Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

Thus begins the poem. Tina says - “The Cynara mentioned here refers to the daughter of a restaurant owner that the poet used to frequent. She has brushed aside his love without consideration and eloped with a waiter.” Heartbroken, he wants to forget his lover and finds his recourse is a prostitute. However, when the prostitute is kissing him, he sees the shadow of his lover. Even in the midst of wine and passionate love making, he cannot get over the familiar warm breath of his lover caressing his heart. He is nostalgia stricken and unable to hold himself.

Tina moves further and says:

The Cynara here can be anything. Every time I read the poem, I have interpreted it in a different way. My childhood, the home town, homes that I have lost have indeed come back to haunt me as Cynaras. Many a time, I feel that the prostitute of the poem is symbolic of the city life-glittering, machine like-that I have chosen. We all have our Cynara, who keeps sauntering in our consciousness causing us pain. […] We hide our Cynaras unlike Dowson who opened up. Time goes by and we remain scared. If she appears before us out of the blue, we get startled. We would have developed so much hypocrisy that we cannot even have a chat with her. Finally, she gets buried with us… [Translated]

A great Kannada writer Poornachandra Tejaswi passed away a few months ago. Today is his birthday. Avadhi has a couple of tributes to him. Jugari Cross is waiting, wishing for his arrival, avadhi says. Jugari Cross is a name of one of Tejaswi's novels, the central location of which is a fictional place by the same name. Kadidalu Shamanna narrates a few anecdotes from Tejaswi's life. Talking of anniversaries, parisarapremi remembers Steve Irvine, who died a year ago.

Hamsanandi tells us a tragic story; he lost his brother recently in a road accident in Bangalore. Sushruta relates a humorous anecdote about his grandmother in which she tricks a friend through blatant repudiation. What is nice about the story is the Havyaka dialect of Kannada spoken widely in Uttara Kannada district of Karnataka and parts of Dakshina Kannada district.

nishu mane is a blog by Meera for her child. She explains the Kannada alphabet (varNamAle), among other things. She also translates some popular English rhymes augmenting them with a Kannada context. Nice. That reminds me of a recent interview of a Kannada poet in which he, quite correctly, mentions how our preschool curriculum (where the language of instruction is English) blissfully ignores the local context. He gave as an example the popular rhyme – rain rain go away. Why would we want to ask the rain to go away in a drought stricken country like India? Our version of the rhyme is – huyyO huyyO maLerAya (rain rain, please pour down!). Therefore, he argued, we should adopt a method of teaching that is more locally observable and verifiable by our kids. It's a fair point.

Shrikant has a very fair and balanced attitude about Kannada in particular and regional languages in general. His thoughts go back to the following SMS he received.

tha briteesh roold avar kantree phaar 200 ears and spaayilt all avar lyanguages… so let us spaayil there lyangyage phar yever!!!

Although, it amused him for an instant, he finds the whole thing to be in a bad taste. Such misguided vindictiveness does not alter the fact that English is very much essential in the modern world. Even the Kannada post he is writing is done using the English alphabet. If people really want to promote a language, then there are constructive ways of doing it like designing good Kannada interfaces.

Sandeepa is fighting to have the Cafe Coffee Days serve him Kannada menus. He has given a certain Cafe Coffee Day in Sampige Road, Malleswaram, Bangalore, an ultimatum of 15 days to get a menu in Kannada printed. The deadline ended on August the 26th and I suppose Sandeepa went to the cafe. No further updates though. If you ask me, it's another example of the narrow business sense that most “new-age” businesses have. Too many businesses in Bangalore focus on the “software engineer types”. Not that they are apathetic to issues like language, but the businesses perhaps think they are the only ones who have the spending capability. Again, it's a question of appreciating the local context in a holistic manner. On a similar note, En guru asks - “Why are Kannadigas being served with Hindi advertisements?“.

The Queen of South Indian playback singing, S. Janaki completed fifty years of her illustrious career. What a voice! S. Janaki, originally from Andhra Pradesh, settled in Madras has sung more songs in Kannada than in Telugu or Tamil. On this occasion Hamsanandi commemorates some of her eternal hits.

Ravi has a rant about a writer/moviemaker, Nagatihalli Chandrashekhar, who, he thinks, is forgetting the immense possibilities and strengths of his roots in an effort to be relevant to the shortlived present. Incidentally, Chandrashekhar seems to have realised that he is drifting away into something that is not real, and has made an attempt to go back to where he truly belongs through his latest movie, mAtAD mAtADu mallige. It is a movie that has a very contemporary appeal, dealing with globalisation and its effects. Prasad Naik reviews the movie and gives it a thumbs up.

Harini has some pithy cartoon about the state of affairs in the state of Karnataka. Perhaps India. Here is a sample. The two characters are the Chief Minister and the Deputy Chief Minister of Karnataka. That's enough annotation!

Several others area also notable: 60th Independence Day, Heights of Vana Mahotsava.

Sindhu writes an intimate post about her village, grandmother, rains and memories of grandfather.

Ajji was a little ill. I longed to see her. The experienced semi-deafness of her senility that let her gauge my words by my tone of my voice, while talking over the phone. I wanted to sit with her and weave a conversation. I requested aside all the important work that was pulling me behind and boarded a bus at night. She was waiting for me; her ripened face on which a smile blossomed. Whatever be the topic of discussion it somehow seemed to drift towards the courtyard of death. Most of her acquaintances had packed their bags and left. Every time someone one knows departs, there is in instant fear that perhaps it is my turn next. Then the next concern is the nature of death. A death that comes with all its crushing pain in the hospital, alongside the futile intake of the “fluid of life” (glucose); a death that comes when you are unable even to die. Or a death that lets you have your routine breakfast, bath, tea, at home, and catches you unawares when you are done with grinding your betel nut, when you are preparing the betel leaf… Although, she does not spell it out, that is what she wishes… [Translated]

Tina has translated a famous poem by Pablo Neruda - Tonight I can Write the Saddest Lines. And Rashid has translated a poem by Pushkin. Good translations both of them. Venu writes a beautiful poem in an attempt to appease his dear sister who was disappointed since he could not make it on time for Rakshabandhan. Again, Tina has written an excellent poem - paDakhAneya huDugiya mOksha, that I chose to translate as Salvation of the Tavern Girl. And I translate a few lines, rather inadequately.

Salvation is when
after all this
we guffaw away
like joyful children
unwearied [Translated]

The terrific fake news blog majAvAni keeps coming up with brilliant pieces of satire. Some of the “news” they have don't seem unreal given the interesting times we are living in. Can you imagine the communist leader Brinda Karat saying - “Reincarnation is the chief cause for India's population explosion problems!”? Perhaps not, but several of our leaders keep making statements that come close to the above one in terms of stupidity. What is impressive about these “news”, alongside the evident humour, is their pithiness in allusions. This one, for example, alludes to the recent news that Tibetan monks need to seek permission from the Chinese government to reincarnate, and also suggests that the Indian communists have an unreasonable soft corner for China. In fact, Brinda Karat proceeds to say that, “if the government of India bans reincarnation, undoubtedly India will be a developed nation like Soviet Russia within a few years”. Again, see “Soviet Russia”? However, the government refused to confiscate the rights of spirits, citing India's commitment to democracy. Instead, it will consider forming a committee of experts comprising pontiffs and philosophy gurus to help spirits attain moksha without reincanation. The government also proposed a movement called “I am one-One for me” in this regard. In another news item, they report that Kumaraswamy, CM of Karnataka, has released a new perfume called “Boo” to the market. It's a 100% natural perfume that has the fragrance of soil, made in collaboration with Chanel! Amitabh Bachan has welcomes this gesture. Well, remember Amitabh Bachan had legal problems recently because he bought some agricultural land though he is not a farmer? And of course, Kumaraswamy is supposed to be the “son of soil” or whatever.

Restrooms seem to be an eternal source of intrigue to the Indian populace. The toilet is such an integral part of our pop culture. Perhaps nothing is more “humorous” than the loo. The fun element in numerous movies rests solely on the loo. And Guruprasad narrates his experiences with this form.

Vinayaka Bhat has some pictures from Jog falls. Venu does a trek to arisinagundi falls in the western ghats. ganDabhErunDa is traveling in and around the district of Belgaum in North Karnataka. He writes impressive travel essays starting with the worthy train journey from Hubli to Belgaum via Londa, then the ghats of Amboli and the beautiful falls and finally the terrific Gokak falls.

Read. Blog. Travel.

Ananthamurthy continues with his rhetorical questions. “What has changed since independence?” he asks this time. And I do not really disagree with his observations.

After independence we have gradually lost faith in the persuasive ability of language. In England in the 19th century all its great writers used many rhetorical devices to enhance the persuasive capacity of language. Whether Carlyle or Ruskin or Mathew Arnold, they used all the resources of language to persuade their opponents. This is mostly due to the democratic movements of that age. This means that the speaker believed that he or she could change the way that the opponent thought about a particular issue. [..]

[…]The language of advertisement has taken over now in every field of communication. Its intention is to kill our power of discrimination. […]We are second rate as a civilization now for we have lost faith in the power of language to persuade through reason.

Sindhu misses the shlokas and bhajanes (religious chants and songs) of her childhood. She fondly remembers the way the songs and chants instantly transformed the little monsters into nice kids, albeit momentarily! Once the worships were over, their effect soon got over. She longs for those voices today when

Our evenings are filled with the bright lights of shopping malls, honking vehicles, the “reverse gear songs”, title songs of tele-serials, the shrieking rock and pop of reality shows; it’s not even possible to just sit and listen to the song of the birds. The music from the neighbouring houses, the chaos on the roads… [Translated]

Shrikant Mishrikoti takes us back to the origins of the Ramayana. It starts with Valmiki cursing a hunter who kills the male krauncha bird (Egret or Heron) and causes grief to the female krauncha.

mA niShAda pratiShThA.n tvamagamaH shAshvatI.n samAH |
yatkrauJNchamithunAdekamavadhIH kAmamohitam.h ||
(bAlakANDa 2.14) [Source]

This is the first shloka of Ramayana, which translates into: Oh hunter! You, who killed one of the Kraunchas that were pairing filled with great love for each other, shall not progress much through your life. Valmiki realised that his curse was in the form of a shloka only in retrospect. Also, the cursing, which was an outburst due to the momentary anger, caused great unrest in him. Later on Brahma came to him and asked him to use this curse of his as the starting point of a great epic about Rama, because he thought none can understand the nuances and subtleties of the human nature and the world in which they live, better than Valmiki.

Satish Kumar has a not very happy rant about our seemingly virtual living. He is puzzled that even with so many technologies around, we still cannot communicate well. Sanganagowda is worried about karunADu (the land of black soil, Karnataka) being consumed steadily by “outsiders”. What is good about the post though is he gives a set of constructive ideas to revive Kannada and make it attractive so that others learn it. Mahesha discusses the Kannada equivalents of a few technical terms. Keshav Kulkarni shows enough evidence through a very short post, for “our” sense of false prestige and pretense.

On the 15th of August India celebrated its 60th Independence Day. However, there are not many posts about the event. Perhaps it shows a lack of zeal towards our symbols. Perhaps independence is losing its significance. At least, Archana is unhappy about the change in perception towards the Independence Day. It was an eventful affair during her childhood, when the preparations at the school started 15 days ahead; great many competitions, debates, quizzes, dances and plays. And today it is just another holiday. On the other hand, Rajesh Nayak is seemingly unbothered about these perceptions and continues to pursue his passion, traveling. He celebrates the Independence Day in a unique way in the laps of Mother Nature. A nice photo essay.

In fact, he is a tireless traveler. Here’s another nice photo essay about the different water falls in Kodagu district of Karnataka. I lived in Kodagu for about 3 years but still have not seen many of the water falls he talks about! Shivaram has a set of photos he took in Shivamogga.

Joseph narrates a story told by Osho in which God consoles a poor man who is not allowed to enter a temple by revealing to him that God himself is not allowed to enter that temple constructed by the filthy rich! Venkatesh is recollecting Gandhi through old photographs [1, 2]. A realisation occurs to Shamsundar in his effort of digging out the truth. Abdul Rasheed bashfully publishes a short story on his blog that he had written bashfully. b(bhA)ALa kavana has nice little poems. Hamsanandi translates a shloka from Kalidasa’s Raghuvansha.

Shravana has come; and the festivals come, one after the other. nAga panchami just got over. It is a great festival during which people worship snakes. But more importantly it’s a lot of fun with varieties of delicious undes (laddus or laadus) and “popcorn”. Also, it’s the time when people swing their swings. People, especially women, worship the snake god by pouring milk on to the hood of stone snakes. But in Shivamogga, people celebrated it differently by interacting with real live snakes. Kuchela has a small report on that. Sushruta pens a nice personal account of nAga panchami; laddus, henna and the intimacy of the family.

On the day of nAgara panchami, our ebullience had different flavours: it went like rock music from morning till afternoon, and then it took to the tune of Kannda film song, turning into a lyrical song later in the evening, finally mellowing down into the sound of mother’s low hums. That is because, the night of nAgara panchami is the night when henna was applied to our fingers! [Translated]

Venkatesh pays a tribute to Shyam Benegal, who was recently conferred with the Dada Saheb Phalke award. HPN remembers the good 25 year old CD ROM. He started using this thing called CD ROM barely a few years ago and it’s almost obsolete now!

Well, time flies by. Till the next time…

Anivaasi watches Bergman’s Winter Light after learning about his death. He writes:

A pastor of a small village, who has lost his wife four years ago; his school teacher girlfriend, who bothers him with her woos; a soldier vexed with the dingy happenings of the world, and his pregnant wife; a hunchbacked, insomniac sexton, who tries to forget his back pain through pain killers; the happy go lucky pianist. This is all there is to the world of Winter Light. [Translated]

Winter Light is a movie of great existential dilemmas and insurmountable angst. Towards the end, the sexton is seen to trivialise Christ’s pain when he was crucified in comparison with his own back pain. But the pain of Christ’s (at least momentary) realisation of the failure of his God must be at least as great as the pain of his own dilemma about God – the sexton imagines.

Moving on to less (or more) existential movies, Keshav reflects on the timeless battle between the “mass” vs “class” movie makers/watchers. He chooses two movies, both successful in their own ways, and lays down his argument: mungAru maLe (that continues to create a rage in the box office) and dweepa (an offbeat movie by the renowned Girish Kasaravalli). He calls the whole argument unnecessary: each one has its place. Someone who makes a successful mungAru maLe cannot make a successful Dweepa and vice versa. For example, Govind Nihalani, who made a great movie like Ardha Satya, tried his hand making a commercial movie (Takshak) and failed miserably. Arun Hegde, on a similar note, is not too keen about the opposition to successful movies in other languages remade in Kannada. All he wants is to watch good movies. He finds 73, Shanti Nivasa, a remake of the Hindi movie Bawarchi, enjoyable. Ismail is not impressed with T.N. Seetharam on the big screen. T. N. Seetharam has achieved an unprecedented success through his Kannada tele-serials. However, his recent movie Meera Madhava Raghava was not well received. Jeevishivu gives a detailed analysis of the phenomenal success of mungAru maLe. Perhaps the simple plot, without any “moral urgency” or the need to give out a “message”, a familiar but ordinary looking hero, and the lack of expectations that entailed, the freshness in music and choreography, the free form dialogue, good cinematography, contributed in different measures to the success of the movie.

Ismail also writes an excellent personal tribute to his father, who showed him the stars. He describes how his father drove his kids on his bicycle and introduced them to different constellations like the Saptarshi Mandala, the beLLi chukki or the Venus, and the celebrated Dhruva Nakshtara. The next stage was books on astronomy, a compass and a home made device to measure angles (probably serving as a sextant), using which father and the kids spent nights together exploring stars! How many times have I read a great personal essay like this and wondered how they just fall short of being a great short story!

Here is another. Rasheed talks about the joy of walking in Shillong.

Shillong is a beauty for people who love walking. There are “foot ways”, there are “step ways”, you can leave behind several new paths as you walk. If you start your walk as soon as a lash of rain stops, you can watch water percolating, shining grass blades, nodding petals, the sunny rain clouds running towards you … all this, before the start of a new lash of rain. [Translated]

Dr. U. R. Ananthamurthy writes about the reasons due to which he finds Gandhi more relevant today than any other leader – Marx, Lenin, Mao, Stalin, Churchill, Roosevelt et al. Gandhi said his message is his life. This cannot be said of anyone else. Ananthamurthy chides the so called “intellectual freedom” that we have attained that seems to let us get away doing whatever, as long as we say the right thing. He also argues that Gandhi has always been a challenge to most intellectuals since they could not understand him through any of their predefined frameworks logic and philosophy. Everything was an experiment for Gandhi. So, he even went to the extent of finding solid evidence to his celibacy by spending nights naked with a girl. He realised the his mistake in doing so only when Kripalani pointed it to him, says Ananthamurthy. He also mentions the differences between Gandhi and Tagore. Incidentally, Tagore called Gandhi Mahatma, and Gandhi called Tagore Gurudeva.

Odu janamEjaya is a blog dedicated to Kannada book reviews. Vivek Hanbhag writes his experiences with renowned short story writer and novelist Yashawant Chittal’s short stories. He says there are three important aspects to his story telling: The first one is that Chittal firmly believes that “story telling is a good deed”. A story is something that is designed and is suitable to reach others. This belief has created the overall form of his story writing technique. The second aspect is the (fictional) hanEhaLLi. There is no world in his stories that does not contain hanEhaLLi. It is always there as a part of the ethos that he captures. Even when it is not there directly, hanEhaLLi is present as a conscience, a value system, a measure. And the third is his attempt to establish a relation with an unknown world. He is constantly concerned about going beyond the boundary of human experiences, extrapolating the experiences to involve the unknown, the inexpressible.

Among the etcetera we have Rajesh Nayka who visits tourist places around Bagalakote in North Karnataka, and writes a series of posts with photos [Bagalakote, Aihole, Pattadakallu, Badami-1, 2, 3]. Parameshwar Gundkal reproduces a poem by Vikas Negiloni, a cinema journalist. A very nice rain poem. Sushruta is irritated with his (self-proclaimed) mediocre blog posts and decides to throw away his pen till he learns to write quality posts like some in the blogging community. He later consoles himself due to the realisation that he has to but sing in his own tune, dance to his own rhythm. Navilagari has nice romantic poetry. In one, the poet starts by addressing the clouds: you are midgets compared to my eyes/ you haven’t rained as much as tears flown out of my eyes [Translated]