Happy Deepavali festival

A beautiful song sung by Pandit Bhimsen Joshi. Divine feeling.

Happy Deepavali festival greetings in advance.

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ಕೆ.ವಿ. ಸುಬ್ಬಣ್ಣ ಮತ್ತು ನೀನಾಸಂ ಎಂಬ ‘ ತಳಮಟ್ಟದ ಬೆರಗಿನ ಲೋಕ’ – ಡಾ. ವಿನತೆ ಶರ್ಮ

K V Subbanna ಕೆ ವಿ ಸುಬ್ಬಣ್ಣ (ಚಿತ್ರ: ನೀನಾಸಂ ಜಾಲ)

ಫೇಸ್ ಬುಕ್ ನಲ್ಲಿ ಬಂದ ಸಂದೇಶವೊಂದು ಹೇಳಿತ್ತು – ರಂಗ ತಂಡವೊಂದು ಕೆ.ವಿ. ಸುಬ್ಬಣ್ಣರವರ ಸ್ಮರಣ ನಾಟಕೋತ್ಸವನ್ನು ಹಮ್ಮಿಕೊಂಡಿದೆ ಎಂದು. ಹಾಗೆ ಕೆಲ ವಿವರಗಳನ್ನು ಓದುತ್ತಾ ಹೋದೆ. ಬೆಂಗಳೂರೂ ಸೇರಿದಂತೆ ಕರ್ನಾಟಕ ರಾಜ್ಯದ ಅಲ್ಲಲ್ಲಿ ಸುಬ್ಬಣ್ಣರವರನ್ನು ನೆನೆಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳುತ್ತಾ ಹಲವಾರು ಸಾಹಿತ್ಯ, ಸಂಸ್ಕೃತಿ ಮತ್ತು ನಾಟಕ ಸಂಬಂಧಿತ ಚಟುವಟಿಕೆಗಳನ್ನು ಈ ಜುಲೈ ತಿಂಗಳ ಕಡೆಯರ್ಧದಲ್ಲಿ ನಡೆಸಲಾಗಿತ್ತು. ದುಂಡನೆ ಚುಕ್ಕಿಗಳಿಟ್ಟು ಗೆರೆ ಎಳೆದು ಅವನ್ನು ಒಂದಕ್ಕೊಂದು ಬೆಸೆದು ಅದ್ಭುತ ಚಿತ್ತಾರಗಳನ್ನು ಸೃಷ್ಟಿಸಿದ ನೀನಾಸಂ ಕುರಿತು ಇರುವ ನೆನಪುಗಳ ಅಂಗಳ ಕಣ್ಣ ಮುಂದೆ ಬಂದು ಕುಳಿತೆ ಬಿಟ್ಟಿತು, ಹಠ ಹಿಡಿದ ಮುದ್ದು ಮಗುವಿನ ಪರಿ.

ಮಲೆನಾಡಿನ ಹೆಗ್ಗೋಡು ಎಂಬ ಪುಟ್ಟ ಹಳ್ಳಿ ಕೊಳಲಾಗಿದ್ದು,ಎಂದೆಂದಿಗೂ ಬತ್ತದ ಚೈತನ್ಯದ ಚಿಲುಮೆ ಕೆ.ವಿ. ಸುಬ್ಬಣ್ಣನವರು ಆ ಕೊಳಲೂದಿದ ಮಾಂತ್ರಿಕನಾಗಿದ್ದು,ಆ ಕೊಳಲ ಗಾನದಿಂದ ಹುಟ್ಟಿದ ರಂಗ ಪ್ರಯೋಗಗಳು, ಚಲನಚಿತ್ರಲೋಕದ ದಿಗ್ಗಜರು ಈ ಪ್ರಪಂಚಕ್ಕೆ ಕೊಟ್ಟ ಅಪರೂಪದ ರತ್ನಗಳನ್ನ ಅವರು ನಮಗೆಲ್ಲಾ ಉಣ ಬಡಿಸಿದ ಪರಿ,ಸಾಹಿತ್ಯದ ಮಾತುಕತೆಗಳು, ಕಲೆ ಮತ್ತು ಸಂಸ್ಕೃತಿ ಸಂಭ್ರಮಗಳು, ಜೀವನ ಸಮಷ್ಟಿ,ದೃಷ್ಟಿಕೋನಗಳ ಕ್ರಿಯಾವಾದಗಳು … ಒಂದೇ ಎರಡೇ! ಆ ಸಣ್ಣ ಹಳ್ಳಿ ಹೆಗ್ಗೋಡಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಸುಬ್ಬಣ್ಣನವರು ಮತ್ತವರ ಗೆಳೆಯರು ಸೃಷ್ಟಿಸಿದ ಲೋಕಕ್ಕೆ ಯಾವ ಹೆಸರನ್ನು ತಾನೇ ಇಡುವುದ? ಆ ಲೋಕಕ್ಕೆ ನೀನಾಸಂ ಮತ್ತು ಹೆಗ್ಗೋಡು ಎಂಬ ಎರಡೇ ಪದಗಳು ಸಾಕಲ್ಲವೇ! ಮತ್ತೇನು ಗುರುತು,ಲಾಂಛನ ಬೇಕು? ಎಲ್ಲವೂ ತನ್ನಷ್ಟಕ್ಕೆ ತಾನೇ ಅನಾವರಣಗೊಳ್ಳುತ್ತದೆ.

ಇಂಟಿಮೇಟ್ ಥಿಯೆಟರ್ (ಬಲಗಡೆ) ಮತ್ತು ನೀನಾಸಂ ಗ್ರಂಥಾಲಯ (ಎಡಗಡೆ) - ಪ್ರತೀಕ್ ಮುಕುಂದ ತೆಗೆದ ಚಿತ್ರ ಇಂಟಿಮೇಟ್ ಥೇಟರ್ ಮತ್ತು ಗ್ರಂಥಾಲಯ (ಚಿತ್ರ:  ಪ್ರತೀಕ್ ಮುಕುಂದ)

ನೀನಾಸಂನ ಕಿರು…

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A wave

A wave

Eternal, infinite, constant

Such patience, your endurance.

 

Relentless, recapturing

Returning, reverberating

To stay on

sustain, replenish

to be with.

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A child galloping

on the shore

Lovers’ eyes set

on the evening sun.

A baby finding

her head-rest on

the mother’s chest

Comforting rise and fall

Act like a chime.

20160823_161952.jpgYou are like

a teen’s hissing

arms thrown up

in the air,

despair cannot be

your fare.20160823_190920.jpg

 

Drifting apart

returning to kiss the

sand on the shore

But for a moment

It is separation

In the measure of time

It is but

a nod with a smile.

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Like a couple, aging.

Touching each other’s

hands but with their eyes.

Reflecting, rejuvenating.

 

Eager, waiting, yearning – ­

to surrender, to empty;

only to fill again with

an unknown spring.

 

It’s a coming. It’s a stay.

 

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The Alps. The Dolomites. The mountains beckon.

Into the high

 

When I climb a hill

There’s a flute playing in my ears.

Boulders become the drums,

My heart beats match the choir.

Lightening in my eyes,

With feet dancing.

Whilst my head spears

Through those silvery clouds,

My mind wanders

Into an unseen wonderland.

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I desire to stop the Time.

I wish to spread my wings.

I dream the free flight.

I climb up, fly down.

Like him, the Seagull.

 

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A ‘feminine’ female prime minister?!

Wanted: A feminine female prime minister?!

Somebody said people hoped that Theresa May would be different as the new prime minister. She would bring femininity into the much controversial British politics. That she would be different to Margaret Thatcher who ruled ‘more man-like in a man’s world of ruthless politics.’

I wondered why she should be different on those lines of masculinity Vs femininity. Such hopes, I said, were typical expectations aligned with gender stereotypes. I argued that Theresa May should simply lead. As a leader with democratic values of good governance. Not as a woman or a man politician but as a leader with vision and awareness of the ground realities. That a woman must show her feminine qualities in the highly competitive and deceiving world of politics and governance is a reaffirmation of gendered roles. Roles of women as care takers, givers, soft, motherly, and as symbol of peace and balance are gendered expectations. There is some masculinity and femininity in both males and females.

A colleague, when I was working in the human development sector, once commented about our division head who was a female. He said she had adopted a particular masculine-style of walking and some such behaviours as a result of being in that responsible leadership role. Interestingly, although women held most leadership positions in that organisation this colleague made a comment about this particular woman. I just thought she walked and moved around the way she did because she was almost six-foot tall and big. Most women around her looked petite. I thought that colleague preferred a stereotypical image of a feminine female.

What about all those women, generally, who don’t have ‘typical’ feminine bodies, soft and gently flowing voice, and a motherly/nurturing look on their face? I have seen men responding to ‘such’ women with stern faces, unfriendly, using formal voice, showing authority and power (unnecessarily), being dismissive, disrespectful, and less tolerant. I have seen women calling ‘such’ women manly and not charming, showing them less respect, excluding, labelling and spiteful.

What about those very few female leaders of this modern world of politics who have led or leading governance? There have been ugly comments about their personhood, their personal looks, their marital status, not having children and so on. The attitude towards a ‘feminine’ female continues to be astonishingly stereotypical. The beliefs surrounding a ‘female’ image are unashamedly so orthodox. The trap of masculinity and femininity is abysmal.

Let Prime Minister Theresa May’s governance demonstrate something good for her country so that people are happier and healthier. Not as a female prime minister but just as a strong democratic leader.

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Shared

Shared

 

That gravel patch

Wretched ditch

There lies

Unpardoning quest

Surreal, waiting.

Headless pots

Walking with crutches

Without a ketch

Piercing noise

Sulking breaths

Beckoning journey

Unknown to the Zombies

The craft has a mast

Flying birds sing

Romancing the drift

Everybody’s path

Trodden by hundreds

Nobody’s lamb

Million hidden shreds

Laughing life

Breathless crawl

A kingfisher’s bet

On a tiger’s prowl

Paths etched

The wretched soul’s grit

Journeying through the ditch

Shared is the canoe.

 

Vinathe Sharma

April 2016

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The riddle of divisions finding wholesome

The riddle of divisions finding wholesome

A few weeks ago we stood on a bridge.

Because, we couldn’t proceed crossing that bridge. There were others in front of us, stopped in their steps. People on either end of the bridge were trying to get going for their own reasons. We found out that a TV channel was recording a singer on the other end of the bridge for a fund-raising event. Oh, let’s watch, I said to the two totally uninterested children. It emerged that they would move to the middle for the second recording.

When they did move some people went over to the side of the singer to appear in the programme alongside her. As we didn’t do that, somehow we happened to stand next to the TV channel’s crew with their recording equipment, looking at the singer. The TV team asked people on the two ends of the bridge to be patient, promising it all would take only a few minutes. Whilst getting ready with their headphones and communication process, a crew member commented how some people were trying to push through the crowd to cross the bridge. The singer said something. The word ‘immigrants’ fell on my ears, loud and clear.

Britain is living a historical moment today.

Many countries of this human-constructed world – geographically and politically bordered – have had their historical moments or are going through transitions. The significant political moment of today’s Britain is a past for some countries. Forced, voluntary, compromised, wilfully, calculative, negotiated or accepted.

Ancient and modern history lessons in school have informed us of all those invasions, occupations, settlements and migrations – authorised and unauthorised. I think there are only a few countries left in this world whose peoples are not products of such inter-mixing between natives and others.

Humans are always on the move. Very few find acceptance. Most are intruders.

Historical anecdotes reveal too many such intruders.

Finding wholesome is impossible for divisions.

 

Vinathe Sharma

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