On Silence and Ramana

•September 22, 2010 • 1 Comment

Ramana Maharshi (1879-1950) was a saint who was called a ‘mouni’. No it was not a silence that was vowed like the one we get to see  in many spiritual practices (mouna vartha- vowed silence). Ramana would sit in front of his followers when they persuaded him for a presence public without uttering a word for hours together.  Silence and solitude were core to Ramana’s spiritual practice. But the nature of silence Ramana speaks in a bit different from what is popularly understood.  Silence is not negation nor it is withdrawing from the world. In his own words:

Silence is ever-speaking, it is the perennial flow of “language.” It is   interrupted by speaking, for words destroy this mute language. Silence is unceasing eloquence. It is the best language. There is a state when words cease and silence prevails…. There is consciousness along with quietness in the mind; this is exactly the state of mind to be aimed at.

Ramana as a child, was just like any other child, interested in playing and roaming  with no special inclination towards studies or religious practices. But it was his father’s death, mystery of Arunachala hill in his town that profoundly changed him, put him into deep silence. Just before he left home for good, he frequented Meenakshi temple at Madhurai where he stayed in silence, with no possessions or anything of that kind. He would just be. He later in his preachings, which were done very occasionally about his spiritual search and experience, he speaks of  state of insight or enlightenment wherein he became conscious of non-duality, of the identity of self and Self  as one. He always said  ‘Guru is within, find it’.  May be that’s why he prescribes  silence and solitude.

Ramana did speak, whenever  there was a need. For him silence was a path to spiritual practice and not a goal I guess. Ramana spoke of his silence  too!

Bannur Krishnappa: ‘Subhash Palekar has the answer.’

•September 16, 2010 • 9 Comments

‘See all around, most of the agricultural land here is bought over by non farmers for commercial use. Farmers today are quitting agriculture. They do not want to be a farmer’ says 46 year old Bannur Krishnappa, farmer from Bannur, near Mysore.   National Sample Survey Organisation, a government body, in its  survey showed 40% of Indian farmers would quit farming, if they had a choice – an alarming revelation for a country where two-thirds of the billion-plus people live in villages.

We went to meet Bannur Krishnappa at his farm last sunday. Krishnappa practices natural farming  in his eight acres of land. His farm speaks for itself, its the best mirror to what natural farming can achieve. The sugar cane bursting with life on his lush green farm. hundreds of varities of plants simply leaves you astounded. ‘ Green revolution taught us chemical farming, mono cropping, cash crops. The result of this is what we see today in every village. Farmers are dependent for seeds, manure, fertilizers, water – everything for outside sources. Farmers  need huge amounts of fertilizers and manure to grow simple things. They invest more, get less out of it. They end up investing big way into the farms and prices for what they grow is not stable. In other words they are sure to lose.’ 48% of the farmers in the country are indebted, farmers suicides are on alarming raise. ‘ Six years ago I and my father stood in front of the sugar cane crop fully ready for reaping wondering what to do? we farmed using chemical fertilizers and pesticides. The factory was not ready to take our crop and we has no idea what to do. I was at the verge of losing everything. I lost all hopes. It was at this point i attended two day workshop conducted by Subhash Palekar. He spoke about zero budget farming. Natural farming with no chemicals. All we needed for a local breed cow’.

Subhash Palekar a farmer in Amaravathi, Maharashtra espouses natural farming. He talks about doing farming using local variety crops using local variety seeds. Understanding the ways nature work  is core to his approach. He says that nature has all the ways to work to keep the soil alive and control pests. We needs just understand nature and all that needs to be done is to support the natural cycle. Less intrusive, organic methods would only boost the natural cycles which will yield the best results in farming. ‘ I had nothing to lose. I decided to go his way. the result is in front of you’. Truly the results are amazing. Subhash Palekar’s natural methods are less water and labour intensive. Jeevamrutha and beejamrutha ( treating the soil and seeds with dung and urine of local breed cow), mulching and mixed cropping are core methods that Subhash Palekar ‘s natural farming.

Today there is a network of farmers who practice natural farming in Karnataka. They all follow Subhash Palekar’s method. Bannur Krishanappa has not only got his farming fertile but earns enough and more. He is also very active in Karnataka Rajya Raitha sangha.

The passion and the belief that Bannur Krishnappa spoke about natural farming is highly inspiring. ‘Subhash Palekar actually has the answer to the agricultural crisis that all farmers are facing today. But people are so conditioned thinking that without manure and pesticides it is impossible to get good yield inspite of the fact that their experience of loss in the kind of farming they do. They do see my farm and what is possible through natural farming. Change is difficult, but not impossible’.

One has simply see his farm to understand the point he is trying to make.

ಜೀವನ ಪ್ರೀತಿಯ ಅನನ್ಯ ಕಥನ

•September 5, 2010 • Leave a Comment

ರೇವತಿ ಅವರ ‘ದಿ ಟ್ರುಥ್ ಅಬೌಟ್ ಮಿ’ ಹಸಿವು, ಹಿಂಸೆ, ಅವಮಾನ, ಸಾಮಾಜಿಕ ಬಹಿಷ್ಕಾರವನ್ನು ದಿಟ್ಟವಾಗಿ ಎದುರಿಸಿದ ಹಾಗೂ ಎಲ್ಲ ಸಂಕಟಗಳ ನಡುವೆಯೂ ಬದುಕನ್ನು ಪ್ರೀತಿಸಿದ ಅನನ್ಯ ಜೀವದ ಕಥೆಯಾಗಿದೆ.

ಎ. ರೇವತಿ ಅವರ ‘ದಿ ಟ್ರುಥ್ ಅಬೌಟ್ ಮಿ- ಎ ಹಿಜ್ರಾ ಲೈಫ್ ಸ್ಟೋರಿ’ (ನನ್ನ ಕುರಿತಾದ ಸತ್ಯ- ಒಂದು ಹಿಜಡಾ ಜೀವನ ಕಥೆ ) ಅಪರೂಪದ ಜೀವನಚರಿತ್ರೆ. ಒಂದರ್ಥದಲ್ಲಿ ಇದು ಇನ್ನೊಂದು ರೀತಿಯ ಸತ್ಯಾನ್ವೇಷಣೆ. ತಮಿಳುನಾಡಿನ ನಾಮಕ್ಕಲ್‌ನ ಹತ್ತಿರದ ಸಣ್ಣ ಗ್ರಾಮವೊಂದರಲ್ಲಿ ಹುಟ್ತಿದ ದೊರೆಸ್ವಾಮಿ ರೇವತಿಯಾಗುವ- ನಂತರದಲ್ಲಿ ದೆಹಲಿ, ಮುಂಬೈ ಹಾಗೂ ಬೆಂಗಳೂರುಗಳಲ್ಲಿನ ಹಿಜಡಾ ಸಮುದಾಯಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ರೇವತಿಯಾಗಿ ಬದುಕುವ, ಹಿಜಡಾಗಳ ಹಕ್ಕುಗಳಿಗಾಗಿ ಹೋರಾಟವನ್ನು ಸೇರಿಕೊಂಡ ಅನುಭವಗಳನ್ನು ಈ ಪುಸ್ತಕದಲ್ಲಿ ರೇವತಿ ಹೇಳಿಕೊಂಡಿದ್ದಾರೆ.

‘ಹಿಜಡಾಗಳ ಜೀವನ, ಕನಸುಗಳು ಹಾಗೂ ಆಸೆಗಳನ್ನು ಓದುಗರಿಗೆ ಪರಿಚಯಿಸುವುದು ಈ ಪುಸ್ತಕದ ಧ್ಯೇಯ’ ಎನ್ನುತ್ತಾರೆ ರೇವತಿ. ಹಿಜಡಾಗಳ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಬೇರೆಯವರು ಬರೆಯುವುದೇ ಹೆಚ್ಚು. ಆದರೆ, ಹಿಜಡಾ ಬದುಕಿನ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಅವರೇ ಹೇಳಿಕೊಂಡ ಪುಸ್ತಕಗಳು ನಮ್ಮಲ್ಲಿ ತೀರಾ ವಿರಳ. ಅಂಥ ಅಪರೂಪದ ಪುಸ್ತಕ ರೇವತಿಯವರ ಲೈಫ್ ಸ್ಟೋರಿ.

ಚಿಕ್ಕ ವಯಸ್ಸಿನಲ್ಲೇ ಗಂಡಾಗಿ ಹುಟ್ಟಿದ ದೊರೆಸ್ವಾಮಿಗೆ ಹೆಣ್ಣಿನ ಭಾವನೆಗಳು. ಹುಡುಗಿಯರೊಡನೆ ಆಡುವ, ಮನೆಗೆಲಸ ಮಾಡುವ, ರಂಗೋಲಿ ಹಾಕುವ ಆಸೆ. ‘ಗಂಡಿನ ದೇಹದಲ್ಲಿ ಹೆಣ್ಣು ಬಂಧಿತಳಾದಂತೆ ನನಗನಿಸುತ್ತಿತ್ತು. ಯಾರಿಗಾದರೂ ನನ್ನಲ್ಲಿರುವ ಭಾವನೆಗಳು ತಿಳಿದರೇನು ಗತಿ? ಈ ಗೊಂದಲಗಳ ನಡುವೆಯೇ ಹೆಣ್ಣಿನ ಭಾವನೆಗಳು ನನ್ನಲ್ಲಿ ಹಸಿವು, ನಿದ್ರೆಯಷ್ಟೇ ಸಹಜವಾಗಿ ಮೂಡುತ್ತಿದ್ದವು’ ಎಂದು ರೇವತಿ ಹೇಳಿಕೊಳ್ಳುತ್ತಾರೆ. ‘ಹೆಣ್ಣಾಗುವುದು ಅಷ್ಟೊಂದು ಸುಲಭದ ಮಾತಲ್ಲ’ ಎನ್ನುವ ತಮ್ಮ ಗುರುವಿನ ಮಾತನ್ನು ನೆನಪಿನಲ್ಲಿಟ್ಟುಕೊಂಡೇ, ಹೆಣ್ಣಾಗಲು ಹೊರಟವರು ರೇವತಿ. ಈ ನಿಟ್ಟಿನಲ್ಲಿ ತಾವು ಎದುರಿಸಬೇಕಾದ ಕಷ್ಟಗಳು, ದಾಟಬೇಕಾಗಿ ಬಂದ ಮಜಲುಗಳನ್ನು ಅವರು ಪುಸ್ತಕದಲ್ಲಿ ಚಿತ್ರಿಸಿದ್ದಾರೆ.

‘ನನಗಿರುವ ಭಾವನೆಗಳು ಸಹಜವಾದವು. ಅವುಗಳನ್ನು ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ಗುರ್ತಿಸಬೇಕು. ನಾನು ಕೇಳುವದಿಷ್ಟೆ, ನಮ್ಮನ್ನು ಗೌರವಕ್ಕೆ ಯೋಗ್ಯರೆಂದು ಜನ ನೋಡಬೇಕು. ಇಲ್ಲಿಯವರೆಗೂ ನಮ್ಮನ್ನು ಅಸಹಜ ಹಾಗೂ ಕಾನೂನುಬಾಹಿರವಾದ ಸಮುದಾಯವೆಂದೇ ನೋಡಿದ್ದೀರಿ. ಒಂದು ಬೆರಳು ಇನ್ನೊಂದಕ್ಕಿಂತ ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಉದ್ದವಿದ್ದರೆ ಅದನ್ನು ಕತ್ತರಿಸಿ ಬಿಸಾಡುತ್ತೀರೇನು? ಗರ್ಭದಲ್ಲಿರುವುದು ಹೆಣ್ಣು ಮಗುವೆಂದು ತಿಳಿದ ಕೂಡಲೆ ಅದನ್ನು ತೆಗಿಸುತ್ತೀರಿ. ಸಹಜತೆ ಹಾಗೂ ಕಾನೂನು ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಯನ್ನು ಕೆಲವರ ವಿಚಾರಕ್ಕೆ ಮಾತ್ರ ಎತ್ತುತ್ತೀರಿ. ನೋಡಿ, ನಾನು ರೋಗಿಯಲ್ಲ, ನಾನು ನನ್ನನ್ನು ಹೆಣ್ಣೆಂದು ಪರಿಗಣಿಸುತ್ತೇನೆ’- ಹೀಗೆ ಸಾಗುತ್ತದೆ ರೇವತಿಯವರ ವಿಚಾರ.

ಹಿಜಡಾಗಳ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ತಾತ್ಸಾರ, ಅಸಹ್ಯ ಭಾವನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಹೊಂದಿರುವ ಸಮಾಜ ಅವರನ್ನು ಹೀನಾಯವಾಗಿ ನಡೆಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳುತ್ತದೆ. ಕುಟುಂಬ, ಪೋಲೀಸು ಹಾಗೂ ಸುತ್ತಮುತ್ತಲಿನ ಜನರು ಹಿಜಡಾಗಳನ್ನು ನಡೆಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳುವ ರೀತಿ, ಎಸಗುವ ಹಿಂಸೆ ಓದುಗರನ್ನು ಬೆಚ್ಚಿ ಬೀಳಿಸುವಂತಹದು. ‘ನಮ್ಮ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಸಮಾಜ ಕೀಳಾಗಿ ನೋಡುವುದೇ ಅಷ್ಟೆ ಅಲ್ಲ, ಹಿಂಸೆಯನ್ನೂ ಎಸಗುತ್ತದೆ’ ಎಂದು ರೇವತಿ ಹೇಳುತ್ತಾರೆ.

ರೇವತಿ ತಮ್ಮ ಪುಸ್ತಕದಲ್ಲಿ ಹಿಜಡಾ ಬದುಕಿನ, ಹಿಜಡಾ ಸಮುದಾಯದ ಒಂದು ಸಂಕೀರ್ಣ ಚಿತ್ರಣವನ್ನು ನೀಡುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಯಾವುದನ್ನೂ ಸಾರಾಸಗಟಾಗಿ ತಿರಸ್ಕರಿಸದೆ ಹಾಗೆಯೇ ಒಪ್ಪಿಕೊಳ್ಳದೆ, ತನ್ನ ನೋವು ನಲಿವಿನ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಒಂದು ನಿರ್ಲಿಪ್ತತೆಯೊಂದಿಗೆ ಮಾತನಾಡುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಹಿಜಡಾ ಸಮುದಾಯದೊಳಗಿನ ಆಚರಣೆಗಳು, ನಿಯಮಗಳು ಅವರಿಗೆ ವಿಶೇಷ ಅಸ್ಮಿತೆ ನೀಡುವುದನ್ನು ಗುರ್ತಿಸುತ್ತಾರೆ. ತನಗೆ ನೆಲೆ ಕಲ್ಪಿಸಿಕೊಟ್ಟ ಸಮುದಾಯದ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಕೃತಜ್ಞತೆಯ ಜೊತೆಜೊತೆಗೇ, ಆ ಸಮುದಾಯದೊಳಗಿನ ನಿಯಮ, ನಿಯಂತ್ರಣ, ಅದರ ಉಸಿರುಗಟ್ಟಿಸುವ ಪರಿಯನ್ನೂ ಹೇಳುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಹಸಿವು, ಒಂಟಿತನದ ನಡುವೆಯೂ ಜೀವನವನ್ನು ಅದಮ್ಯವಾಗಿ ಪ್ರೀತಿಸುವ ಅವರ ಜೀವನ ಪಯಣದಲ್ಲಿ ಸಿಕ್ಕ ಹಲವಾರು ಹಿಜಡಾಗಳ ಕಥೆಗಳನ್ನೂ ನಮಗೆ ಹೇಳುತ್ತಾರೆ.

ನಾಮಕ್ಕಲ್ಲಿನಿಂದ ಮೊದಲ ಬಾರಿಗೆ ಮನೆಬಿಟ್ಟು ಓಡಿಬಂದು, ರೈಲು ಹತ್ತಿ ದೆಹಲಿ ತಲುಪುವಾಗ ಸಿಗುವ ಹಿಜಡಾ ಸ್ನೇಹಿತರು, ದಿಂಡುಗಲ್‌ನಲ್ಲಿ ಹೆಣ್ಣಾಗಲು ಬಯಸಿ ಆಸ್ಪತ್ರೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ‘ಆಪರೇಷನ್’ ಮಾಡಿಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳುವ ಹಿಜಡಾಗಳಿಗೆ, ಕಪ್ಪು ಚಹಾ ನೀಡಿ ಶುಶ್ರೂಷೆ ಮಾಡಿದ ಮುದುಕಿ, ತಂದೆತಾಯಿಯನ್ನು ನೋಡಬೇಕೆಂದು ಮಿಡಿದಾಗ ರೈಲು ಹತ್ತಿಸಿ, ಬುತ್ತಿ ನೀಡಿದ ಹಿಜಡಾ ಗುರುಗಳು, ಪೊಲೀಸರಿಂದ ಹಿಂಸೆಗೊಳಗಾಗಿ ಬಂದಾಗ ಸ್ನಾನಮಾಡಿಸಿ ಅಕ್ಕರೆ ಅನ್ನ ನೀಡಿದ ಹಮಾಮ್‌ನ ಹಿಜಡಾಗಳು- ಹೀಗೆ ಹಲವಾರು ಘಟನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಹೇಳುವಾಗ ಹಿಜಡಾ ಜಗತ್ತಿನ ಒಳನೋಟಗಳು ಕಾಣಿಸುತ್ತವೆ. ಸಂಬಂಧಗಳ ತಾಕಲಾಟ, ಅವಮಾನ, ಅನಿವಾರ್ಯತೆ, ಹಿಂಸೆ, ಮಾನವೀಯತೆ- ಹೀಗೆ ಹಲವು ಭಾವಗಳನ್ನು ರೇವತಿ ಓದುಗರಿಗೆ ದಾಟಿಸುತ್ತಾರೆ.
ರೇವತಿ ಅವರ ‘ದಿ ಟ್ರುಥ್ ಅಬೌಟ್ ಮಿ’ ಹಸಿವು, ಹಿಂಸೆ, ಅವಮಾನ, ಸಾಮಾಜಿಕ ಬಹಿಷ್ಕಾರವನ್ನು ದಿಟ್ಟವಾಗಿ ಎದುರಿಸಿದ ಹಾಗೂ ಎಲ್ಲ ಸಂಕಟಗಳ ನಡುವೆಯೂ ಬದುಕನ್ನು ಪ್ರೀತಿಸಿದ ಅನನ್ಯ ಜೀವದ ಕಥೆಯಾಗಿದೆ.

memory of a book

•August 29, 2010 • 2 Comments

Memory of a book is not always just about its story and characters. Memory of a book also is about a place where you  sat and read the book,  smell of the books, a particular side of the page where the poem appeared… I read Vaidehi’s soughandhiya swgathagalu after Latha got married and went away. I sat in the room in between cleaning the room, re arranging the clothes in the cupboard which was too large for my clothes alone. And Jayanth kaikini ‘amrutha balli kashaya’ on an evening, when it began getting dark outside. A summer evening sinking into darkness and i read the book with such fervour. Deepoostava’s walkman, diamond circus nalli dampiya herige, …Sumithreya kalale, abhang haadugalu…every thing with the fading evening sitting on the floor on my room. I almost got a fever by the end of reading it. The intensity got me, i felt possessed. So did Mogalli’s bugari.

Or reading d h lawrence’s sons and lovers on the steps on nmkrv college quadrangle. No matter what the critical analysis of the book by the lecturer in the class, it was stone steps cold under me, the insistent ashadaa breeze that i associated with the characters. The sonnets of Shakespeare and Edmund Spencer in our text book ‘winged word’. I remember these poems by the sides of the pages where it was printed and the sentences i underlined by pencil.

Things live within us with strange associations of smell, touch, places and people. The specificity  defines the experience , that’s  how i guess it gets relived in the body?!

a note on ‘ordinary’ people

•August 18, 2010 • 1 Comment

Scene one

I and uvaraj finish eating pani puri near our house at Somanna’s gaadi. Somanna has been selling the most wonderful chats for the past 25 years in the same place.  During the conversation with him Uvaraj asks him ‘ how is son Somanna? i donot see him these days?’ Somanna had a 17 year old son. Somanna ‘He died recently. He was run over by a tractor in our village. The tractor owners offered me  Rs75,000 compensation. I refused. What will i do with money when i lost my grown up son?’

Scene two

I am having my usual random talk with my Gym master at the gym about money, life, job, Bangalore, floods in orissa etc..  He tells me that he does not really get a great salary in this place. And that he was offered a job in Lucknow to work in a spa, with a good salary and many other facilities. ‘I thought about it. They said we can even take care of your child’s education. But i thought of my mother, i can not live away from her. I also like this city so much.  What is the point? i felt. I decided against it.’

Scene three

My friend narrated  ‘ this doctor is one of the best cancer specialist in Chennai. He worked for the cancer institute for many years. He could have his own practice, opened his own private hospital made unthinkable amounts of money’. She said ‘he now work in a govt hospital in some corner of Assam. He treats the poorest of the poor, tribal and Bangladeshis who cross the border with swollen necks and ruptured tongues looking for a doctor and medicines they may not be able to afford. He works in a govt hospital that has no proper beds, OTs or nurses’.

One may feel nothing revolutionary after all about these three people. I hear a lot that times have changed, people are behind money, every body is in the rat race, its inevitable we have to be in the rat race, money so central today that people have no time for anything else and so on and so forth.

What about these people i have mentioned here? These people make me think about the general claims that people make.

There are many things people look for and live for other than money.  There is lot of profundity i see in the ‘ordinary’ people that many a times the ‘alternative’ crowd fail to arrive at.  Its the ordinary people of Mumbai who responded with such spontaneity offering food and water to the stranded on the streets during heavy rains. Its the ‘ordinary’ who show dignity, love and courage in their ‘ordinary’ lives.  There is a wisdom and integrity many a times we fail to hear in our  many of theoretical and political analysis of  society.

mv favourite poem from one of my favourite poet..

•August 17, 2010 • 2 Comments

Between What I See and What I Say… (1976) for Roman Jakobson


Between what I see and what I say,
Between what I say and what I keep silent,
Between what I keep silent and what I dream,
Between what I dream and what I forget:
It slips
between yes and no,
what I keep silent,
keeps silent
what I say,
what I forget.
It is not speech:
it is an act.
It is an act
of speech.
speaks and listens:
it is real.
And as soon as I say
it is real,
it vanishes.
Is it then more real?


Tangible idea,
comes and goes
between what is
and what is not.
It weaves
and unweaves reflections.
scatters eyes on a page,
scatters words on our eyes.
Eyes speak,
words look,
looks think.
To hear
what we say,
the body of an idea.
Eyes close,
the words open.

— Octavio Paz (1914-1998),
“Between What I See and What I Say…”
A Tree Within


•August 11, 2010 • 3 Comments

ಶ್ರಾವಣದ ಮದ್ಯಹ್ನದ

ಬಿಸಿಗೆ ಬಸವಿಳಿದು

ತಂಪನೆ ಕಲ್ಲು ತುಳಿದು

ಬಂದಾಗ ಇಲ್ಲಿ

ಮಲ್ಲಿಗೆ ಜಾಜಿ ಕೆಂಪು

ದಾಸವಾಳ ಗಂಧದ ಕಡ್ಡಿಯ

ಕಂಪಲ್ಲಿ ನಿಂತು

ನೋಡಿದರೆ  ಅಲ್ಲೇ

ನಿಂತಿದ್ದಾಳೆ ಜ್ವಾಲಾಮಖಿ.

ಕಾರ್ಯಕಾರಿಣಿ ಇವಳಂತೆ,

ಬಾಯಲ್ಲಿ ಬೆಂಕಿಯಂತೆ

ತಂಪನೆಯ ಮಡಿಲಂತೆ!

ಸಾವಿರಾರು ವಸಂತಗಳಿಗೆ ಎದೆಯೊಡ್ಡಿ

ನಿಂತ ಮರದ ಹಾಗೆ, ಸಿಳ್ಳೆ ಪಿಳ್ಳೆ

ಹುಡುಗರು, ಹಕ್ಕಿ, ಹುಳುಗಳಿಗೆ ಮನೆಯಾದವಳು.

ಆದಿ ಮೌನದಲಿ ನಿಂತ ಇವಳಿಗೇಕೆ

ಬಾಯಲ್ಲಿ ಬೆಂಕಿ?

ಒಳ ಗುಡಿಯ ತಂಪಲ್ಲಿ

ನಾಲಿಗೆ ಜಾಚಿ

ಎಲ್ಲ ನುಂಗುವ

ಬಸ್ಮಮಾಡುವ ನಿನ್ನ ಮಡಿಲಿಗೆ

ಶರಣು  ಶರಣು.

ನಿಂತ ಕಾಲು

ಬುಜ ತೊಡೆಗಳೆಲ್ಲ


ತುಂತರು ಮಳೆಯಲ್ಲಿ

ಬೆವತು, ಬೆಚ್ಚಿ ಬಂದ್ದಿದ್ದೇನೆ


ನಿನ್ನ ತಂಪು, ನಿನ್ನ ಜ್ವಾಲೆಯ ಗುಂಗಿನಲ್ಲಿ.