.

Economy class, on the other hand, is like a middle-class neighbourhood. You might start a conversation with a complete stranger sitting next to you. People crack jokes, share stories, laugh together and sometimes become friends before the flight even lands. Nobody really bothers about status. It’s all about having a good time.

Now, imagine an economy-class guy suddenly entering this elite business-class society. What would happen?

Well, that guy was me!

I think I was the last passenger to board. By the time I entered, everyone was comfortably seated. The atmosphere was unbelievably serious. It almost looked like an international conference of foreign ministers! Either people were sitting silently or having very serious conversations.

Meanwhile, here I was, enjoying every second of my first-ever business-class experience.

I love window seats, and luckily, I got one here too. In economy class, sometimes you are lucky to get even half a window, or occasionally nothing in the name of a window seat. But here, I had almost four windows to myself! What a luxury!

Then came the food. It felt like attending a grand wedding in a marriage hall, where you could choose whatever you wanted and eat as much as you liked.

And the liquor menu? A whole different story! I can’t claim they were the most expensive drinks in the world, but certainly, there were plenty of premium options to explore.

However, I did have one small observation about some European airlines.

Their cabin crew seemed quite elderly. Some struggled to read the menu without their glasses, and even walking during slight turbulence looked challenging. For a moment, I wondered how they would manage an emergency evacuation involving more than 300 passengers!

Anyway, let’s hope none of us ever has to witness such a situation.

Coming back to my journey, one thing I realised was that business class offers comfort, luxury and personal space, but economy class has its own charm, warmth and human connections.

You can upgrade your seat, your food and your travel experience, but some middle-class habits are impossible to upgrade!

And honestly, I wouldn’t want to upgrade those habits either.

Because at the end of the day, I may have travelled in business class, but the economy-class guy inside me enjoyed the journey the most!

Confused Commuter Chronicles

Every morning, like clockwork, I boarded the metro from Mysore Road station. It had become a ritual — not just a commute, but a quiet slice of time carved out for myself. I always chose the short train that ran between Mysore Road and Garudacharapalya. It wasn’t just about convenience; it was about comfort. These trains were less crowded, and more often than not, I’d find a seat — a small luxury in the chaos of city life.

The longer train, the one that ran all the way from Challaghatta to Whitefield, was a different beast altogether. Packed to the brim, it was a gamble I rarely took. My routine was simple: ride the short train to Garudacharapalya, then switch to the Whitefield-bound train for the final leg to ITPL.

But today was different.

I was in a hurry, hoping to reach the office early. As I stepped into the station, a Whitefield train was already waiting. Without a second thought, I hopped on. It was crowded, as expected, but luck was on my side — a seat opened up after a few stops. I settled in, phone in hand, scrolling through the news, music playing softly in my ears. The rhythm of the train, the hum of the city, and the comfort of routine lulled me into a quiet reverie.

Then came Garudacharapalya.

Almost on autopilot, I stood up, walked out of the train, and stepped onto the platform. It was only after the doors slid shut and the train began to pull away that it hit me — this wasn’t the short train. This was the Whitefield train. The one I was supposed to stay on.
I stood there, frozen, watching the train disappear into the distance, carrying my morning plans with it. A mix of disbelief and amusement washed over me. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself — standing there like a character in a silent comedy, outwitted by my own routine.

Sometimes, even the most familiar paths can surprise us.

 

ಒಂದು ಊರಿನ ಕಥೆ

ನನಗೆ ನನ್ನ ಸ್ನೇಹಿತರು ಅತಿ ಹೆಚ್ಚು ಕೇಳಿರಿವ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆ ಅಂದರೆ, ನಿಮ್ಮ ಊರಿಗೆ ರಾಣೇಬೆನ್ನೂರು ಎಂದು ಹೆಸರು ಹೇಗೆ ಬಂತು? ಎಂದು, ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಒಂದು ಭವ್ಯವಾದ ಐತಿಹಾಸಿಕ ಕಥೆ ಉಂಟು, ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆ ಕೇಳಿದ ಎಲ್ಲರಿಗೂ ನಾನು ಇದೆ ಕಥೆ ಹೇಳುವದು. "ಒಂದು ಸಾರಿ ರಾಣಿ ಎಲಿಜಬೆತ್ ಲಂಡನ್ ನಿಂದ ಮದ್ರಾಸ್ ಗೆ ಹೋಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು, ಹಡಗಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಪ್ರಯಾಣ, ಇನ್ನೇನು ಮದ್ರಾಸ್ ಹತ್ತಿರ ಇದೆ ಅಂದಾಗ ಹಡಗು ಕೆಟ್ಟು ಹೋಯಿತು, so ಸಮೀಪದ ಬಂದರಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಹಡಗು ನಿಲ್ಲಿಸೋಣ ಅಂತಾ ಕ್ಯಾಪ್ಟನ್ ಮ್ಯಾಪ್ ನೋಡಿದಾಗ ಕಂಡಿದ್ದು ಕಾರವಾರ, ಕಾರವಾರದ ಬಂದರಿಗೆ ರಾಣಿ ಇದ್ದ ಹಡಗು ಬಂತು, ರಾಣಿ ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಅರ್ಜೆಂಟ್ ಕೆಲಸದ ನಿಮ್ಮಿತ್ತ ಬಂದಿದ್ದರಿಂದ ಹಡಗು ಸರಿಯಾಗುವ ತನಕ ಕಾಯುವುದಕ್ಕೆ ಆಗುವುದಿಲ್ಲವೆಂದು ಭೂ ಮಾರ್ಗವಾಗಿ ಮದ್ರಾಸಗೆ ಹೊರಟರು,

ಕಾರವಾರ ಯಲ್ಲಾಪುರ ಶಿರಸಿ ಹಾವೇರಿ ಮಾರ್ಗವಾಗಿ ನಮ್ಮ ಊರು ತಲುಪಿದಾಗ ರಾತ್ರಿ, ಇವತ್ತು ಇಲ್ಲೇ ಇದ್ದರಾಯಿತು ಎಂದು ನಿರ್ಧರಿಸಿದ ರಾಣಿ ನಮ್ಮ ಊರಿನ ಗೌಡಪ್ಪನ ಮನೆಗೆ ಹೋದಳು, ಗೌಡಪ್ಪ ಖುಷಿಯಿಂದ ರಾಣಿಯನ್ನು ಸ್ವಾಗತಿಸಿದ, ಅದು ಮಳೆಗಾಲ ದೋ ಎಂದು ಮಳೆ ಸುರಿಯುತ್ತಿತ್ತು, ಗೌಡಪ್ಪನ ಮನೆಯ ಒಂದು ಕಡೆ ಹಂಚು ಒಡೆದು ಸೋರುತಿತ್ತು, ರಾಣಿಗೆ ಗೌಡಪ್ಪ "ಬಿಸಿ ಬಿಸಿ ಜೋಳದ ರೊಟ್ಟಿ ಜೋತೆ ಮಣಿಸಿನಕಾಯಿ ಚಟ್ನಿ ಮಾಡಿಸೀನಿ ತಿನ್ನುವಂತೆ ಬಚ್ಚಲಿಗೆ ಹೋಗಿ ಕೈಕಾಲು ಮುಖ ತೋಳಕೊಂಡು ಬಾ" ಅಂದ, ಬಚ್ಚಲ ಕಡೆ ಹೋಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ರಾಣಿ ಸರಿಯಾಗಿ ನೋಡದೆ, ಮಳೆ ನೀರು ಸೋರುತಿದ್ದ ಕಡೆ ಹೋಗಿ ಆ ಹಸಿಯಾದ ನೆಲದ ಮೇಲೆ ಕಾಲು ಇಟ್ಟು ಜಾರಿ ಬಿದ್ದರು, ಬಿದ್ದ ರಭಸಕ್ಕೆ ರಾಣಿಯ ಬೆನ್ನ ಊನವಾಯಿತು, ಅಂದಿನಿಂದ ಭಾರತದ ಸಮಸ್ತ ಜನರೆಲ್ಲಾ ನಮ್ಮ ಊರಿಗೆ "ರಾಣಿ ಬೆನ್ನು ಊನವಾದ ಉರು" ಅಂತ ಕರೆಯಲು ಆರಂಭಿಸಿದರು ಕಾಲ ಕ್ರಮೇಣ ಅದು ರಾಣೇಬೆನ್ನೂರು ಎಂದಾಯಿತು.

'ಆದಿ'ಯ ಅಂತ್ಯವಿಲ್ಲದ ಕಥೆ

ಹುಳು ಹುಟ್ಟಿ ಸಾಯುತಿರೆ ನೆಲ ಸವೆದು ಕರಗುತಿರೆ ।
ಕಡಲೊಳೆತ್ತಲೋ ಹೊಸ ದ್ವೀಪವೇಳುವುದು ।।
ಕಳೆಯುತೊಂದಿರಲಿಲ್ಲಿ ಬೆಳೆವುದಿನ್ನೊಂದೆಲ್ಲೊ ।
ಅಳಿವಿಲ್ಲ ವಿಶ್ವಕ್ಕೆ ಮಂಕುತಿಮ್ಮ ।।

ಎಷ್ಟು ಅರ್ಥ ಪೂರ್ಣವಾಗಿದೆಯಲ್ಲ ಡಿವಿಜಿ ಯವರ ಈ ಕವನ ಪ್ರಶಾಂತ್, ಎಲ್ಲೋ ಒಂದು ಕಡೆ ಜೀವಿ ಸಾಯುತಿರೇ ಇನ್ನೆಲ್ಲೂ ಒಂದು ಜೀವಿ ಹುಟ್ಟುತಿರುತ್ತೆ, ಎಲ್ಲೂ ಒಂದು ಕಡೆ ಭೂಮಿ ಸಮುದ್ರದ ಆಳದಲ್ಲಿ ಮುಳಿಗಿದ್ರೆ ಇನ್ನೆಲ್ಲೋ ಒಂದು ಕಡೆ ಸಮುದ್ರದಿಂದ ನೆಲ ಆಚೆ ಬಂದಿರುತ್ತೆ, ನನ್ನ ಜೀವನದಲ್ಲೂ ಅಷ್ಟೇ ಒಂದು ಕಷ್ಟ ಮುಗಿತು ಅಂತ ನಿಟ್ಟುಸಿರು  ಬಿಡ್ತಾ ಇದ್ದಹಾಗೆ ಇನ್ನೊಂದು ಕಷ್ಟ ಎದುರು ನಿಂತಿರುತ್ತೇ.... ಆದಿ ಮಾತನಾಡುತ್ತಲೇ ಇದ್ದ ಕಾರ್ ನ ಎಫ್ ಎಮ ನಲ್ಲಿ ಮಹಮ್ಮದ್ ರಪಿಯ ಜಿನಾ ಎಹಾ ಮರನಾ ಎಹಾ, ಇಸಕೆ ಸಿವಾ ಜಾನಾ ಕಹಾ ಹಾಡು ಬರುತಿತ್ತು. ನಮ್ಮ ಕಾರ್ 40ರ ವೇಗದಲ್ಲಿ ಕೋಲಾರ ಕಡೆ ನಿಧಾನವಾಗಿ ಸಾಗಿತ್ತು, ಯಾಕೋ ಅಂದು ಆದಿ ಮಾತನಾಡುವ ಮೂಡ್ ನಲ್ಲಿ ಇದ್ದ.

ನೀನು ಯಾವಾಗಲೂ ಕೇಳ್ತಾ ಇದ್ದೆ  ನಾನು ಚೆನೈ ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಬೆಂಗಳೂರಿಗೆ ಯಾಕ್ ಬಂದೆ ಅಂತಾ, ನನಗೂ ಚೆನೈ ಬಿಡೋಕೆ ಇಷ್ಟಾ ಇರಲಿಲ್ಲ, ಎಷ್ಟೇ ಆದ್ರೂ ಅದು ನನ್ನ ಊರು ಅಲ್ವಾ ಬಟ್ ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಇರೋದು ತುಂಬಾ ಕಷ್ಟ ಆಗಿತ್ತು ನನಗೆ ಅಂದವ ಸುಮ್ಮನಾದ ಆದಿ.

ಯಾಕೆ ಅಂತ ಕೇಳಬೇಕು ಅನಿಸ್ತು ಆದರೆ ನಾನು ಮಾತಾಡಿದ್ರೆ ಅವನು ಮತ್ತೆ ಎಲ್ಲಿ ಮೌನಿ ಆಗ್ತನೋ ಅಂತಾ ಸುಮ್ಮನಿದ್ದೆ
ಕೆಲವು ಕ್ಷಣಗಳ ಬಳಿಕ ಮತ್ತೆ

ಆಗತಾನೆ ಎರಡನೇ ಅಣ್ಣನಿಗೆ ಮದುವೆ ಆಗಿತ್ತು, ಮನೆಗೆ ಅತ್ತಿಗೆ ಬಂದಿದ್ರು ತುಂಬಾ ಖುಷಿಯಾಗಿದ್ದೆ ಅತ್ತಿಗೆ ಅಂದ್ರೆ ತಾಯಿ ಇದ್ದ ಹಾಗೆ ತಾಯಿ ಅಷ್ಟು ಅಕ್ಕರೆ ಪ್ರೀತಿ ಸಿಗದೆ ಇದ್ದರು ಅದರ ಅರ್ಧ ಪ್ರೀತಿ ವಾತ್ಸಲ್ಯ ಸಿಕ್ಕರೆ ಸಾಕು ಅಂದು ಕೊಂಡಿದ್ದೆ ಆದರೆ ಕೆಲವೇ ದಿನಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ನನ್ನ ಆಸೆಗಳೆಲ್ಲ ನುಚ್ಚು ನೂರಾಗಿದ್ದವು, ಅತ್ತಿಗೆ ಯಾವತ್ತೂ ನನ್ನ ಜೊತೆ ಮಾತೆ ಆಡಲಿಲ್ಲ ನಾನಾಗೆ ಮಾತನಾಡಿಸಿದರೆ ಹಾ ಹೂ ನಲ್ಲೇ ಉತ್ತರ, ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಅಣ್ಣನ ಸಾತ್ ಬೇರೆ ಅದುವರಿಗೂ ನಗುನಗುತ್ತಾ ಮಾತನಾಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಅಣ್ಣನು ಅತ್ತಿಗೆಯನ್ನೇ ಹಿಂಬಾಲಿಸಿದ, ಪ್ರಶಾಂತ್ ಈ ಮೌನ ಎನ್ನುವುದು ಯಾವ ಮನುಷ್ಯನಾದರು ಅಭದ್ರನನ್ನಾಗಿ ಮಾಡುತ್ತದೆ ಅತೀವ ಹಿಂಸೆ ಕೊಡುತ್ತದೆ, ಅವರು ನನ್ನ ಜೊತೆ ಜಗಳ ಮಾಡಿದ್ದರೆ ಅಥವಾ ನನಗೆ ಬೈಯುತ್ತಾ ಇದಿದ್ದರೆ ಇಷ್ಟು ನೋವು ಆಗ್ತಾ ಇರಲಿಲ್ಲ ಆದರೆ ನನ್ನ ಜೊತೆಗೆ ಮತನಾಡುವುದನ್ನೇ ನಿಲ್ಲಿಸಿಬಿಟ್ಟಿದ್ದರು ಅದು ಕಾರಣವಿಲ್ಲದೆ. ಅಂದೆ ನಿರ್ಧರಿಸಿದ್ದೆ ಇನ್ನು ಈ ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಇರಬಾರದು, ಬೇರೆ ಮನೆ ಮಾಡುತ್ತೇನೆ ಎಂದರೆ ದೂರದಲ್ಲಿರುವ ಅಪ್ಪ ಅಮ್ಮ ರಂಪ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಾರೆ, ಸುಮ್ಮನೆ ಯಾಕೆ ರಗಳೆ ಎಂದು ಚೆನೈ ಬಿಡುವ ನಿರ್ಧಾರ ಮಾಡಿದ್ದೆ.


ಕಾರಿನ ಮ್ಯೂಸಿಕ್ ಸಿಸ್ಟಮ್ ನಿಂದ ಸಣ್ಣಗೆ ಕೇಳಿ ಬರುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಎಫ್ ಎಮ್ ನಲ್ಲಿ
"ಈಗ ಕೇಳಿ ಅಣ್ಣ ತಂಗಿ ಚಿತ್ರದ ಅಣ್ಣ ನಮ್ಮವನಾದರು ಅತ್ತೆಗೆ ನಮ್ಮವಳಾ ಹಾಡು ಬರುತ್ತಿರುವ ರಕ್ಷಾಬಂಧನ ಹಬ್ಬದ ವಿಶೇಷವಾಗಿ ನಿಮ್ಮ 92.7 ಬಿಗ್ ಎಫ್ ಎಮ್ ನಲ್ಲಿ ನಾನು ನಿಮ್ಮ Rapid Rashmi" 

ನಮ್ಮ ಕಾರ ಆಗಲೇ ಕೋಲಾರದ ಸಮೀಪದಲ್ಲಿತ್ತು

ಆದಿ ಟೀ?

ಬೇಡ ಪ್ರಶಾಂತ್ ಕೋಲಾರ ದಾಟಿದ ಮೇಲೆ ಕುಡಿಯೋಣ ಅಂದ ಆದಿ,
ಮತ್ತದೇ ಮೌನ.

ಹುಲ್ಲಾಗು ಬೆಟ್ಟದಡಿ, ಮನೆಗೆ ಮಲ್ಲಿಗೆಯಾಗು
ಕಲ್ಲಾಗು ಕಷ್ಟಗಳ ಮಳೆಯ ವಿಧಿ ಸುರಿಯೇ
ಬೆಲ್ಲ ಸಕ್ಕರೆಯಾಗು ದೀನ ದುರ್ಬಲರಿಂಗೆ
ಎಲ್ಲರೊಳಗೊಂದಾಗು ಮಂಕುತಿಮ್ಮ

ಅವತ್ತು ತುಂಬಾ ಖುಷಿಯಾಗಿದ್ದೆ ಅಪ್ಪ ನನಗೆ ಹುಡುಗಿ ನೋಡಿದ್ದರು ಇನ್ಪ್ಯಾಕ್ಟ್ ನಾನು ಹೋಗಿದ್ದೆ, ಆ ಹುಡುಗಿ ಜೊತೆಗೆ ಮಾತಾಡಿದ್ದೆ ತುಂಬಾ ಮುದ್ದಾದ ಹುಡುಗೆ ನಂಗೆ ತುಂಬಾ ಇಷ್ಟಾ ಆಗಿದ್ದಳು, ಮನೆಗೆ ಬಂದ ಅಪ್ಪ ಇನ್ನೂ ಮೂರು ತಿಂಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಅವಳಿಗೂ ನಿನಗೂ ಮದುವೆ ಅಂದಿದ್ರು, ಆಗ ಬೆಂಗಳೂರಿಗೆ ಬಂದು ಜಸ್ಟ್ 5 ತಿಂಗಳು ಆಗಿತ್ತು,
ಇನ್ನೆನ್ನೋ ಎಲ್ಲ ಕಷ್ಟಗಳು ಮುಗಿದವು ಅಂತ ಹಾಯಾಗಿದ್ದೆ,
ಆವತ್ತು ಶನಿವಾರ ಪ್ರಶಾಂತ್ ನನಗೆ ಚನ್ನಾಗಿ ನೆನಪಿದೆ ಅವತ್ತು ಲ್ಯಾಪ್ಟಾಪ್ನಲ್ಲಿ seethamma vakitlo sirimalle chettu ಮೂವಿ ನೋಡ್ತಾ ಇದ್ದೆ ಅದು ನನ್ನ ನೆಚ್ಚಿನ ಚಿತ್ರ ಅದರಲ್ಲಿ ಬರು ಪ್ರತಿ ಪಾತ್ರವೂ ನನಗೆ ಎಷ್ಟು ಇಷ್ಟಾ ಅಂದ್ರೆ ಆ ಚಿತ್ರನಾ ನಾನು ಎಷ್ಟು ಸಲಾ ನೋಡಿದ್ದೇನೋ ನನಗೆ ಗೊತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ, ಅವತ್ತು ನೋಡ್ತಾ ಇದ್ದೆ ಆಗ ಅಪ್ಪ ಪೋನ್ ಮಾಡಿದ್ದರು, ಆದಿ ನಿನ್ನ ಅಕೌಂಟ್ ನಲ್ಲಿ ಎಷ್ಟು ದುಡ್ಡು ಇಟ್ಟಿದ್ದಿಯಾ ಎಲ್ಲಾ ನನ್ನ ಅಕೌಂಟ್ ಗೆ ಟ್ರಾನ್ಸಪರ್ ಮಾಡು ಅಂದಿದ್ದರು, ಯಾವತ್ತೂ ಕೇಳದ ಅಪ್ಪ ಅಂದು ದುಡ್ಡು ಕೇಳಿದ್ದು ನೋಡಿ ಅಚ್ಚರಿ ಆಗಿತ್ತು, ಮರು ಮಾತಾಡದೆ ಹು ಅಂದಿದ್ದೆ ಮತ್ತು ಕಳಿಸಿದ್ದೆ. ಅದಾಗಿ ಒಂದು ತಿಂಗಳು ಆಗಿತ್ತು ಊರಿಗೆ ಹೋಗಿದ್ದೆ ನನ್ನ ಮೊದಲನೆ ಅಣ್ಣ ಕೂಡ ಬಂದಿದ್ದ. ಆಗಲೇ ಗೊತ್ತಾಗಿದ್ದು ನನಗೆ ಮೊದಲ ಅಣ್ಣ ಬೆಂಗಳೂರಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಫ್ಲಾಟ್ ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಂದಿದ್ದು, ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಅಪ್ಪ ಕೊಡ 30 ಲಕ್ಷ ಕೊಟ್ಟಿದ್ದರು, ಅದರಲ್ಲಿ ನನ್ನ ಸೇವಿಂಗ್ ಕೂಡ ಇತ್ತು.
ನನ್ನ ಮದುವೆ ವಿಚಾರ ತಿಳಿದ ನನ್ನ ಮೊದಲ ಅಣ್ಣ ಮತ್ತು ಅತ್ತಿಗೆ ಎಲ್ಲಿ ಅಪ್ಪ ತನ್ನ ಉಳಿತಾಯದ ಹಣವನ್ನೆಲ್ಲಾ ನನ್ನ ಮದುವೆಗೆ ಖರ್ಚು ಮಾಡಿಬಿಡುತ್ತಾರೆನು ಎಂದು ಮೊದಲೇ ಪ್ಲಾನ್ ಮಾಡಿ ಮನೆಗೆ ಬಂದು ಹಠಮಾಡಿ ಅಪ್ಪ ಅಮ್ಮನನ್ನು ಒಪ್ಪಿಸಿ ಪ್ಲಾಟ್ ಬುಕ್ ಮಾಡಿದ್ದರು, ಅಸಹಾಯಕ ಅಮ್ಮ ನೆನ್ನದರು ಕಣ್ಣೀರು ಹಾಕಿದ್ದಳ್ಳು ಅಪ್ಪ ಮಾತ್ರ ನೆಪ ಮತ್ರಕ್ಕೆ ಆ ಹುಡುಗಿ ಮರೆತು ಬಿಡು ಇನ್ನೊಂದು ವರ್ಷ ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಅವಳಿಗಿಂತ ಚನ್ನಾಗಿರುವ ಹುಡುಗಿ ನೋಡುವ ಅಂದಿದ್ದರು, ನೆಪ ಮಾತ್ರಕ್ಕೂ ಯಾರು ನನ್ನ ಅಭಿಪ್ರಾಯ ಕೇಳಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ, ಪ್ರಶಾಂತ್ ಅಂದು ಜೀವನದಲ್ಲಿ ಎರಡನೇ ಸಲ ಸಂಭಂದಗಳನ್ನು ಅರ್ಥಮಾಡಿ ಕೊಳ್ಳುವುದರಲ್ಲಿ ನಾನು ಸೋತೆದ್ದೆ.

ಆದಿ ಮತ್ತೆ ಮೌನವಾಗಿದ್ದ ಆಗಲೇ ಕತ್ತಲು ಕವಿದಿತ್ತು, ಯಾಕೋ ಅವನ ಕಣ್ಣುಗಳಿಂದ ಕಣ್ಣೀರು ಉದುರುತ್ತಿರುವಂತೆ ಅನಿಸಿತು, ನನ್ನ ಕಣ್ಣುಗಳು ಮಂಜಗಿದ್ದವು,
ಆದಿ ಯಾಕೋ ಡ್ರೈವ್ ಮಾಡೋಕೆ ಆಗ್ತಾ ಇಲ್ಲ ಕಣೋ ಚೆನೈ ಇನ್ನು 220 km ಇದೆ ಅಷ್ಟು ದೂರ ನಂಗೆ ಡ್ರೈವ ಮಾಡೋ ಮೂಡ್ ಇಲ್ಲ ವಾಪ್ಪಸ್ ಬೆಂಗಳೂರು ಹೋಗುವ ಚೆನೈ ಟ್ರಿಪ್ ಮತ್ತೆ ಯಾವತ್ತಾದರೂ ಮಾಡೋಣ ಅಂದೆ.
ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಆದಿಯು ತಲೆ ಆಡಿಸಿದ, ಮರು ಕ್ಷಣವೇ ಕಾರನ್ನು ಮರಳಿ ಬೆಂಗಳೂರಿನೆಡಗೆ ತಿರುಗಿಸಿದ್ದೆ.

ಬಾನೊಳಿರುವುದೆ ಪಕ್ಷಿ ಪಾರ್ವ ದಾರಿಯ ನಕ್ಷೆ ।
ಮೀನು ನೀರೊಳು ನುಸುಳೆ ಪಥನಿಯಮವಹುದೆ ।।
ಏನೊ ಜೀವವನೆಳೆವುದೇನೊ ನೂಕುವುದದನು ।
ನೀನೊಂದು ಗಾಳಿಪಟ ಮಂಕುತಿಮ್ಮ ।।

ಬೆಂಗಳೂರು ಡೈರಿ

    ರಾಜಭವನ Road ಮೂಲಕ ನಾವು ಮೆಜೆಸ್ಟಿಕ್ ಕಡೆ ಹೋಗುವಾಗ ಬಸವೇಶ್ವರ ಸರ್ಕಲ್ ಬರುತ್ತೆ ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಸುಮಾರು 150 ಸೆಕೆಂಡ್ ಗಳ ಸಿಗ್ನಲ್ ಇದೆ, ನಾವು ಪ್ರತಿ ಸಂಜೆ ಅದೇ ರಸ್ತೆ ಮೂಲಕ ಮನೆಗೆ ಹೋಗುವುದು, ನಮ್ಮ ಕ್ಯಾಬ್ ಅಲ್ಲಿಗೆ ಸಂಜೆ 8.30 ರಿಂದ 8.40ರಷ್ಟಕ್ಕೆ ಬರುತ್ತೆ, ಅದೇ ರಸ್ತೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ವಿಧಾನಸೌಧ, ರಾಜಭವನ ಮತ್ತು ಕೆಲವು ದೊಡ್ಡ ಹೋಟೆಲ್ಗಳು ಇರುವುದರಿಂದ ರಾತ್ರಿ 10ರ ತನಕವು ಟ್ರಾಫಿಕ್ ಇರುತ್ತದೆ, ಬಸವೇಶ್ವರ ಸರ್ಕಲ್ ನ ಸಿಗ್ನಲ್ ದಾಟಲು ನಮ್ಮ ಕ್ಯಾಬ್ ಗೆ ಸುಮಾರು 2 ರಿಂದ 3 ನಿಮಿಷಗಳ ಸಮಯ ಬೇಕಾಗುತ್ತದೆ.
       ನಾನು ಹಲವು ದಿನಗಳಿಂದ ಗಮನಿಸಿದಂತೆ ಅಲ್ಲೊಂದು ಅಜ್ಜಿ ಸಿಗ್ನಲ್ ರೆಡ್ ಇದ್ದಾಗ cotton buds ಗಳ ಚಿಕ್ಕ ಚಿಕ್ಕ ಪ್ಯಾಕ್ ಗಳನ್ನು  ಹಿಡಿದುಕೊಂಡು ಬೈಕ್ ಸವಾರರು ಮತ್ತು ಕಾರುಗಳ ಹತ್ತಿರ ಹೋಗಿ ಮರುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು, ನಾನು ಗಮನಿಸಿದಂತೆ ಯಾರು ಅವುಗಳನ್ನು ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಳ್ಳುತ್ತಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ, ಅದೊಂದು ದಿನ ನಮ್ಮ ಕ್ಯಾಬ್ ನ ಪಕ್ಕದಲ್ಲಿ ನಿಂತಿದ್ದ ಕಾರಿನ ಬಳಿ ಹೋದ ಅಜ್ಜಿ "ಬರಿ 15 ರೂಪಾಯಿ ಅಷ್ಟರಿ ತಗೊಳಿ" ಅನ್ನುತಿತ್ತು ಆ ಕಾರಿನ ಆಸಾಮಿ ಕಿಡಕಿಯ ಗ್ಲಾಸ್ ಕೂಡ ಇಳಿಸಲಿಲ್ಲ, ಆದರೂ ಹಠಬಿಡದ ಅಜ್ಜಿ ಹೋಗಲಿ 10 ರೂಪಾಯಿಗಾದ್ರು ತಗೊಳಿ ಎಂದು ಮತ್ತೆ ಕೇಳಿತು ಆದರೆ ಆ ವ್ಯಕ್ತಿಗೆ ಆ ಮಾತು ಕೇಳಿಸಲೇ ಇಲ್ಲ, ಯಾಕೋ ಆ ಅಜ್ಜಿ ಮುಖ ನೋಡಿ ಮನಸ್ಸಿಗೆ ತುಂಬಾ ಬೇಜರಾಯಿತು, ಹೋಗಲಿ ನಾನದರು ಕೊಳ್ಳವ ಎಂದು ಆ ಅಜ್ಜಿಯ ಕರೆದು " ಹೆಂಗಜ್ಜಿ ಒಂದು ಪ್ಯಾಕೇಟು" ಅಂದೆ ಅಜ್ಜಿ ಮುಖದಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾವುದೇ ಭಾವನೆಗಳು ಇಲ್ಲದೆ 30 ರೂಪಾಯಿ ಅಂದಿತು, ಆಗಲೇ ಸಿಗ್ನಲ್ ಹಸಿರು ಆಗಿತ್ತು ಕರೆದ ತಪ್ಪಿಗೆ 30 ರೂಪಾಯಿ ಕೊಟ್ಟು ಒಂದು ಪಾಕೆಟ್ cotton buds ಕೊಂಡೆ.
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        ಟ್ರಿಪ್ ಶೀಟ್ ನಲ್ಲಿ ಸಹಿ ಮಾಡಲು ಪೆನ್ ಹುಡುಕುತಿದ್ದೆ, ಕ್ಯಾಬ್ ನಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾರ ಬಳಿಯೂ ಪೆನ್ ಇರಲಿಲ್ಲ, ನಮ್ಮ ಕ್ಯಾಬ್ ಡ್ರೈವರ್ ಮುಂದೆ ಎಲ್ಲಾದರು ತಗೊಳೋನಾ ತಡ್ರಿ ಸರ್ ಎಂದು ಗಾಡಿ ಓಡಿಸುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು, ಅಲಸೂರ್ ಲೇಕ್ ಸಿಗ್ನಲ್ ಬಳಿ ಒಬ್ಬ ಬಾಲಕ ಪೆನ್ನುಗಳನ್ನು ಮಾರುತ್ತಿದ್ದ, ಅವನನ್ನು ಹತ್ತಿರ ಕರೆದ ನಮ್ಮ ಡ್ರೈವರ್ ಹೇಂಗೂ ಮರಿ ಪೆನ್ನು ಅಂದರು, ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಆತ 10 ರೂಪಾಯಿ ಸಾರ್ ಅಂದ, ಸರಿ ಎಂದು 10ರ ಎರಡೂ ನೋಟು ಕೊಟ್ಟು ಎರಡು ಪೆನ್ನು ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಂಡರು, ಸಿಗ್ನಲ್ ಗ್ರೀನ್ ಆಗಿತ್ತು ಆಗಲೇ ಕ್ಯಾಬ್ ಹೊರಟಿತ್ತು, ಹಿಂದಿನಿಂದ ಸಾರ್ ಎಂದೂ ಕೂಗಿಕೊಂಡು ಓಡಿ ಬಂದ ಆ ಹುಡುಗ " ಸಾರ್ 1 ಪೆನ್ ತಗೊಂಡ್ರೆ 10 ರೂಪಾಯಿ, 2 ಪೆನ್ ತಗೊಂಡ್ರೆ 18 ರೂಪಿಯಿ ಅಷ್ಟೇ ಎಂದು ಎರಡು ರೂಪಾಯಿ ಮರಳಿಸಿ, ಕ್ಷಣಾರ್ಧದಲ್ಲಿ ಅಲ್ಲಿಂದ ಮಾಯವಾದ....