I have this condition. A condition? – Yes, it’s my memory. Amnesia? – No, no, it’s different from that. I have no short-term memory. I know all about myself, but since my injury, I can’t create new memories. Everything fades. If we talk for too long, I’ll forget how we started. …and next time I
Read moreA forerunner poet, Pampa, from the pre-Shakespearean era of Karnataka, wrote this beautiful poem: ಚಾಗದ ಭೋಗದಕ್ಕರದ ಗೇಯದ ಗೊಟ್ಟಿಯಲಂಪಿ ನಿಂಪುಗ ಳ್ಗಾರವಾದ ಮಾನಿಸರೆ ಮಾನಿಸರಂತವರಾಗಿ ಪುಟ್ಟಲೇ ನಾಗಿಯುಮೇನೊ ತೀರ್ದಪುದೇ ತೀರದೊಡಂ ಮರಿದುಂಬಿಯಾಗಿ ಮೇಣ್ ಕೋಗಿಲೆಯಾಗಿ ಪುಟ್ಟುವುದು ನಂದನದೊಳ್ ಬನವಾಸಿ ದೇಶದೊಳ್…. It means, “Even if I am repeatedly stabbed with a bullhook (Ankush), I still yearn to be reborn in this beautiful land
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I can still hear the battering noise of the monsoon rain. Often I count all my bones to ensure they survived the rocking jeep ride on a rickety uphill road. I was wearing a waterproof dress, but I was drenched with sweat inside. Dark clouds, tropical jungle, heavy rain and a thick fog had reduced
Read moreTo begin with, I wish you all a Happy and Prosperous Makara Sankranti. “You have deeper talent there. But, there’s a difference between talent and skill. Talent comes from God—you’re born with it. Skill comes from sweat and practice, and commitment.” Will’s uncanny voice echoed in my ears as I clocked a 7 km/hour pace
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