ನಮ್ಮ ಮನೆ

ನಮ್ಮ ಮನೆಯ ಮುಂದೆ ಒಂದು ಗಿಡವು ಬೆಳೆಯಿತು
ಗಿಡವು ಬೆಳೆದು ಮರವಾಗಿ ಹೂವು ಬಿಟ್ಟಿತು
ಹೂವು ಎಲ್ಲ ಹಣ್ಣು ಆಗಿ ಕೆಳಗೆ ಬಿದ್ದಿತು
ಕೆಳಗೆ ಬಿದ್ದ ಹಣ್ಣು ತಿಂದು ಹೊಟ್ಟೆ ಕೆಟ್ಟಿತು

ಹೊಟ್ಟೆ ಕೆಟ್ಟ ಕಾರಣಕ್ಕೆ ಮರವ ಕಡಿದರು
ಮರವ ಕಡಿದಮೇಲೆ ಅದರ ಸೌದೆ ಸುಟ್ತರು
ಸೌದೆ ಸುಟ್ಟ ಹೊಗೆಗೆ ಎಲ್ಲ ಕಣ್ಣು ಉರಿಯಿತು
ಕೆಮ್ಮು ಬಂದು ಆಸುಪತ್ರೆ ಪಾಲು ಆದೆವು

ಲೋಕವೆಲ್ಲ ಬೆಚ್ಚಗಾದ ಸುದ್ದಿ ಕೇಳಿತು
ನೀರು ಮಟ್ಟ ಸಗರದಲ್ಲಿ ಹೆಚ್ಚು ಆಗಿತ್ತು
ಇದನು ಕೇಳಿ ಮನೆಯಲೆಲ್ಲ ಎಚ್ಚರಾದರು
ಮನೆಯ ಮುಂದೆ ಚಿಕ್ಕದೊಂದು ಗಿಡವ ನೆಟ್ಟರು

ಗಿಡವು ಬೆಳೆದು ಮರವಾಗಿ ಹೂವು ಬಿಟ್ಟಿದೆ
ಘಮ್ಮನೆಂದು ವಾಸನೆಯನು ಹರಡಿಸುತ್ತಿದೆ
ಹಕ್ಕಿಗಳಿಗೆ ಮನೆಯು ಹೌದು ನಮ್ಮ ಈ ಮರ
ನಮ್ಮ ಉಸಿರು ಕೂಡ ಹೌದು ನಮ್ಮ ಈ ಮರ

ದಿನವು ಎದ್ದು ನೀರು ಹಾಕಿ ಇನ್ನೂ ಬೆಳೆಸುವ
ಗಿಡಮರಗಳ ಸಾಲು ಬೆಳೆಸಿ ನಾಡು ಉಳಿಸುವ
ನಾಡು ಸರಿಯೆ, ದೇಶ ಸರಿಯೆ, ಭೂಮಿ ಉಳಿಸುವ
ಪರಿಸರವನು ಚೆನ್ನ ಮಾಡಿ ನಾಳೆ ಉಳಿಸುವ

- Gaggy

ನಮ್ಮ ಬದುಕು

ಓಡಾಡ್ಲಿಕ್ಕೆ ಬೇಕು ಬೈಕು
ಮಾತಾಡ್ಲಿಕ್ಕೆ ಬೇಕು ಮೈಕು
ಸ್ಯಾಲರೀಲಿ ಬೇಕು ಹೈಕು
ಫ಼ೇಸ್ ಬುಕ್ಕಲ್ಲಿ ಬೇಕು ಲೈಕು

ಪಕ್ಕದಲ್ಲಿರೋನಿಗೆ ಲುಕ್ಕು
ಜಾಸ್ತಿ ಮಾತಾಡಿದ್ರೆ ಕಿಕ್ಕು
ಹೋಸ್ಪಿಟಲ್ ಬಿಲ್ ನೋಡಿದ್ರೆ ಶಾಕು
ನ್ಯೂಸ್ ಬದ್ಲು ಬರೀ ಟಾಕು

ರೋಡಲ್ಲಿ ಓವರ್‌ ಟೇಕು
ಮಾಡೋದ್ ಟೂ ಮೆನಿ ಮಿಸ್ಟೇಕು
ಎಲ್ಲರ್ಗೂ ಕೊಡೋ ಸ್ಮೈಲ್ ಫ಼ೇಕು
ನಡೆಸ್ತಿರೋ ಲೈಫ಼ೇ ಜೋಕು

- ಗ್ಯಾಗಿ

We

I was born her brother
I became her father
I am now her mother and her son
Life is cruel on soft souls
But we endure, we survive, we strive to live for the ones who don't.

Loved TBoGT

Just completed The Ballad of Gay Tony, man.. Don't know how I missed this for so long! Amazing end to an amazing game...  Didn't like Lost and the Damned much, what with the overly yellowish days and boring kill always missions; TBoGT was more like it.. Gave as much satisfaction as the main game I played years ago.

Yousuf: "F*ck the people! Whip out your d*ck and piss on all of them!"

I used to hate this idiot till the final mission :)

What is it?

I seek life, yet at every moment of my existence, consciously or unconsciously, I seek death. At this instant, if there was a huge deluge and I were drowned,  I would probably be the person putting up the least resistance to the dark unseen chains below. If at this instant there exploded a fire to incinerate me, my soul would feel the happiest it has been in quite a long time, and would expect the coming with all the anticipation in the world.

I understand and fully comprehend that at the age of 28, some might consider, and not falsely, that I have not suffered as most of the poor, helpless, homeless, hungry, sick in the world have. Yes, I do agree to that. They also might opine that there are so many things left yet to be experienced, to be seen, heard, felt. They might be right there too.
But what is this affinity to sadness, the attraction towards misery, the idea of austerity being noble? Why am I built in such a way that even the brightest and happiest of conversations might turn into a serious reflection of self and judgement of others for me? Why am I not equally interested in happier parts of life? Is it because the dreadful expectation of the silent repose right after? Or do I simply go into the expected before even thoroughly enjoying what is in the present?

Cockroaches

They come from seemingly nowhere,  they live and grow in small cracks and crevasses in the wall, in dark corners of old buildings, in unused wardrobes and desks, in dirty roads and gutters; they survive people's stamping shoes, bug sprays, pesticides, poisons and thousands of other contraptions created specifically to oust these pests out of existence; they eat whatever Providence throws in their way, eating and digesting anything and everything, they eat other insects and get eaten by other insects; they fed on their own dead, they spread enormously once they are introduced to any environment without caring about resources or requirements; they are born, they live, they die.

A quote from "The Scarlet Letter"

... In view of my previous weariness of office, and vague thoughts of resignation, my fortune somewhat resembled that of a person who should entertain an idea of committing suicide, and although beyond his hopes, meet with the good hap to be murdered...