Thursday, December 19, 2024

The Great American Road Adventure: A Journey Through Time and Terrain (Summer 2024)

When the first rays of May's sunlight kissed the quiet streets of Baytown, Texas, I embarked on a journey that would span the length and breadth of America's diverse landscapes. This odyssey stretched from the first of May to mid-September, encapsulating a rich tapestry of places and stories. Each destination held me in its embrace for a week, offering just enough time to delve into its soul before moving on to the next.

The journey began in Electra, Texas, a quaint town where oil derricks stand as sentinels to a bygone era. The air carried the echoes of industry and resilience, a testament to the town's roots in the early 20th-century oil boom. From there, the open road led to San Rafael, New Mexico, a gateway to red rock vistas and ancient petroglyphs. This desert expanse was a canvas painted by millennia of wind and water.

Utah called next, with stops in Fillmore and Hilldale. Fillmore, once the territorial capital, whispered tales of pioneer ambition. Hilldale, nestled near the dramatic cliffs of Zion National Park, revealed a community shaped by both nature's grandeur and human complexity. 

Nevada unfolded its secrets in Goldfield and Crescent Valley. Goldfield's history was as rich as its name suggested, with stories of prospectors and boomtown dreams. Crescent Valley, a remote gem, offered a serene contrast, its isolation a balm for the soul.

Oregon's beauty greeted me in Grants Pass and Irrigon. Grants Pass, hugged by the Rogue River, invited adventures from whitewater rafting to serene forest hikes. Irrigon, on the Columbia River, presented agricultural simplicity against a backdrop of rolling hills and expansive skies.

Washington's charm emerged in Chewelah and Okanogan. Chewelah, a small mountain town, was alive with the spirit of outdoor pursuits and tight-knit community. Okanogan, with its sprawling orchards, stood as a tribute to the agricultural richness of the Pacific Northwest.

Crossing into Idaho, Caldwell welcomed me with its blend of small-town warmth and burgeoning wine culture. From there, Montana's Helena, Lambert, and North Dakota's Enderlin each added a unique thread to the narrative. Helena, with its gold rush history, Lambert with its rural tranquility, and Enderlin's prairie landscapes—all reminded me of the diverse identities that stitch this nation together.

Wisconsin's Park Falls, Michigan's Midland and Gladstone, and Illinois' Springfield marked the next phase of the journey. Each location offered a different rhythm: Park Falls with its lush forests, Midland's industrial innovation, Gladstone's lakeside serenity, and Springfield's historical gravitas as the land of Lincoln.

Finally, Arkansas welcomed me to Alexander, a place where the charm of the South greeted me like a long-lost friend. With each step closer to Baytown, I felt the pull of home but also the bittersweet realization that this extraordinary chapter was coming to a close.

In total, this incredible adventure spanned over 11,000 miles, weaving through the heart of America and connecting its diverse landscapes and communities. 

This journey was more than miles covered or places visited. It was an exploration of the heart of America, an experience that underscored the beauty of diversity and the unyielding spirit of its people. As I rolled back into Baytown, I carried not just memories, but the essence of a summer well spent, etched into my soul forever.

***

Generated using ChatGPT



Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Unspoken Paths...

Geeta sat alone in her room, scrolling through Facebook late one evening. Life had not been kind to her recently. Her marriage with Srikant, once full of promise, had become a silent battlefield. Years of mutual neglect, emotional distance, and misunderstandings had led them to the edge of divorce. They lived in the same house but in two completely different worlds. Their daughter, Anjana, now 16, had noticed the cracks in their marriage long before they became obvious. Yet, she tried to hold onto the idea of family, however fractured it might be.

As she absentmindedly scrolled through her feed, a familiar name popped up—a name from her distant past: Naresh. She stared at the screen for a moment, unsure if she should click on the friend request. Naresh was an old school friend, someone who had unknowingly captured her heart in their teenage years. He had been the one who stood out—confident, kind, and always with a smile that lit up a room. She had admired him secretly, but life had taken them in separate directions. And now, after 25 years, here he was, appearing on her feed like a ghost from the past.

Geeta clicked the request, and the conversation began. They exchanged pleasantries, reminiscing about their school days, their old friends, and the small things that had shaped their youth. Their words came easily, like they had never been apart. As the days went by, their chats grew deeper, more personal. Geeta confided in Naresh about her troubled marriage, the emotional distance she felt from Srikant, and her struggle to keep her family intact for the sake of Anjana. Naresh listened, offering words of support, but there was something else in his replies—a sense of hesitation. He didn’t want to become entangled in her family drama.

One evening, after a particularly emotional conversation, Geeta decided to take a bold step. She had been thinking about it for days—she wanted to meet Naresh in person. Her marriage with Srikant was almost over, and she was beginning to realize that she could not live in the shadow of a relationship that no longer served her. She was tired of feeling invisible. Maybe Naresh could offer her a fresh start, even if it was just in her mind.

Naresh agreed to meet, but when the time came, he hesitated. His heart was torn. He could sense Geeta’s loneliness, her need for emotional support, but he was not sure if he could be the one to fill that void. Moreover, he couldn’t shake off the thought that he might be betraying the role of a friend by encouraging her to divorce her husband. He knew that for Geeta, this wasn’t just about seeking a new love—it was about reclaiming a part of herself that had been lost for too long. But he didn’t want to destroy her family.

Their first meeting was tentative, almost awkward. They sat in a quiet café, surrounded by the hum of the world, yet their conversation felt distant, like they were still trying to navigate the space between them. Geeta spoke about her struggles, and Naresh listened, offering advice from a perspective outside of her immediate pain. He wasn’t sure how to be the moral support she needed without crossing lines. But as the evening wore on, something shifted. The old connection between them—the spark they once shared in school—reignited. The way Naresh looked at Geeta, the way he laughed at her jokes, it all felt so natural, like no time had passed at all.

Geeta felt a warmth she hadn’t experienced in years. She hadn’t realized how much she missed the feeling of being seen, of being admired. Naresh’s gaze lingered on her, and for a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it might be like to be with him. To feel cherished. Her heart fluttered, and it felt like a distant memory of her youth had returned.

Over the next few weeks, Naresh continued to meet Geeta and her daughter, Anjana, but only as a friend. He didn’t want to fuel the emotional fire between them. He would join them for lunch or a cup of coffee, offering words of encouragement, but nothing more. Geeta appreciated his company, and for a while, it felt like she had someone who understood her. Yet, she could not ignore the deepening feelings she had for him. It was hard to separate the past crush from the reality of the present. She found herself longing for his presence, hoping for something more, but she never expressed it. Instead, she buried those feelings deeper, afraid to ruin what she had already started rebuilding.

One evening, after a particularly romantic dinner at a quaint restaurant, Geeta and Naresh shared a quiet moment together, walking along the beach. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the water. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing, but Geeta’s heart raced with anticipation. She had to know—did Naresh feel the same?

“Naresh,” she began softly, her voice trembling with emotion. “I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel something for you. You’ve made me feel alive again in ways I didn’t think were possible. I’ve been so lost for so long... but with you, I feel seen. I feel like I can be myself again.”

Naresh stopped walking and turned to face her. The intensity in his eyes made her pulse quicken. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering. “Geeta, I never meant to make you feel this way,” he said softly. “But I’ve been feeling something too. Something I can’t ignore.”

For a moment, they just stood there, the tension between them palpable. The world seemed to fade away as Naresh took a step closer to her. He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze never leaving hers. Slowly, tenderly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft kiss. It was like a spark had ignited, and Geeta’s heart soared with the weight of the moment. For the first time in years, she felt wanted, cherished—like the world had shifted just for them.

The kiss deepened as their emotions spilled out, unguarded and raw. There was a hunger there, an unspoken need to connect in a way neither of them had expected. Geeta felt her body respond to his touch, the years of longing and unmet desire dissolving into the heat of the moment. She pulled him closer, her hands tracing the contours of his chest, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. She needed him—needed to feel alive again.

Naresh, too, was lost in the moment, but part of him held back. He knew that emotions were running high, and he wanted to be sure that this wasn’t just about escaping the pain of their respective lives. When they finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, Naresh cupped her face gently.

“Geeta,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want this. But we need to take a step back. You deserve more than just an escape, and I don’t want to be the one who blinds you to what’s truly right for you. We need to be careful.”

Geeta nodded, her heart pounding. She understood. But in that moment, the intensity of what they shared had shifted something deep within her. She could no longer deny how much she wanted him, and that longing only grew stronger with each passing day.

*****

As time went on, the tension between Naresh and Geeta continued to simmer. Yet, Naresh kept a respectful distance, always mindful of the emotional chaos surrounding their budding relationship. He knew that he was walking a fine line, but he also cared deeply for Geeta.

One day, Anjana, who had begun to notice the growing closeness between her mother and Naresh, found herself wrestling with feelings she hadn’t fully understood. She, too, felt an undeniable attraction to him. The kindness, the support, the way he seemed to be a steadying force in their lives—it all made her heart race when he was near.

One afternoon, while her mother was busy in the kitchen, Anjana found herself alone with Naresh in the living room. She sat beside him, her heart pounding as she tried to muster the courage to act on the feelings she couldn’t deny. She leaned in, her eyes locking with his. The air between them crackled with tension as she hesitated before speaking.

“Naresh,” she whispered, her voice low, “I... I can’t help how I feel.”

Naresh, immediately sensing the shift, gently took a step back, his expression serious yet kind. “Anjana, you’re an incredible young woman, and you deserve someone who can love you the way you need to be loved. But I can’t be that person for you. I respect you too much to let this go any further.”

Anjana’s heart broke, but at the same time, she respected him more than ever. He had shown her the importance of boundaries, the strength in doing what was right, even when it was hard. “I understand,” she said softly, her voice steady. “Thank you, Naresh.”

From that moment on, Anjana saw Naresh in a new light. She admired him not only for his kindness but for the way he respected both her mother and her, even when it meant making difficult choices. The respect he showed her in that moment was something she would carry with her as she grew into her own understanding of love and boundaries.

*****

In the end, the inevitable happened—Srikant, bitter and unable to reconcile the emotional distance between him and Geeta, made the decision to leave. He had never been able to accept the changes in their relationship, the quiet erosion of what they had once shared. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Srikant said one evening, his voice cold and distant. “You’ve changed, Geeta. And so have I. There’s no point in pretending that things are fine when they’re not. I’m leaving.”

Geeta, though heartbroken by the finality of his words, knew deep down that it had been coming for a long time. She had tried to hold onto something that had long slipped through her fingers. Her marriage with Srikant was over—not just in a legal sense, but emotionally, it had already died a slow death. Naresh had offered her an emotional respite, a chance to feel valued, and though their relationship was complicated, she was learning to navigate a life beyond the confines of her marriage.

Anjana, though initially devastated by the breakup, soon found herself taking the role of emotional support for her mother. The family, broken yet still intact, began to rebuild—slowly, but surely. Geeta, with Naresh’s support, found the strength to let go of the past and focus on the future.

*****

The story came full circle. Srikant’s departure, though painful, was the catalyst that allowed Geeta to start living her life for herself. She no longer had to hide her desires or her feelings. And though she would always carry the love and respect for Naresh, she understood that her path forward was about more than any one man—it was about her reclaiming her life, her identity, and her strength.

In time, Naresh and Geeta’s relationship, though complicated by the past, blossomed into something deep and meaningful. They chose to take their time, knowing that love would grow naturally, without the pressure of rushing.

Anjana, watching her mother find happiness again, grew into a more confident and self-assured young woman. She learned that love was not about possession, but about respect, patience, and the ability to choose what was right for herself.

Together, they forged a new path—one where respect, understanding, and love existed in their own ways, without destroying the delicate balance of their lives.

*****

Generated by ChatGPT based on my story idea. 


ಹುಧಾದಲ್ಲೊಂದು ಹಜಾಮತಿ ಹಡಾಗತಿ; ರಾಯಲ್ ಹೇರಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಸಲೂನ್ ಕನವರಿಕೆಗಳು...

ಹುಧಾ ಮಧ್ಯೆ ಇರುವ ನವನಗರದ ಸಲೂನ್ ಒಂದರಲ್ಲಿ ಪಿತಾಜಿಯೊಬ್ಬ ಪಿಶಾಚಿ ರೂಪ ತಾಳಿ ಮಗನಿಗೆ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಮಾಡಿದ ನಾಪಿತನಿಗೆ ಮನಸೋ ಇಚ್ಛೆ ಥಳಿಸಿದನಂತೆ. ಮಗನಿಗೆ ಮಾಡಿದ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಸರಿಯಾಗಿಲ್ಲ ಎಂದು ಅವನ ಆಕ್ಷೇಪ. "ಬೋಡಿಕೆ, ನನ್ನ ಮಗನನ್ನು ಮಂಗ ಮಾಡಿಬಿಟ್ಟೆಯಲ್ಲೋ ಭೋಕುಡ್ ಛಾಪ್!!!" ಎಂದು ಅಬ್ಬರಿಸಿ ಬೊಬ್ಬಿರಿದು ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಮಾಡಿದವನ ಮೇಲೆ ಫುಲ್ ಧನಾ ಧನ್ ಧನಾ ಧನ್.

ಕಾಲ ಹೆಂಗೆ ಬದಲಾಗುತ್ತದೆ ನೋಡಿ. ನಮ್ಮ ಕಾಲದಲ್ಲಿ ಅಂದರೆ ಒಂದು ನಲವತ್ತು ವರ್ಷಗಳ ಹಿಂದೆ ಕೂಡ ಪಾಲಕರು ಮಕ್ಕಳ ಹೇರ್ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ವಿಷಯವಾಗಿ ಜಗಳ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಾ ಸಲೂನಿಗೆ ಧಾವಿಸಿ ಬರುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ಅವರದ್ದೂ ಆಕ್ಷೇಪ ಇರುತ್ತಿತ್ತು. ಅದು ಬೇರೇನೇ ತರಹ ಇರುತ್ತಿತ್ತು. "ಇಷ್ಟ್ಯಾಕ ಉದ್ದ ಕೂದಲು ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಕಳಿಸಿಯೋ??? ಇನ್ನೂ ಸಣ್ಣ ಮಾಡು!!!" ಶಿವನೇ ಶಂಭುಲಿಂಗ!!! ಆಗಲೇ ಜೀರೋ ಮಷೀನ್ ಇಟ್ಟು almost ತಿರುಪತಿ ಗುಂಡು ಹೊಡೆದಿದ್ದರೂ ತಲೆಯನ್ನು ಇನ್ನೆಷ್ಟು ಗುಂಡು ಹೊಡೆಯಲು ಸಾಧ್ಯ ಎಂಬಂತೆ ನಾಪಿತ ಕೊಂಯ್ಯಾ ಪಂಯ್ಯಾ ಅಂದರೂ ಇವರು ಬಿಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದಿಲ್ಲ. ಕೊಟ್ಟ ಅಮೂಲ್ಯ ಎರಡು ರೂಪಾಯಿಗೆ ಬರೋಬ್ಬರಿ ವಸೂಲಿ ಆಗಲೇಬೇಕು. ಈ ಪಾಲಕರ ಕಾಟ ತಡೆಯಲಾಗದೇ ನಾಪಿತ out of turn ಈ ಬಾಲಕನನ್ನು ಹಜಾಮತಿ ಖುರ್ಚಿ ಮೇಲಿನ ಹಲಗೆ ಮೇಲೆ ಹತ್ತಿಸಿ ಮತ್ತೊಂದು ರೌಂಡು ಮಷೀನ್ ಹಚ್ಚಿ, ಇನ್ನೂ ಕೂದಲು ಉಳಿದರೆ,  ಮತ್ತೂ ಸಣ್ಣ ಮಾಡು ಅಂತ ಪಿರಿ ಪಿರಿ ಮಾಡಿದರೆ ಒಣ ಒಣ ಕತ್ತಿಯಿಂದಲೇ ಬೋಳು ಕೆರೆದು ಹೆರೆದು ಬಿಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದ. ಆ ಒಣ ಒಣ ಹಜಾಮತಿ ಕತ್ತಿ ಮೃದು ಮೃದು ಚರ್ಮದ ಮೇಲೆ ಅತ್ಯಾಚಾರ ಮಾಡಿದಂತಾಗಿ ಆ ಬಾಲಕ ಅವನಿಗೇನು ಹಜಾಮತಿ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದಾರೋ ಅಥವಾ ಸುನ್ನತಿ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದರೋ ಎಂಬಂತೆ ಒದರಾಡಿ ಚೀರಾಡಿ ರಂಪ ಮಾಡಿದ್ದೂ ಇದೆ. ಮೊದಲೇ ಎಬಡೇಶಿ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಮಾಡಿಸಿಕೊಂಡು ಮಾನವನಿಂದ ಮಂಗನಾದ ಬೇಸರ. ಶಾಲೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಇತರರು ಚುಡಾಯಿಸುತ್ತಾರೆ ಎಂಬ ಆತಂಕ. ಮೇಲಿಂದ ಈ ಚರ್ಮ ಸುಲಿಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳುವ ದಾರುಣ ಶಿಕ್ಷೆ. ಉಸಿರುಬಿಟ್ಟರೆ "ಇನ್ನು ಬೀಳ್ತಾವ ನೋಡು !!!" ಎನ್ನುವ ಬೆದರಿಕೆ ಪಾಲಕರಿಂದ. ಪಾಪ. ಬೀಳೋದು "ಕಡತ" (ಹೊಡೆತ) ಎಂದು ಬೀಳಿಸಿಕೊಂಡವರಿಗೆ ಗೊತ್ತಿರುತ್ತದೆ. 

ಅದು ಅಂದು. ಆಗ ಮಕ್ಕಳನ್ನು ಸಲೂನಿಗೆ ವಾಪಸ್ ಕರೆತಂದು ಹಾಗೆಲ್ಲಾ ಜಗಳ ಕಾಯುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ಈಗ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಸರಿಯಾಗಿಲ್ಲ ಎಂದು ಬಂದು ಜಗಳ, ಹೊಡೆದಾಟ ಎಲ್ಲ ನಡೆದುಹೋಗುತ್ತವೆ.

ಆಗ ಧಾರವಾಡದ ಮಾಳಮಡ್ಡಿಯ ಸ್ಟೇಷನ್ ರೋಡ್ ಮೇಲಿದ್ದ ರಾಯಲ್ ಹೇರ್ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಸಲೂನಿಗೆ ಹೋಗಿ ಕೂತುಬಿಟ್ಟರೆ ನಿಮಗೆ ಆ ಕಾಲದ ಸಾಮಾಜಿಕ ಸ್ಥಿತಿ ಗತಿಗಳ ಸಂಪೂರ್ಣ ಪರಿಚಯವಾಗಿಬಿಡುತ್ತಿತ್ತು. ಬೆಳ್ಳಂಬೆಳಿಗ್ಗೆ ಮುಲ್ಲಾನ ಹಾಲಿನ ಡೇರಿಗೆ ಹಾಲು ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಂಡು ಹೋಗಲು ಬರುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಗೃಹಿಣಿಯರು ಸೀದಾ ಹೇರ್ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಸಲೂನ್ ಒಳಗೆ ತಲೆ (ಮಾತ್ರ) ಹಾಕಿಬಿಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ದೇಹ ಹೊರಗೆ ಇರುತ್ತಿತ್ತು. ಅದರ ಉದ್ದೇಶ ಪಾಳಿ ಹಚ್ಚುವುದು. "ನಮ್ಮ ಹುಡುಗ ಬರ್ತಾನ. ನಮ್ಮ ಮನಿಯವರು ಬರ್ತಾರ. ಅಜ್ಜ ಬರ್ತದ..." ಎಂದು ಹೇಳಿ ನಾಪಿತ ಪಾಂಡ್ಯಾನ ಹತ್ತಿರ ಹಜಾಮತಿಗೆ appointment ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಳ್ಳುವುದೇ ಪಾಳಿ ಹಚ್ಚುವುದು. ಇನ್ನು ಕೆಲವು ಗೃಹಿಣಿಯರು ಮನೆಗೆ ಬರಲು ಆಹ್ವಾನ ಕೊಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. "ಮುದುಕಿಗೆ ಮಾಡೋದದ ಬಾರಪಾ..." ಮನೆಗೆ ಹೋಗಿ ಪಾಂಡ್ಯಾ ಮುದುಕಿಗೆ ಏನು ಮಾಡಿಬರುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಎಂಬ ಕೆಟ್ಟ ಕುತೂಹಲ ಮೂಡುವುದು ಸಹಜ. ಏನಿಲ್ಲ ಹೋಗಿ ಮುದುಕಿಗೆ ಫಣಿಯಮ್ಮ ಕಟ್ ಹೊಡೆದು ಬ್ರಾಹ್ಮಣ ವಿಧವೆಗೆ ಶಿರೋಮುಂಡನ ಮಾಡಿ ಉಭಯ ಕುಶಲೋಪರಿ ಮಾತಾಡಿ ಬರುತ್ತಿದ್ದ. ಅದೇ ಪಾಂಡ್ಯಾ ಮುದುಕಿಗೆ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಕಟಿಂಗ್. ನಮ್ಮ ಕಾಲದಲ್ಲಿ ಅದು ಕಮ್ಮಿಯಾಗಿತ್ತು ಆದರೆ "ಮನಿಗೆ ಬಂದು ಮುದುಕಿಗೆ ಮಾಡಿ ಹೋಗಪಾ" ಅನ್ನುವ ಬ್ರಾಹ್ಮಣ ಮುತ್ತೈದೆಯರು ಆಗಾಗ ಕಾಣುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ಮಕ್ಕಳಿಗೆ ಓಕೆ. ಗಂಡನಿಗೆ ಓಕೆ. ಆದರೆ ಮುದುಕಿಗೆ ಪಾಳಿ ಹಚ್ಚಲು ತಾವೇಕೆ ಹೋಗಬೇಕು ಎನ್ನುವ ಬಿಗುಮಾನ ಕೆಲವರಿಗೆ. ಅದು ಮುದುಕಿ ಉರ್ಫ್ ಅತ್ತೆ ಮೇಲಿನ ಕೋಪವೂ ಇರಬಹುದು. ಅಂತವರು ತಮ್ಮ ತಮ್ಮ ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಕೆಲಸ ಮಾಡಿಕೊಂಡಿರುತ್ತಿದ್ದ 'ಬೂಬು'ಗಳನ್ನು ಕಳಿಸುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ಅವು ತಮ್ಮ ಹರಕು ಮುರುಕು ಉರ್ದು ಮಿಶ್ರಿತ ಕನ್ನಡದಲ್ಲಿ ಏನು ಹೇಳುತ್ತಿದ್ದವೋ ಅದು ಮೂಲ ತೆಲುಗು ಭಾಷಿಕನಾದ ಪಾಂಡ್ಯಾನಿಗೆ ಮಾತ್ರ ತಿಳಿಯುವಂತೆ ಇರುತ್ತಿತ್ತು. 

ನಾಪಿತ ಪಾಂಡ್ಯಾ ಮತ್ತು ಅವನ ಇಬ್ಬರು ಸಹೋದರರಿಗೆ ಈ ಮುಂಜಾನೆ ಹಾಲಿನ ಗಿರಾಕಿ ಗೃಹಿಣಿಯರು ಯಾರಿಗೆ ಪಾಳಿ ಹಚ್ಚುತ್ತಿದ್ದಾರೆ ಎಂದು ಅದು ಹೇಗೆ ತಿಳಿಯುತ್ತಿತ್ತೋ ಗೊತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ. ಅಷ್ಟ್ರರಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾರಾದರೂ ಮಾಮ (ಮಾಳಮಡ್ಡಿ ಮಹನೀಯ) ಒಬ್ಬರು "ನನ್ನ ಹೆಂಡ್ತಿ ಪಾಳಿ ಹಚ್ಚಿ ಹೋಗಿದ್ದಳಲ್ಲ. ಬಂದೆ ನೋಡಪಾ. ಲಗೂನ ಮಾಡಿ ಬಿಡಪಾ. ಆಪೀಸಿಗೆ ಬ್ಯಾರೆ ಹೋಗಬೇಕು," ಅನ್ನುತ್ತಾ ಒಳಗೆ ಬಂದು ಇದ್ದ ಮೂರು ಖುರ್ಚಿಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾವುದರ ಮೇಲೆ ರಾರಾಜಿಸಲಿ ಎಂದು ನೋಡಿದರೆ ಮೂರರ ಮೇಲೂ ಬೇರೆಯವರು ಇರುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. "ಪಾಳಿ ಹಚ್ಚಿ ಬಂದೇನಿ ಅಂದಳಲ್ಲೋ ನನ್ನ ಹೆಂಡ್ತಿ !!! ತಡಾ ಆಗ್ತದೇನು ?? " ಎನ್ನುವ ಅವರ ಆಕ್ಷೇಪ ಫ್ರೀ. ಪಾಂಡ್ಯಾ ಅವರನ್ನು ರಮಿಸಿ, "ಒಂದ್ ನಿಮಿಟ್ ಪೇಪರ್ ಓದ್ರಿ," ಎಂದು ಕೂಡಿಸುತ್ತಿದ್ದ. ಬಿಟ್ಟಿಯಾಗಿ ಓದಲು ಸಿಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಸಂಯುಕ್ತ ಕರ್ನಾಟಕ ಓದಲೆಂದೇ ಕೆಲವರು ಬಂದು ಕೂತಿರುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ರೊಕ್ಕ ಕೊಟ್ಟು ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಮಾಡಿಸಲು ಬಂದ ಗಿರಾಕಿಗಳು ತುಂಬಿ ಜಾಗವಿಲ್ಲದಾಗ ಅವರು ಮನಸ್ಸಿಲ್ಲದ ಮನಸ್ಸಿನಿಂದ ಪೇಪರ್ ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಹೊರಗೆ ಹೋಗಬೇಕಾದ ಅನಿವಾರ್ಯತೆ ಬರುತ್ತಿತ್ತು. ಮಾಳಮಡ್ಡಿಯೇ ಒಂದು ಇಕ್ಕಟ್ಟಾದ ಕಿಷ್ಕಿಂಧೆ. ರಾಯಲ್ ಹೇರ್ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಸಲೂನ್ ಮತ್ತೂ ಇಕ್ಕಟ್ಟಾದ ಟಾಯ್ಲೆಟ್ಟಿಗಿಂತ ಚಿಕ್ಕದಾದ ಜಾಗ. ಮೂರು ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಖುರ್ಚಿ. ಕಾಯುವವರಿಗೆ ಒಂದು ಬೆಂಚ್. ಅಷ್ಟೇ.

ಇನ್ನೊಮ್ಮೆ ಮತ್ತೊಬ್ಬ ಮಹನೀಯರು ತಮ್ಮ ಇಬ್ಬರು ಪುತ್ರರತ್ನಗಳನ್ನು ಕರೆದುಕೊಂಡು ಬಂದಿದ್ದರು. ಇಬ್ಬರೂ ಮಕ್ಕಳು ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಜಾಬಾದ್ ಇದ್ದಂತೆ ಇದ್ದರು. "ನನಗ ಸಣ್ಣನೆ ಗಾಂಧಿ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಬ್ಯಾಡ. ನಾ ಶಟಿಂಗ್ ಮಾಡಸ್ತೇನಿ," ಅಂತ ಮಕ್ಕಳು ಅಲ್ಲೇ ಹಠಯೋಗ ಅಂದರೆ ಹಟ ಮಾಡಲು ಆರಂಭಿಸಿದರು. ಸೆಟ್ಟಿಂಗ್ ಎಂಬುದು ಧಾರವಾಡಿಗರ ಬಾಯಲ್ಲಿ ಶಟಿಂಗ್ ಆಗಿದ್ದು ದುರಂತ ಅನ್ನಿಸಿದರೂ ಆ ಶಟಿಂಗ್ ಕೇಶವಿನ್ಯಾಸ ಮಾತ್ರ ಆಕರ್ಷಕವಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಮಿಡ್ಲ್ ಕ್ಲಾಸ್ ಅಪ್ಪ ಅವರನ್ನು ಅಲ್ಲಿಯೇ ಹಿಡಿದು ಬಡಿಯಬೇಕಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಆದರೆ ಸಲೂನ್ ಎಷ್ಟು ತುಂಬಿತ್ತು ಅಂದರೆ ಅವರನ್ನು ಅಲ್ಲೇ ಬಗ್ಗಿಸಿ ಬಗ್ಗಿಸಿ ಬಾರಿಸುವಷ್ಟು ಜಾಗ ನಿಜವಾಗಿಯೂ ಇರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಅಪ್ಪ ತನ್ನ ಟ್ರಂಪ್ ಕಾರ್ಡ್ ಒಗೆದ. "ಪಾಂಡ್ಯಾ, ಇವರಿಗೆ ಹ್ಯಾಂಗ ಬೇಕು ಹಾಂಗ ಹಜಾಮತಿ ಮಾಡಪಾ. ರೊಕ್ಕನೂ ಅವರ ಕಡೆನೇ ಇಸ್ಕೊ. ಮಾಡಿ ಕಳಿಸು. ನಾ ಮತ್ತೊಮ್ಮೆ ಬರ್ತೇನಿ," ಎಂದು ಹೊರಡಲು ಸಿದ್ಧನಾಗಿಬಿಟ್ಟ. ಮುಂದೇನಾಯಿತು ಎಂದು ಹೇಳುವ ಅವಶ್ಯಕತೆ ಇಲ್ಲ ಅಲ್ಲವೇ!!?? ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಸಮಯದ ನಂತರ ಒಂದು ದೊಡ್ಡ ಗಾಂಧಿ ಮತ್ತು ಎರಡು ಸಣ್ಣ ಗಾಂಧಿಗಳು ಫ್ರೆಶ್ ಆಗಿ ಮುಂಡಾಯಿಸಿಕೊಂಡಿದ್ದ ತಲೆ ಸವರಿಕೊಳ್ಳುತ್ತಾ, "ತಲಿ ಹಗುರ ಆತಲಾ??" ಎಂದು ತಲೆ ಹಗುರ ಮಾಡಿಕೊಳ್ಳುವ ಅದ್ಭುತ ಐಡಿಯಾ ಕೊಟ್ಟ ತನ್ನ ತಲೆಯನ್ನೇ ಮೆಚ್ಚಿಕೊಂಡು ಮಕ್ಕಳ ಕಡೆ ನೋಡಿದರೆ ಅವು ರೆಕ್ಕ ಪುಕ್ಕ ತರಿದ ಉಷ್ಟ್ರಪಕ್ಷಿಗಳ ಲುಕ್ ಕೊಟ್ಟವು. "ಮಸ್ತ್ ಆಗ್ಯದಲ್ಲೇ ಪುಟ್ಯಾ ಹಜಾಮತಿ," ಎನ್ನುವ ಬಿಟ್ಟಿ ಮೆಚ್ಚುಗೆ ಪಿತಾಜಿ ಎಂಬ ಪಿಶಾಚಿಯಿಂದ.

ಈಗ ಹಿರಿಯ ಪಾಂಡ್ಯಾ ಇಲ್ಲ. ಪಾಂಡ್ಯಾನ ಇಬ್ಬರು ಸಹೋದರರು ಇದ್ದಾರಂತೆ. ಅವರ ಸಲೂನ್ ಗೌಳ್ಯಾರ (ಗೌಳಿಗರ) ದಡ್ಡಿಯ ಕಡೆ ಶಿಫ್ಟ್ ಆಗಿದೆಯಂತೆ. ಆಕಡೆ ಹೋದಾಗ ಮಾಡಿಸಿಕೊಂಡು ಬನ್ನಿ. ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಮಾಡಿಸಿಕೊಂಡು ಬನ್ನಿ ಎಂದು. ಉದ್ದ ಕೂದಲು ಬಿಟ್ಟ ವಿದ್ಯಾರ್ಥಿಗಳನ್ನು ಕಂಡರೆ ಉರಿದುಬೀಳುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ನಮ್ಮ ಗುಂಜೀಕರ್ ಮಾಸ್ತರ್ ಒಮ್ಮೆ ಕ್ಲಾಸಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಉಗ್ರ  ನರಸಿಂಹನ ಅವತಾರ ತಾಳಿ, 'ಅಲ್ಲೆ ಗೌಳ್ಯಾರ ದಡ್ಡಿಯಾಗ ಎಮ್ಮಿ ಬೋಳಿಸುತ್ತಿರುತ್ತಾರ. ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಹೋಗಿ ಬೋಳಿಸಿಕೊಂಡು ಬಾ. ನಾಳೆ ಸಾಲಿಗೆ ಬರೋದ್ರಾಗ ಹಜಾಮತಿ ಆಗಿರಬೇಕು. ಇಲ್ಲಂದ್ರ ನಾನೇ ಖುದ್ ಕರಕೊಂಡು ಹೋಗಿ ಎಮ್ಮಿ ಬೋಳಿಸುವರವರ ಕಡೆ ನಿನ್ನ ಬೋಳಿಸಿಕೊಂಡು ಬರತೇನಿ...ಮಗನss" ಎಂದು ಅಂದು ಅಬ್ಬರಿಸಿದ್ದಕ್ಕೂ ಇಂದು ರಾಯಲ್ ಹೇರ್ ಕಟಿಂಗ್ ಸಲೂನ್ ಎಮ್ಮೆ ಬೋಳಿಸುವವರ ಅಲ್ಲ ಸಾಕುವವರ ಬಡಾವಣೆಗೆ ಶಿಫ್ಟಾಗಿದ್ದೂ ಕಾಕತಾಳೀಯ ಅನ್ನಿಸುವುದಿಲ್ಲ.

***

ಇದು ಶಾಲಾ ಮಿತ್ರರ ವಾಟ್ಸಾಪ್ ಗುಂಪಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಬರೆದು ಹಾಕಿದ್ದು. ಈಗಿತ್ತಲಾಗಿನ ಚೂರು ಪಾರು ಬರವಣಿಗೆ ಎಲ್ಲ ಅಲ್ಲೇ ಆಗುತ್ತಿದೆ. ಇಲ್ಲಿ ಹಾಕಬಹುದಾದವನ್ನು ಇಲ್ಲಿಯೂ ಹಾಕಿರುತ್ತೇನೆ. 

Tuesday, December 17, 2024

The Forgotten Shadows...

Chapter 1: A Journey Back in Time

Adil Ahmed had just turned 40, a milestone that weighed heavily on his heart. The corporate city life he had built for himself was polished but hollow, like a golden cage. His achievements—material comforts, a respected position, and a circle of acquaintances—were no balm to the gnawing emptiness that seemed to grow year by year. He felt uprooted, adrift in a life that no longer resonated with him.

One night, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he found himself staring at an old family photograph. His childhood village, nestled in a valley surrounded by lush green hills, looked idyllic and far removed from his current reality. He hadn’t visited the village in decades, not since his teenage years. Something stirred within him, a longing to go back—not just to a place, but to a version of himself he felt he had lost.

And so, after weeks of deliberation, Adil packed his belongings and made the journey back. As the city’s gray skyline gave way to the rolling countryside, he felt an odd mix of excitement and apprehension. "Will it still feel like home?" he wondered.

Chapter 2: The Village of Whispers

The village had changed little over the years. Narrow dirt roads meandered past rows of modest houses, their walls weathered but sturdy. The banyan trees that lined the streets stood tall, their roots twisting into the earth like ancient veins. It was quieter than Adil remembered, but the silence felt charged, as though the land itself was holding its breath.

His family home was a modest but proud structure, its whitewashed walls now faded to a soft gray. The courtyard was overgrown, and the wooden gate groaned under his touch, but the place still had a heartbeat. As Adil stepped inside, he felt a strange pull, as though the house itself was relieved by his presence.

For the first few days, Adil busied himself with cleaning and reconnecting with his neighbors, most of whom were elders who remembered his family fondly. They welcomed him warmly, though he noticed a strange hesitation in their voices when he mentioned certain parts of the village—like the abandoned school building or the old banyan grove.

At night, as he lay in bed, he began to feel the weight of the village’s atmosphere. It wasn’t oppressive, exactly, but there was something off. The wind seemed to whisper through the trees in ways that sent chills down his spine.

Chapter 3: A Familiar Encounter

One late afternoon, as the sun dipped low and bathed the village in golden light, Adil decided to take a walk. He wandered through the narrow lanes, memories flooding back with each step. He passed the old well where he used to fetch water as a child and the field where he had once flown kites with his childhood friends.

As he turned a corner, he saw two figures approaching from the distance. They moved with an elegance that felt out of place in the rustic surroundings. As they drew nearer, Adil’s breath caught in his throat.

“Mariam? Amina?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The two women smiled, their faces radiant and unchanged. It was as though time had frozen them in his memories and now released them back into his life.

“Adil!” Mariam called out, her voice warm and familiar. She was the livelier of the two, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous energy. Amina stood slightly behind her, quieter but no less striking. Her serene demeanor had always balanced Mariam’s fiery spirit.

Adil was overwhelmed. “How... How are you here? It’s been so long!” he exclaimed, a mix of joy and disbelief coursing through him.

“We could say the same about you,” Mariam teased. “You disappeared on us, didn’t you?”

Chapter 4: The Reawakening of Friendship

The reunion felt almost too good to be true. Over the next few days, Adil spent every waking moment with Mariam and Amina, exploring the village and revisiting old haunts. Their laughter echoed through the streets as they reminisced about their childhood escapades.

Adil noticed, however, that the villagers seemed uneasy around his friends. Some avoided them altogether, while others offered stiff smiles before quickly walking away. When Adil brought it up, Mariam dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “People here have always been superstitious,” she said with a light laugh.

Despite their joyous camaraderie, Adil couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Mariam and Amina never spoke about their lives after school, skillfully steering conversations back to their shared past. They also avoided certain parts of the village, particularly the outskirts where the forest grew dense. Adil’s curiosity began to gnaw at him.

Chapter 5: Dreams Turn to Nightmares

Adil’s nights grew restless. At first, his dreams were harmless—visions of their childhood games and the laughter they shared. But soon, the dreams darkened.

In one, he stood in the forest, surrounded by towering trees. Mariam and Amina appeared, their faces glowing with an unnatural light. "Come with us," they said, their voices echoing in an eerie harmony. When Adil hesitated, their smiles twisted into snarls, and their hands reached out, their nails like claws.

In another dream, Adil was running through the village, pursued by shadows that seemed to take the shape of his friends. Their laughter turned into sinister cackles as they whispered his name in a language he didn’t understand.

Each time, he woke up drenched in sweat, his heart pounding. He began to dread falling asleep, fearing what his subconscious might reveal.

Chapter 6: The Truth Unveiled

Determined to understand what was happening, Adil began digging into the village’s history. He visited the local library, searched old records, and even questioned the elders who had known his friends.

What he discovered left him cold. Thirty years ago, Mariam and Amina had died in a tragic car accident. Their vehicle had veered off the road during a storm, plunging into a ravine. Both had been declared dead at the scene, and their funeral had been attended by the entire village.

Adil felt the ground shift beneath him. "If they died thirty years ago, who—what—are they now?"

Chapter 7: The Confrontation

That evening, Mariam and Amina invited Adil to the banyan grove, their favorite childhood spot. The air was heavy, and the shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally long as the sun set.

Mariam was the first to speak. “You’ve been distant lately, Adil. Is something wrong?” Her voice was sweet, but her eyes betrayed a dangerous glint.

“I know the truth,” Adil said, his voice steady despite the fear rising in his chest. “I know you both died years ago.”

The air grew cold. Mariam’s smile twisted into a sneer, her features contorting in ways that no human face should. “You weren’t supposed to find out,” she hissed, stepping closer.

Amina, however, looked at Adil with sorrow. “We didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said softly. “But Mariam... she doesn’t want to let go.”

Chapter 8: The Power of Faith

Mariam lunged at Adil, her hands now clawed and icy. "You’re ours now!" she shrieked. Adil struggled, but her grip was unrelenting. Amina tried to intervene, but Mariam swatted her aside like a doll.

Just as Adil felt himself being pulled into darkness, the distant sound of the Azaan—the Islamic call to prayer—broke through the night. The sacred chant reverberated through the air, growing louder and stronger.

Mariam screamed, her form flickering like a flame caught in the wind. "No! Stop it!" she cried, but the Azaan’s power was undeniable. Amina, her face filled with relief, turned to Adil one last time. “Thank you,” she whispered before both women dissolved into the night.

Chapter 9: A New Dawn

Adil collapsed to the ground, the weight of the ordeal finally lifting. As dawn broke, he felt a profound sense of peace, as though a heavy burden had been lifted from his soul.

In the days that followed, Adil visited the mosque regularly, offering prayers of gratitude. He realized that faith and light had saved him, pushing back the shadows that had sought to claim him.

Though Mariam and Amina were gone, they remained a part of him—not as ghosts, but as bittersweet reminders of a past that could never be reclaimed. And as Adil looked to the future, he knew he had been given a second chance—not just to live, but to truly belong.

***

Credits: Generated by ChatGPT (Artificial Intelligence tool) based on the story outline given by me. 

I was curious how the story would be. It turned out to be quite different than my line of thinking but a lot of my imagined plot came to life. Very impressive!!!

Wonderful job, ChatGPT!!! :) :)



Saturday, December 14, 2024

ಎಸ್. ಎಂ. ಕೃಷ್ಣ ಮಾನವೀಯತೆ ಮೆರೆದಾಗ...

ಕರ್ನಾಟಕದ ಹಿರಿಯ ರಾಜಕಾರಣಿ, ಮಾಜಿ ಮುಖ್ಯಮಂತ್ರಿ, ಮಾಜಿ ಕೇಂದ್ರ ಸಚಿವ  ಎಸ್. ಎಂ. ಕೃಷ್ಣ ಕೆಲವು ದಿನಗಳ ಹಿಂದೆ ನಿಧನರಾದರು.

ಕೃಷ್ಣರನ್ನು ಬಲ್ಲ ಅನೇಕ ಪತ್ರಕರ್ತರು, ಪರಿಚಯಸ್ಥರು ಕೃಷ್ಣರ ದೀರ್ಘ ಜೀವನದ ಅನೇಕ ಘಟನೆಗಳ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಬರೆದಿದ್ದಾರೆ. ನನಗೆ ನೆನಪಿಗೆ ಬಂದ ಘಟನೆ ಇದು.

೧ ೯ ೯ ೯ - ೨ ೦ ೦ ೦  ಇಸವಿಯ ಸಮಯ. ಆಗಷ್ಟೇ ಕೃಷ್ಣ ಕರ್ನಾಟಕದ ಮುಖ್ಯಮಂತ್ರಿಯಾಗಿದ್ದರು. ೧೯ ೯ ೪ - ೯ ೯  ರ ವರೆಗೆ ಆಡಳಿತ ನಡೆಸಿದ್ದ ಜನತಾದಳ ಚುನಾವಣೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಅದ್ಯಾವ ದಾರುಣ ರೀತಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ನೆಲಕಚ್ಚಿತ್ತು ಎಂದರೆ ಮುಖ್ಯಮಂತ್ರಿಯಾಗಿ ಅವಧಿ ಮುಗಿಸಿದ್ದ ಜೆ. ಎಚ್. ಪಟೇಲರಂತಹ ಘಟಾನುಘಟಿ ರಾಜಕಾರಣಿ ಕೂಡ ತಮ್ಮ ಸ್ವಕ್ಷೇತ ಚನ್ನಗಿರಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಸೋತುಹೋಗಿದ್ದರು. 

ಚುನಾವಣೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಸೋತು ಮಾಜಿ ಶಾಶಕ,  ಮಾಜಿ ಮುಖ್ಯಮಂತ್ರಿಯಾಗಿದ್ದ ಪಟೇಲರು ಬೆಂಗಳೂರಿನಲ್ಲಿ ನೆಲೆಸಿದ್ದರು. ಆಗ ಒಂದು ಆಘಾತಕರ ಸುದ್ದಿ ಪಟೇಲ್  ಕುಟುಂಬಕ್ಕೆ ಬರಸಿಡಿಲಿನಂತೆ ಬಂದು ಅಪ್ಪಳಿಸಿತು. ದಾವಣಗೆರೆ ಸಮೀಪದಲ್ಲಿ ಭೀಕರ ರಸ್ತೆ ಅಪಘಾತವಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಅದರಲ್ಲಿ ಪಟೇಲರ ಮಗ, ಸೊಸೆ ಮತ್ತು ಇನ್ನೂ ಹಸುಗೂಸಾಗಿದ್ದ ಮೊಮ್ಮಗು ತೀವ್ರವಾಗಿ ಗಾಯಗೊಂಡಿದ್ದರು. ಮೊಮ್ಮಗು ಬದುಕುಳಿಯಲಿಲ್ಲ.

ಸುದ್ದಿ ತಿಳಿದ ತಕ್ಷಣ ಪಟೇಲರು, ಅವರ ಪತ್ನಿ ಸರ್ವಮಂಗಳಮ್ಮ ಮತ್ತು ಇತರೆ ಕುಟುಂಬಸ್ಥರೊಂದಿಗೆ ಕಾರಿನಲ್ಲಿ ದಾವಣಗೆರೆಯತ್ತ ಹೊರಟರು. ಈ ದುರಂತದ ಸುದ್ದಿ ಹೇಗೋ ಮುಖ್ಯಮಂತ್ರಿ ಕೃಷ್ಣರಿಗೆ ತಿಳಿಯಿತು. ಒಂದು ನಿಮಿಷವೂ ತಡ ಮಾಡದೇ ಪಟೇಲರನ್ನು ಸಂಪರ್ಕಿಸಿದರು ಕೃಷ್ಣ. ಸಂತಾಪ ,  ಸಹಾನುಭೂತಿ ವ್ಯಕ್ತಪಡಿಸಿದ್ದು ಒಂದೇ ಅಲ್ಲ. ಕಾರಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಊರಿನತ್ತ ತೆರಳುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಪಟೇಲರಿಗೆ ತಮ್ಮ ಸರ್ಕಾರಿ ಹೆಲಿಕಾಪ್ಟರ್ ಒದಗಿಸಿಕೊಟ್ಟರು. ಪಟೇಲರು ಅದೇನೇ ಹೇಳಿದರೂ ಕೃಷ್ಣ ಕೇಳಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಕೊನೆಗೆ ಪಟೇಲರು ಮತ್ತು ಅವರ ಹತ್ತಿರದ ಕುಟುಂಬಸ್ಥರು ಕೃಷ್ಣರು ಮಾಡಿಕೊಟ್ಟ ಸರ್ಕಾರಿ ಹೆಲಿಕಾಪ್ಟರಿನಲ್ಲೇ ದಾವಣಗೆರೆಗೆ ಹೋದರು. ಅಷ್ಟರಲ್ಲಿ ಕೃಷ್ಣ ಸ್ಥಳೀಯ ಆಡಳಿತ ವ್ಯವಸ್ಥೆಗೆ ಪಟೇಲರಿಗೆ ಎಲ್ಲ ಸಹಾಯ ಸಹಕಾರ ನೀಡುವಂತೆ ನಿರ್ದೇಶಿಸಿ ಆಗಿತ್ತು.

ಕೃಷ್ಣರು ರಾಜಕೀಯವಾಗಿ ಅಜಾತಶತ್ರುವೊಂದೇ ಆಗಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಪಕ್ಷಾತೀತವಾಗಿ ಸಮಕಾಲೀನರನ್ನು ಪ್ರೀತಿ ವಿಶ್ವಾಸದಿಂದ ಕಾಣುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ಪಟೇಲರಿಗೆ ದೊಡ್ಡ ಆಘಾತ ಉಂಟಾದಾಗ ಅವರು ನಡೆದುಕೊಂಡ ರೀತಿ ಅವರ ಮಾನವೀಯತೆಗೊಂದು ಸಾಕ್ಷಿ.

ನಿಮಗೊಂದು ದೊಡ್ಡ ಸಲಾಂ ಕೃಷ್ಣ. ನಿಮ್ಮ ಆತ್ಮಕ್ಕೆ ಶಾಂತಿ ಸಿಗಲಿ.