ತಪ್ಪು ಯಾರದ್ದು ??

ಇದು ಸ್ವಾತಿಯ ಮದುವೆಯ ಕಥೆ. ಮೂವತ್ತರ ಹರೆಯದ ಸ್ವಾತಿಗೆ ಈಗಷ್ಟೇ ಮದುವೆ ನಿಶ್ಚಯವಾಗಿತ್ತು. ಸ್ವಾತಿ ಬೆಂಗಳೂರಲ್ಲಿ ಒಳ್ಳೆ ಉದ್ಯೋಗದಲ್ಲಿದ್ದಳು. ಅವಳ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಊರಲ್ಲಿ ಕೆಲವು ಕಥೆಗಳಿದ್ದವು. ಮೂವತ್ತೈತು ಇನ್ನೂ ಮದುವೆ ಆಗಿಲ್ಲ ಇವಳಿಗೆ ಹುಡಗನ ಗೆಳೆತನ ಇರಬಹುದು. ಅದು ಇದು ಮತ್ತೊಂದು. ಆದರೆ ಸ್ವಾತಿಯ ಬದುಕಲ್ಲಿ ಒಬ್ಬ ಹುಡುಗ ಇದ್ದ. ಅವರದ್ದು ಆದರ್ಶ ಪ್ರೇಮಕಥೆ. ಅವರಿಬ್ಬರೂ ಒಂದೇ ಪ್ರಾಯದವರು. ಓದುವಾಗ ಇಬ್ಬರ ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲೂ ಕಷ್ಟವಿತ್ತು. ಒಬ್ಬರನೊಬ್ಬರು ಚೆನ್ನಾಗಿ ಅರಿತವರು. ಅವಳಿಗೆ ಹಲವು ಸಂಬಂಧಗಳು ಬಂದರೂ ಆಕೆ ಆತನನ್ನೇ ಮದುವೆಯಾಗೂದಾಗಿ ತೀರ್ಮಾನಿಸಿದ್ದಳು. ಅಂತೂ ಇಂತೂ ಮೂವತ್ತರ ಹರೆಯದಲ್ಲಿ ಅವರ ಕನಸು ಅಸ್ತಿತ್ವಕ್ಕೆ ಬರಲ್ಲಿತ್ತು. ಆದರೆ ಕಥೆ ಬೇರೆಯೇ ರೂಪ ತಾಳಿತು. ಸ್ವಾತಿಯ ಬಗೆಗಿನ ಕಥೆಗಳು ಇನ್ನೂ ಹೆಚ್ಚಾದವು. ದುರಂತದ ಹಂತಕ್ಕೆ ತಲುಪಿದವು. ಮದುವೆಯ ಒಂದು ವಾರದ ಮುಂಚೆ ಸ್ವಾತಿಯ ಹುಡುಗ ಬೈಕ್ ಅಪಘಾತದಲ್ಲಿ ಕೊನೆಯುಸಿರೆಳೆದ.

ಸ್ವಾತಿಯ ಹಲವು ವರ್ಷದ ಮದುವೆಯ ಕನಸು ಮುಗಿದು ಹೋಗಿತ್ತು. ‘ಸದ್ಯ ಮದುವೆ ಆಗಲಿಲ್ಲವಲ್ಲ ನಿಮ್ಮ ಮಗಳ ಬದುಕು ಗಟ್ಟಿ ಇದೆ’ ಅಂತ ಇನ್ನೂ ಮದುವೆ ಆಗದೆ ತಿರುಗುತ್ತಲ್ಲ ಎಂದವರೇ ಅಂದರು. ಸ್ವಾತಿ ಬಹಳ ಬಾರಿ ತನ್ನ ಹುಡಗನಿಗೆ ನಿಧಾನವಾಗಿ ಬೈಕ್ ಚಾಲಹಿಸುವ ಸೂಚನೆ ನೀಡಿದ್ದಳು. ಆತ ಅನುಸರಿಸದ ಒಂದೇ ಮಾತೆಂದರೆ ಅದು. ಬದುಕಿಗೆ ಮುಳುವಾಗಿತು. ಆತನ ಕೊನೆ ಬಾರಿ ನೋಡಲು ಧೈರ್ಯ ಮಾಡಿ ಹೊರತು ನಿಂತವಳಿಗೆ 'ನೀನು ಹೋಗಬೇಡ, ನಿನ್ನನ್ನು ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಅಳುವುದು ನೋಡಿದರೆ ಇನ್ನೂ ಯಾರು ಮದುವೆ ಆಗುತ್ತಾರೆ' ಎಂದು ಅವಳ ಅಮ್ಮ ವಾದಿಸಿದರು. ಆದರೆ ಅವಳ ಪ್ರೀತಿ ಅಲ್ಲಿಗೆ ಅವಳನ್ನು ನಿಲಿಸಲಿಲ್ಲ. 'ನೀನೇ ಕಾರಣ ನನ್ನ ಮಗನ ಸಾವಿಗೆ, ಬರಬೇಡ ಹತ್ತಿರ ನಡೆಯಿಲ್ಲಿಂದ, ಹೋಗು' ಎಂಬ ಹುಡಗನ ತಾಯಿಯ ಮಾತು ಸ್ವಾತಿಯ ಧೈರ್ಯವನೆಲ್ಲ ಮುಳುಗಿಸಿತು.

ಈ ಸಾವಿಗೆ ಯಾರು ಕಾರಣ. ಸ್ವಾತಿಯ ಮದುವೆ ಇನ್ನೂ ನೆರವೆರರಿಲ್ಲ ಯಾರು ಕಾರಣ. ಆಕೆ ಕೊನೆಯ ಬಾರಿಯ ಇಷ್ಟು ಪ್ರೀತಿಸಿದವನ್ನು ನೋಡಡಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಮೂವತ್ತು ವರ್ಷ ಕಾದ ಸ್ವಾತಿಯ ತಪ್ಪೇ? ವೇಗವಾಗಿ ಬೈಕ್ ಚಾಲಹಿಸಿದ ಹುಡಗನ ತಪ್ಪೇ? ಇಷ್ಟು ವರ್ಷಗಳ ಕಾಲ ಮದುವೆಯ ಅನುಭವವಿದ್ದ ಹಿರಿಯರು ಮದುವೆ ಎಂಬುದು ಒಂದು ದಿನ ಒಂದು ಶಾಸ್ತ್ರ ಎಂದುಕೊಂಡದ್ದು ತಪ್ಪೇ?

ಇದು ಪ್ರಿಯಾ ಹಾಗೂ ಅರ್ಜುನ್ ಗ್ರಹಾಪ್ರವೇಶದ ಕಥೆ. ಅವರ ಮದುವೆ ಎರಡು ವರ್ಷದ ಮುಂಚೆ ನಡೆದಿತ್ತು. ಒಂದೇ ವರ್ಷದಲ್ಲಿ ಅವಳಿ ಮಕ್ಕಳಿಗೆ ಜನ್ಮ ನೀಡಿದ್ದಳು ಪ್ರಿಯಾ. ಈ ಮಧ್ಯೆ ಅವಳು ಕೆಲಸ ಬಿಟ್ಟಳು. ಹೊಸ ಮನೆಯ ಯೋಜನೆ ಹಾಕಿಕೊಂಡರು ಇಬ್ಬರು. ಎಲ್ಲ ಅಂದುಕೊಂಡಂತೆ ನಡೆಯಿತು. ಇನ್ನೂ ಹೊಸ ಮನೆ ಗ್ಗ್ರಹಾಪ್ರವೇಶದ ಎಲ್ಲ ಸಜ್ಜಾಗಿಸಿ ಮನೆಗೆ ತೆರಳಿದ ಜೋರು ಗುಡುಗು ಮಳೆ. ಸಾಕು ಸಾಕದಾಗ ಒಮ್ಮೆ ಸ್ನಾನ ಮಾಡಿ ಬರುತ್ತೇನೆಂದು ಹೋದ ಅರ್ಜುನ್ ಸ್ನಾನದ ಕೊನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಗುಡುಗು ಹೊಡೆದು ಸಾವನ್ನಪ್ಪಿದ.

ಐಯ್ಯೋ!! ನೀನು ಈ ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಇರಬೇಡ ಇಲ್ಲಿ ವಾಸ್ತು ಸರಿಯಿಲ್ಲ ಅದಕ್ಕೇ ಈಗೈತು ಎಂದು ಕೆಲವರ ವಾದ. ಇನ್ನೂ ಕೆಲವರು ನಿನ್ನ ಹೊಸ ಮನೆ ಸರಿಯಿಲ್ಲ ಅಲ್ಲಿಗೆ ಹೋಗಬೇಡ ಅಂದರು. ಇನ್ನೂ ಕೆಲವರು ನಿನಗೆ ಬುದ್ಧಿ ಇಲ್ಲವಾ ಗುಡುಗು ಮಿಂಚಿಗೆ ಸ್ನಾನ ಮಾಡಲು ಹೋಗಬೇಡಿ ಎಂದು ಹೇಳಬಾರದಿತ್ತ ಅಂದರು.

ಗಂಡನನ್ನು ಕಳೆದು, ಕೆಲಸವನ್ನು ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಇಬ್ಬರು ಮಕ್ಕಳ ತಾಯಿ ಯಾರಾ ಮಾತು ಕೇಳಬೇಕು.

ಯಾವ ಮನೆಯ ತಪ್ಪು?  ಗುಡುಗಿನ ತಪ್ಪೇ? ವಿವೇಚನೆ ಇಲ್ಲದೆ ಗುಡುಗು ಸಿಡಿಲಿನ ಸಮಯದಲ್ಲಿ ಸ್ನಾನಕ್ಕೆ ಹೋದ ತಪ್ಪೇ? ಆಯಾಸದ ತಪ್ಪೇ?

ಒಂದು ದತ್ತಾಂಶ ಗಣಿಗಾರಿಕೆ (ಡಾಟಾ ಮೈನಿಂಗ್)  ಸೆಮಿನಾರ್ ಕಥೆ. ವಿದ್ಯಾರ್ಥಿ ಒಬ್ಬಳು ಒಂದು ಒಳ್ಳೆ ವಿಷಯ ಪ್ರಸ್ತುತ ಪಡಿಸುತ್ತಿದ್ದಳು.  ಅಪರಾಧಗಳ ಮಾದರಿಯನ್ನು ದತ್ತಾಂಶಗಳ ಮೂಲಕ ಕಂಡುಹಿಡಿವ ಬಗ್ಗೆ. ಅದರ ಪ್ರಕಾರ 70ಶೇಕಡಾಕ್ಕೂ ಮೀರಿ ಅಪರಾಧಿಗಳು ಬಡತನ ರೇಖೆಗೆ ಸೇರಿದವರು ಅಂದಳು. ಅಷ್ಟೇ ಅಲ್ಲಿ ದೊಡ್ಡ ಚರ್ಚೆಯೇ ಪ್ರಾರಂಭವಾಯಿತು. ನಾವು ಕಂಪ್ಯೂಟರ್ ವಿಜ್ಞಾನ ಮತ್ತು ಎಂಜಿನಿಯರಿಂಗ್ ವಿಭಾಗದವ್ರೆಲ್ಲ ಒಳ್ಳೆ ಕಾನೂನು ಜನರಂತೆ ಚರ್ಚಿಸಿದೆವು. ಈ ಪ್ರಪಂಚದಲ್ಲಿ ಬಡವನೊಬ್ಬ 500 ರೂಪಾಯಿ ಕದ್ದರೂ ಅದು ಅಪರಾಧ ಎಂದು ದಾಖಲಾಗುತ್ತದೆ ಅದೇ ನಾವು ಹೇಳಲು ಬರೆಯಲು ಊಹಿಸಲೂ ಆಸಾಧ್ಯವಾದ ರೂಪಾಯಿ ಹಗರಣಗಳು ಮೂಲೆ ಸೇರುತ್ತವೆ. ಬಡವ ಮಾಡುವ ಕೊಲೆ ಸುಲಿಗೆ ಅಪರಾಧಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ದೊಡ್ಡವರ ಯೋಜನೆ ಇರುತ್ತದೆ ಆದರೆ ದಾಖಲಗುದಿಲ್ಲ.

ಹಾಗಾದ್ರೆ ದತ್ತಾಂಶಗಳು ದಾಖಲೆಗಳು ತಪ್ಪೇ? ಅಥವಾ ಅವುಗಳು ಅಸಂಪೂರ್ಣವೇ? ಬಡವ ಮಾಡಿದರೆ ಮಾತ್ರ ತಪ್ಪೇ?

ಇದೆಲ್ಲದರ ಮಧ್ಯೆ ನಮ್ಮ ಪದವಿ ಪೂರ್ವ ಕನ್ನಡ ಶಿಕ್ಷಕರು ಕೆಲವು ಬಾರಿ ಹೇಳಿದ ಕಥೆಯೊಂದು ನೆನಪಾಗುತ್ತಿದೆ. ಅವರು ಹೇಳಿದ ಒಂದೇ ಅರ್ಥದ ಕೆಲವೇ ಕಥೆಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಇದು ಒಂದು. [ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ತಿರುಚುತ್ತೇನೆ ಇಲ್ಲವೆಂದರೆ ಧರ್ಮನಿಂದನೆಯ ತಪ್ಪು ನನ್ನ ಮೇಲೆ ಖಂಡಿತ]

ಅರಸನೊಬ್ಬನ  ಮಹಾಯಾಗದ ಕಥೆ. ಎಡೆಬಿಡದೆ ಶತ್ರುಗಳ ದಾಳಿಯಿಂದ ಬೆಸೆತ್ತ ರಾಜ, ಪೂಜಾರಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಒಂದು ಉಪಾಯ ಕೇಳುತ್ತಾನೆ. ಪೂಜಾರಿ ಒಂದು  ಮಹಾಯಾಗಾವಾಗಬೇಕು ಅನ್ನುತ್ತಾನೆ. ಅದು ಅಂತಿಂಥ ಯಾಗವಲ್ಲ ಕೋಟಿ ಹಣದ ಯಾಗ. ಪೂಜಾರಿ  ಆ ಯಾಗಕ್ಕೋಸ್ಕರ ತನ್ನ ಎಲ್ಲ ಬೇಡಿಕೆಯ ಜೊತೆಗೆ ಇಡೀ ಕುಟುಂಬದ ಬೇಡಿಕೆಯನ್ನೂನೀಡುತ್ತಾನೆ. ಅದರ ಜೊತೆಗೆ ರಾಜ್ಯದ ಎಲ್ಲ ಜನರು ಒಂದು ವಾರದ ಕಾಲ ಮಾಂಸಾಹಾರ ಸೇವಿಸಬಾರದು, ಮದ್ಯ ಸೇವಿಸಬಾರದು ಎನ್ನುತ್ತಾನೆ. ರಾಜ ತನ್ನ ಆಜ್ಞೆ ಹೊರಡಿಸುತ್ತಾನೆ.

ಆದರೆ ಒಂದು ದಿನ ರಾಜಕುಮಾರನೆ ಮಾಂಸಾಹಾರ ಸೇವಿಸಿದ ಬಗ್ಗೆ  ರಾಜನಿಗೆ ಸುದ್ದಿ ಸಿಗುತ್ತದೆ. ಮೊದಲೇ ಶತ್ರುಗಳ ದಾಳಿಗೆ ಕುಂದಿದ್ದ ರಾಜನಿಗೆ ಈಗ ಮಗನೆ ಪೂಜಾರಿ ಮಾತು ಮೀರಿದ ಭಯ. ಪೂಜಾರಿಯನ್ನು ಕರೆದು ಇದಕ್ಕೇನಾದರೂ ಉಪಾಯವಿದೆಯೇ ಎಂದಾಗ ಪೂಜಾರಿ 'ಹೌದು ಸ್ವಾಮೀ, ರಾಜನ ಮಗ ಕುಡಿದರೆ ಅದು ದೊಡ್ಡ ತಪ್ಪು, ಇದು ನಡೆದೂ ಯಾಗವಾಗಬೇಕೆಂದರೆ ರಾಜನು ಪೂಜಾರಿಗೆ ಮತ್ತು ಕುಟುಂಬಕ್ಕೆ ಜೀವನ ಪರ್ಯಂತ ಬೇಕಾಗುವ ಎಲ್ಲ ಆಹಾರ, ಖರ್ಚು ವೆಚ್ಚ ನೀಡಬೇಕು. ಆಗ ದೇವರು ರಾಜಕುಮಾರನ ತಪ್ಪು ಕ್ಷಮಿಸುತ್ತಾನೆ' ಅಂದನು.

ರಾಜ ಒಪ್ಪಿ ಪೂಜಾರಿಗೆ ಕಳುಹಿಸಲು, ರಾಜ್ಯದ ಮಂತ್ರಿ ಭಯದಿಂದ ಧಾವಿಸುತ್ತಾನೆ. 'ಐಯ್ಯೋ ರಾಜನೇ ನಿನ್ನೆ ನಿಮ್ಮ ಮಗನ ಜೊತೆ ನನ್ನ ಮಗನು ಇದ್ದ' ಎಂದಾಗ ರಾಜನ ಭಯ ಇನ್ನೂ ಜಾಸ್ತಿ ಆಯ್ತು. ಇನ್ನೊಮ್ಮೆ ಪೂಜಾರಿಯನ್ನು ಕರೆಸಿ ಪರಿಹಾರ ಕೇಳುವಾಗ ಪೂಜಾರಿ 'ಸ್ವಾಮೀ, ರಾಜನ ಹಾಗೂ ಮಂತ್ರಿಯ  ಮಗ ಇಬ್ಬರೂ ಸೇರಿ ಕುಡಿದರೆ ಅದು ಇನ್ನೂ ದೊಡ್ಡ ತಪ್ಪು, ನೀವು ಇಬ್ಬರೂ ದೇವರಿಗೆ ಪರಿಹಾರವೆಂದು ಪೂಜಾರಿಗೆ 20 ಲಕ್ಷ ನೀಡಬೇಕು' ಎಂದು  ಇನ್ನೂ ಜಾಸ್ತಿ ಬೇಡಿಕೆ ಇಡುತ್ತಾನೆ.

ಸಾಯಂಕಾಲ ಮಂತ್ರಿಯ ಮಗ ನಮ್ಮ ಜೊತೆಗೆ ಪೂಜಾರಿ ಮಗನು ಇದ್ದ ಎಂದಾಗ ಮಂತ್ರಿ ಇನ್ನೂ ಭಯಂದಿಂದ ರಾಜನಿಗೆ ಸುದ್ದಿ ತಿಳಿಸುತ್ತಾನೆ. ಇನ್ನೇನು ಈ ಯಾಗ ಸಾಧ್ಯವೇ ಇಲ್ಲ, ನಮ್ಮ ಮಕ್ಕಳು ಪೂಜಾರಿ ಮಗನಿಗೂ ಮಾಂಸಾಹಾರ ಮದ್ಯ ನೀಡಿದ್ದಾರೆಂದು ರಾಜ ಕುಂದಿ ಹೋಗುತ್ತಾನೆ.

ಪುನಃ ಪೂಜಾರಿಯನ್ನು ಕರೆದು 'ಕ್ಷಮಿಸಿ, ನಮ್ಮ ಮಕ್ಕಳು ನಿಮ್ಮ ಮಗನಿಗೂ ಮಾಂಸಾಹಾರ ಮದ್ಯ ನೀಡಿದ್ದಾರೆ, ನಾವು ಮುವ್ವಾರು ಸೇರಿ ಏನಾದರೂ ಪರಿಹಾರ ನೀಡಬಹುದೆ' ಎಂದ ರಾಜನ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಪೂಜಾರಿಯು 'ಸ್ವಾಮೀ, ರಾಜನ, ಮಂತ್ರಿಯ ಹಾಗೂ ಪೂಜಾರಿಯ ಮಗ ಒಟ್ಟಿಗೆ ಕುಡಿದರೆ ಅದು ಪಾಪವೇ ಅಲ್ಲ' ಅನ್ನಬೇಕೆ!!?

ಈ ಪ್ರಪಂಚದಲ್ಲಿ ತಪ್ಪು ಹುಡಿಕಿದಲ್ಲೆಲ್ಲ ಸಿಗುತ್ತದೆ. ಅದನ್ನು ಯಾವ ದ್ರಷ್ಟಿಕೋನದಲ್ಲಿ ನೋಡುತ್ತೇವೂ?

ಹೇಳಿ ಕಷ್ಟಗಳು ಹಾಗುರ ಮಾಡುವ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನಗಳೇ ತಪ್ಪೆಂದು ಅನಿಸೂದಿಲ್ಲವೇ?ತಪ್ಪೇ ಮಾಡದ ಸ್ವಾತಿಗೆ ಕಥೆಗಳ ಶಿಕ್ಷೆ, ಪ್ರಿಯಳಿಗೆ ಮಾತಿನ ಶಿಕ್ಷೆ?

ಕೇಳಿ ಕೇಳಿ ಕೋಟಿ ಕೋಟಿ ಹಗರಣಗಳು ಚಿಲ್ಲರೆ ಅನಿಸುವುದಿಲ್ಲವೆ ನಿಮಗೀಗ???  ಅವರೆಲ್ಲ ಹಾಯಾಗಿಲ್ಲವೇ??

 Anvitha

Why would an IT employee spoil her Saturday sleep? Why do these Companies make weekends as targets? Though my backache and six days stressful work never supported to get up, I had to. There was a charity art exhibition held at municipal hall and we people were supposed to be there since our company was a co-sponsor.

          “For Anvitha” an exhibition for the welfare of kids. Walking through the room I saw a number of out of box imaginations. One portraits Jesus, the good Shepherd holding a girl’s hand and guiding her than a lamb in his hands, other one has a girl lighting up a candle, and the candle eventually lights up many of them. And finally the one I liked the most, also made me buy, a mentally challenged girl looking out from a bus window, and watches a group of teen college girls well dressed, stylish and all set to rock. This picture I couldn’t leave it back there for a reason. What might be that girl’s thinking when she looks at normal teen girls of her age. It limited my thinking. I couldn’t come to conclusion. Nowhere was an introduction about the artist. Students of St. Ann’s school, some blind, some dumb, some handicapped, some mentally challenged and some normal students wearing a “For Anvitha” tee explained us all our doubts and guided us. I asked the small around me 'may I please know who Anvitha is ?'. She would meet you soon was the only reply I received. 

          As we finished filling those masterpieces into our eyes, buying some of them, we were asked gather for the formal function. A room full of techie people and their tech gossips. While the team holding the responsibility of the event talking about it, other part of us were sitting busy with our smart phones. I turned the neck around and I see people updating their status on fb about their visit to charity function. ‘Why not I have one?’ I pulled out my phone, clicked a photo of the picture I just bought. When I was about to upload the function started with a ‘very warm good evening’.

          With few people on dais the MC introduced the main artist of the day. “Anvitha a student of class 10 at St. Ann’s School”, with no time I turned up the picture and saw the signature art by Anvitha. A girl got up and moved towards the microphone.

          A girl with tightly tied hair, a short gown, with the black shoes, and it won’t leave anyone on doubt that she is mentally challenged, stood in front of us. As none expected she spoke more confidently and seemed brave enough. She explained what the theme “For Anvitha” stands for. Anvitha means ‘Gracious Life’ and this event is held to provide such a gracious life to many more like me. ‘I have got one; let me give one’, she said when she stopped.

          At next the MC introduces an admirable personality, none other than Anvitha’s  mother. A decent looking lady, in a traditional south Indian saree, having a gorgeous smile and honest eyes going to tell us how she conveyed this art exhibition to the world.

          ‘Dear friends’ she approached our minds calling us friends. Those were the days of my pregnancy, having a kid in her womb a mother lives in a continuous dream land for a longest duration of nine months.  Soon after the sixth month my husband had a transfer to Bombay, with no choice I packed with him. Those were not the days of modern medical equipment, without my knowledge the baby within me grew normal but with a special brain.

          After her birth we saw uncommon moments from all normal kids. Sometimes she cried all night, when started walking she had no fear of fire, the more I told her not  to touch the things she wanted to touch them. She would put all random things she gets in her hand to mouth and eats them up. With no time we had realized she was not like all other kids we knew, not as common as all the kids in surroundings is the better sentence.

          When she was eligible for the school age we admitted her into a school nearby where all our neighbour kids started their school. From the first day itself we heard complaints of her hitting someone, she spitting at the teacher and we had to change the school in the next academic year, since they couldn’t handle her that’s the time given by school principal. My husband went on searching a new school for her every year. But we were not able accept the fact that we have a special star among us, we just felt each moment why do we have such a kid? Why our kid has this kind of situations to face.

          When I took her to school the crowd around us would look at us, the looks weren’t normal. I was shy to walk with her. Sometimes she made horrible mess pulling some girl’s dupatta, crying for the chocolate in other kid’s mouth, pulling my hair in public, running across the signal escaping from my hand. I’d limited visit to relative’s houses, friend’s parties. All neighbour kids would come to me and say ‘Anvitha, hit me.. Anvitha pulled my hair, and that and this.. ‘. Sometimes I went out of control and beat her up like an animal, soon it would leave me in tears. Sometimes she beat me back, sometimes she cried but which left me in tears is what she did most of the times, she would remain silent no matter how much I beat her, and after sometimes she sits at a corner and weeps. Which mother on this hell earth would love to see such kind of situation?

       










   While the ladies in neighbourhood suggested me some Pujas, I offered them in various temples. They did not help. My Anvitha was still the same. Some said behind my back and some directly to me that it’s our ancestor’s karma, or fruit of our sins. They said even front of Anvitha about it. And by god’s grace her heart or brain doesn’t say ‘ OK’ to such a belief. She did not ask me like any other kid who would curiously ask, ‘what that aunty was talking about, mom?’ Probably Anvitha did not care. But I cried cursing my fate, wept all over nights and wet the pillow. Sometimes Anvitha herself comforted me telling ‘they are just too silly people with silly thoughts’ what her dad had told her.

          And the school was equal to hell for her. I and my husband would get calls in between their class times to please take Anvitha back home for they could not handle her that day. At school other kids did not accept her. May be once she had hit someone, spoilt someone’s homework from then for any mistake she was to be blamed. And teachers constantly beat her. She would protest and get home for that.

          There was no difference in public transports also. She would peek out from the bus, scream suddenly and call someone’s names randomly and whole passenger crowd is behind her. They start laughing at her she wouldn’t know that they are making fun of her; she also would laugh with them. They left me in confusion many times, who is normal and who is not?

          I remember an incident at textile shop when Anvitha too small as 5 years old. She saw another kid of her age and approached her to play when I was busy doing some shopping. Suddenly I hear a sound of someone falling. It was my Anvitha and that kid’s mother had pushed her away. I ran to get her up, by then Anvitha had stood up, cleaned her hands for any dust and started walking back to me. I hugged her saying “sorry Anu... “. She did not respond, I don’t know what she felt also.

          Public places like cinema theatres, in kids play room there; if I took Anvitha there it had no difference. Some parents would come suddenly from nowhere and take their kids away. May be they predetermined that my daughter would harm them. Not a single place she had a good smile welcome and acceptance, finally she got one at St. Ann’s School.

          And after her class 6 some things changed drastically. Till then Anvitha did not wanted to go to school, her stubborn fights to avoid schools had stopped. She started getting up soon to get ready. Only few kids who showed courtesy to play with her had no complaints anymore. She started learning her homework, moreover I saw her hanging with color pens, crayons, paints and more likely she would catch a charcoal piece and draw random things. Someday she had her mother on saree on her drawing sheet and other days her house. More than everything though all had problems with her she loved everyone. She drew a sketch and said it’s her old school classroom and said the kids in that are her old friends. And surprisingly we had no complaints from school rather they called us for appreciation on her kids behaviour. St. Ann’s school had won Anvitha. 

          She never came back home thereafter for hurting someone in the class, she had no problems like before that teachers would beat her. I started preserving her drawings. They improved day after day and today you see what she is. I must tell thanks to St. Ann’s management the main sponsor of this event for giving a ‘Gracious life’ to my child and many more. Its great place where all kids study with no respect to disability but taking the best out of their abilities

          All you gathered here as a charity, you must have done it for the sympathy. But I will tell you my child or any other child in this school does not require it. In talents they stand somewhere in higher place than all of us self called ‘normals’. At kindness to each other these kids are just like Mother Theresa. All they require from us is acceptance. They too are part of this world. They too have feelings. They also are just like any of us but with some awkward parts in their body. But if God was so confident enough to send them to the world, then he must have given them some more gifts that none of us have, to live better and stronger. You see blinds, deaf, dumb and handicapped, you can only see but they feel, you just hear; they taste the talk, you talk but they express, you think they have no legs and can't walk but they have wings and able to fly. It's matter of attitude, they need some support and will live on their own effort. And finally thank you for helping them in providing ‘Gracious Life’ to many more.

          Now, for me it wasn’t matter of Saturday sleep or fb updates. I had sympathy for myself, God never did any mistakes while creating us, so ‘called normal people’ but we did fun of the one did not get them completely.  It was the worst state of our brain, poor setting of eye lenses, tragedy of our heart that we did not accept them, considered them as if they are not eligible to be part of us. I turned towards my right side, tears were plugged in my eyes, and hardly a voice came out ‘I’m sorry’ and the blind boy sitting replied ‘Ma’am now you know Anvitha who made that portrait you just bought’ I smiled at him and hugged him. No more he was a disabled kid but he was just like me and greater than me. It was my sign of acceptance and support to the cause ‘For Anvitha’. I would like to be the part of their Gracious Life, do you stand 'For Anvitha'? 

Inspirational video from Troy McClain teaching people about life lessons learned from people with disabilities   that are beyond the obvious.

  Mithra 

             Friday nights define me so well. Sneak into a city club house on that day. You find a guy holding a guitar someday, on keyboard sometimes and many times I steal the show on drums. I have just these magical fingers which will say Yes to any musical instruments. There is a true heart makes me sing so well, though carrying so many lies that I have told myself. So goes my weekend spending times for what I love to do. Visit to church and sing for the choir, lunch with Fr. Hilary and a tasteless but eatable (!) dinner in the hostel and an awesome day with buddies, we would eat drink laugh shout scream fight give Gaalis each other and end up Sunday in The Boys Hostel istyle.

            When comes a Monday, one can hardly get up on that day. And obviously we guys are the last ones to get into the classroom. Our teachers have five minutes dedicated for us with their common and byhearted dialogues. May be our brain doesn't interprets that, it neither makes us feel bad nor makes us start early to the class.

             The great engineering class filled some 60 and odd heads. Half of them including me wouldn't have been there if money did not matter. These would have been artists, dancers, clerk, farmer and someone who is not an engineer if they could be what they wished to be and also if girls had no requirement saying ‘well educated person’ in their marriage resume! With most of us doing which doesn't take us into account, had filed up backlogs on our heads. With some lecturer’s important questions, notes from girl’s and invigilator’s mercy upon us we cleared them at least on the deadline.

            So there is little for me to study. I’m not meant for it is the first and important thing I have realized in the first semester itself. Still I’m carrying it because I have been bound by the campus. Living the campus is not a new thing for me. I have been doing it ever since I can recall things of my existence. In some campus boarding school, I learnt to eat, to dress up, fought with seniors for our rights, when kids at home started with their toys we boys started with basketball. When they started using the crayons we moved our fingers on the guitar. There was no mother since I lost her in the small age only. A priest warden took care of us and there were Sumathi Akka and Rethu Akka who hugged us when we showed them some medals we won, some prizes we got and for some compliments we got in the school.

            Dad was remarried for a new mother to me. After marriage he was more of her husband than my dad. No complaints with him since he has a new family. He never made me feel bad on money matter, he sends enough of it. Whenever he comes down to India I get lot of things for me. But ever since I have joined boarding I did not go to my house. Till my grandparents were alive they took me their place. Unfortunately they disappeared from this world in an accident together, when I was in fourth standard. From then I lived my school days holidays and all the days with Fr.Hilary. And before this vacation he also left me. Dad’s visits have become very rare since I have grown up.

            When my friends go to their home during holidays, they describe their mother’s love. Though I feel like crying for the fate I have, I hold it and eat whatever they have sent for their "Mithra". Mithra makes a joke and everybody laughs again. Mithra doesn't show up his pain to anyone. He never says he misses his family. Never even asks what mothers are like!!?  It’s however a four days world doesn't last long why spend it with cries. 

            We ate drank laughed shouted screamed played fought and gave Gaalis to each other and slept, all except for Mithra and he tried to but he could not.  

I did not sleep, I couldn't,  My grief created a cart on my heart, it was heavy and I wanted an end. From the very famous escape from the hostel I moved out. Heading towards the railway track I decided ‘Mithra do not talk to anyone; even yourself, you may change the decision’. Laying on the track for the train to pass which I was sure quiet close by I said my mother and Fr.Hilary I’ll see them soon.

Ever since I know everyone has a mother who is an angel. I have tried imagining mine. What she was like? How much she loved me ! how many times she would have hugged me saying “my son…”. Nothing I know not even one single clue except one family photo that my dad mailed me on my request. Fr.Hilary was only person with whom I have cried telling things; he would console me no matter how many times I went with the same problems. He was only reason I could survive till now. I spent my holidays spending time near his grave. There was no place for me in the boarding without him and I had returned to hostel within some days and spent days there almost alone.

I don’t know why suddenly a thought went in my mind what if my mother had seen me laying on the railway track, she would come running to save me!! My conscious mind heard Fr. Hilary “ Mithra just jump out of it, Son, Soon”. For the closest siren of the train I had just kept my legs out of the track, and watched the entire train passing close to me without blinking.

I remembered the song Better Life

When you fall; when you break

When you wish you didn't feel

Keep your head; don’t forget

It's the pain that makes us real.

      I got up from that place moved to the hostel. I decided the new life. A survive in-spite the pain inside. I said "I deserve a better life, from now, to forever".  It was still dawn. There was no wake up calls even during the exams but there was a search for their missing Mithra. Guys had come out of the hostel for the search; though I had showed off I’m fine they had seen tears getting stored in my eyes on the previous night.

            I literally couldn't speak when they hugged me and scene became cool after hours.

            Though we have sang a thousand songs together from then, have been late to  the class as usual, managed to clear the subjects using all the methods we invented and inherited from the seniors, and they have tried to make me happy taking me to their homes, I still don’t dare telling them the foolish thing I was about to commit.

Afreen

            Breathing in her womb, I was growing like any other expected human baby. Wondering what the world is, how it looks like! How would it welcome me? Just few months ahead and I will see them all. It was an open dream. Living in her womb for months is how I know her. So close, I’m connected to her. I can feel her heart beats. Sometimes she is very relaxed and sometimes stressed. She is my Mom. Soon she will hold me in her arms. My Dad will kiss her for the beautiful angel into their small world. Life is like never before. My cries, my smiles will keep them happy ever. I can’t wait to see their excitement. What would they name their baby Girl?

         Hey it’s Afreen. Nice name isn’t it?  You must have heard my story. If not I will let you know. I was killed. Beaten bitted brutalized. I fought to death for a week and then gave up. I was just three months old baby. Oh sorry! Girl baby. My mother kept weeping there for seven days. If I was survived one day I would make her feel proud for what she did for me. My father wanted a boy child.

            So much I had to say him and to all who said I was girl. How could I fight for my rights? How could I say him please let me live? How could I stop him from killing his own daughter?

            Let me take a chance. Let me tell you something I wanted tell my dad and entire world. May be I could have proved, if I was given a chance.

            All of you might have planted a tree. You dig a hole, keep the plant in it and put some soil. Give some initial support, feed some water. After some days you don’t even know how far the roots have spread out over soil. How the plant turns a tree fighting against the rain, the wind and the storms. When it turns a tree it becomes a house of hundreds of birds, shadow to the passerby and balances the environmental health.

            Afreen also wanted only so much. Happy faces on my arrival, celebrating hearts, welcome songs. All I wanted at my tender age is love affection and care. Mom’s nonstop watch over my every single move and dad’s big heart to play with me when he reaches home from his workplace. I couldn’t call Ma or Paa but every time you called Afreen I’d a wide smile. You knew I wanted to respond. I hugged you. I pulled your hair and caught you tight in my small arms. That’s how I could show I love you. That’s how I said thank you for bringing me into the world. That’s how I said I’m your Daughter.

            Sad! Dad, you never got it. You wanted a boy. You thought only a boy could take care of you. Only Son can support you at your old age was your believe. Look at the world around, why you see only clouds? Haven’t you seen the rains after them? No girl has been proved in this world that she can be independent; she can take care of her parents? A girl can be a great mother, she can be a loving wife but why not a Daughter?

             It would have taken some years I agree. But then I could have been something great. May be CEO of a MNC like Indra Nooyi or may be like Kalpana Chawla and step into the Moon. If not like them I would atleast be your loving daughter to support you. If you had allowed me to touch your fingers catch them and learn walking, I would have given my shoulders at your old age. If you had given me a chocolate today and hugged me, Dad for your love, I would have counted the stars whole night, when you fall sick and get no sleep. You know what dear dad you could see it my little eyes but you never observed all these.

            If you’d educated me, you wouldn't lose anything. But you would have educated the world around me. If you’d given me a good life you wouldn’t be a loser. But a winner. Dad, Just imagine in school if I had given with a topic ‘Your Dad’ and I explain how big hero you are for me! Nothing like that happened in both of our life. I have not seen what schools are like and you have not given me time to be eligible for school age.

            When I was born I had dreamt you will accept me as biggest gift in life. Not really! Gift will be worshiped by you only if it’s a boy. When I was born I wanted you to protect me but you were so busy in estimating the dowry that should be paid at my wedding!!!

           Lastly, You blessed me with a beautiful name. Afreen. Does it mean Lucky, Dad? Was I really Lucky? Wish I could be one.

            

At half past five, we started with a cup of coffee,

This man has abundant wealth but lonely.

Half of his life he worked hard, he struggled

to give an easy life to his children,

and when he was done earning for them;

they got busy earning for their children.

His lovely wife who loved him, she passed away, 

when the man was busy buying life for his family.

My uncle introduced this man on internet social world,

I found Him as a great personality with excellent knowledge

I had heard about his works, people call them masterpiece.

Just to start a conversation I queried on his work experience

The old man didn't seem to show interest!!

Once, he was the champion and he was always correct,

But today, he knows he missed what was really important.

I was silent realizing the man's depth of sadness,

He uttered some words to my surprise!

He said, it all started in a daily travel bus,

that day, specific day he still remembers!!

She looked like one of those heavenly angels.

THAT girl soon became HIS girl, time to b happy!

but the same time didn't slow down 

it is a running horse and it goes on. 

Before he woke up from her lovely dream

that was the time for him to find a job.

It wasn't easy, but there was a family left behind

Ill father, struggling mother and half a dozen of siblings

Finding a first job is like a stray dog finding a shelter, he said,

finally when I could earn for my family, I was the only pillar

but with the little savings I did, I bought a new car.

Car thing!! It really changed my status.

A man working overseas and a car besides,

He is rich, will take care of our daughter were their thoughts,

I married my love, the only girl I choose from all girls.

But this name and fame that is the face of evil,

That ruins your whole life’s happiness

And that obviously happened in my life too.

there's where I forgot that I cannot buy a life,

Everyone has to make one of their own

By loving, by caring and not just by earning.

The coffee cup was almost empty

Man with great achievement,

big house and a dozen of workers,

He said all of them worked on his commands

but he wasn't happy; there was no one of his own

none to love, care and share

He looked relaxed indeed better

than what he was while holding filled cup.

Then when we finished the cup

he had shared some of his life story,

definitely, they were valuable moments for him.

his first love, first job, first car

and how they really changed his life

Then came time to say him bye

and when I put my bag on my shoulder

he said a great one liner

“The three petals of life,

love yourself, love Others, love God, 

don't miss even one of them,

because one missing petal

will annoy that flower's beauty"

I smiled and said, see you for another cup of coffee soon.

I look at you shining star up above the sky.

You remind me of my best friend,

Someone close to my heart,

Someone lives far away,

Someone who loved me, supported me, appreciated things I did.

Someone always had complaints.

A teacher who gave me a first "very good star".

Childhood friends with whom I played hard.

Neighbor kids with whom we assumed life will be so easy if we grow up,

looking at a college going cousin.

 Granny lived near the playground with chocolates for us every day.

Seniors taught me how to break school rules.

My moody cousin, cute nephew, and an aunt with super gossips.

A person who smiled at me in a strange crowd,

A person spoke home language to me in a hi-tech city.

A smiling face that comforted in hard situation.

An amazing photographer.

Childhood favorite hero, had done real things for me in the movie.

Someone stood by me, when someone never cared.

Someone I could never thank and someone I couldn't apologize.

Someone tried to make me happy catching the pain within them.

The soldiers on the boarder pay their life to save me,

without even knowing me.

A beggar lady blessed me when I kept just rupee coin on her hand.

A man on the roadside convinced me that I will be a millionaire

if I buy a lottery ticket from him.

Someone saved my life.

Someone I always had wrong impression turned to be the best.

Someone I loved the most turned their face as if they don't know me.

Someone always had good words but bad mind.

Someone said there is no hope but other showed me how beautiful is our life.

Someone I called million times but they could never come back.

Whatever they are they made my days.

Kept me alive, made me fight, and cared along

And so I could be strong.

They showed how funny, crazy,

good looking but bad minded is the world,

to adjust with the situations,

to bend where supposed to,

and to raise where need to,

to live than just to survive.

That’s how I learnt

With all of its sorrows it’s a wonderful life.

 

Dear star, you look so small from the window.

But I see my world in you.

Countless distance between you and me,

The space between my fingers,

The moving curtains between the hearts,

And their absence.

I close my eyes, tears roll down,

The reason is unknown,

But

I miss them all

because sometimes its more than just the memories.

And my heart silently whispers

God keep them happy and safe.

On earth and those departed souls, the soldiers sacrificed their life,

And my loving dad

With them, he already has reached your home.

Watching out of the window pane,

Son your mom is waiting for your plane.

A celebration scene in our lane,

To welcome their hero once again.

      They give me weird reason,

                But how that can happen?

                Is destiny so insane?

                To keep my heart broken.

Can someone do this to me?

They stole my diamond, my gem.

When they had enough of them,

Only one belonged to me.

         I could fight with a stone or a wall,

That made my son fall.

How could you fight this battle

Keeping it secret from me, my angel.

The wait was creeping cruel,

Son the days without you were horrible.

Before I could hug you and wail,

The Heaven gave you an immediate call.