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Girl at the window

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You meet a lot of people during your daily travel. Strangers, yet your companion. This story is about one such companion, Pink.  Pink is a 3-year-old girl. I actually do not know her name. I call her Pink because she has got adorable pink cheeks.  I see her almost every day from my office cab. She stays in an old house near the Frazer town signal. She puts her chin on the window and keeps waving her hand to all the passersby. Some respond back, some don't even notice.  I eagerly watch through my cab window while we pass that signal. Sometimes when I am busy talking with my cab-mates, I repent for not having seen her that day.  One day I am going to my office on my bike. My heart beats faster out of excitement while I wait in that signal to catch a glimpse of Pink. But she isn't seen at the window that day. As the signal turns green everyone starts to rush. There is an undeclared race between the bikers. “Uncle” I hear someone shout from my back. I apply my bike brakes with my f

Bookmarklet to take parameter

If you use a site a lot which has a varying query parameter, you may want to create a bookmarklet * Just bookmark any page in your browser and change the Url to the below javascript. * When clicked you get a prompt to put your query, which will directly search for the keyword in the site, in a new browser tab Change google to your site javascript:(function() {     var targetUrl = "https://www.google.com/search?q=";     new Promise (         (setQuery) => {var input = window.prompt("Enter your query:"); if (input) setQuery(input);}     )     .then (         (query) => window.open(targetUrl + query)     ); })();

Bridge bet

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Basavanapura, a small village en-route from Mysore towards holy town Nanjangood. The village was known for its serenity. River Kabini made the village ever green. Until recently, one had to use the launch boat to cross the river. Passing by vehicles were loaded onto the platform like looking boat to cross the river. After a lot of struggle the government had constructed a bridge here.   Ramu Gowda was a localite.  He worked as an office boy at the village bank.  He loved spending time alone under the bridge. Playing games, singing song, all alone, it was his private space. Siddu was from the nearby Mysore town. He was visiting his uncle, who was recently posted to the village as the bank manager. Siddu and Ramu met each other at a bank function. Acquaintance turned to friendship. Siddu found good company in Ramu. They were often seen hanging out together. Once Ramu took Siddu to his hideout, a small vent by the side of the bridge. This had now become their meeting poin

ಸೇತುವೆ ಬಾಜಿ

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ಬಸವನಪುರ ಒಂದು ಪುಟ್ಟ ಊರು. ಮೈಸೂರಿನಿಂದ ಸುಮಾರು ೧೩ ಕಿ ಮಿ ದೂರದಲ್ಲಿದ್ದು ಕಬಿನಿ ನದಿಯ ತಾಣ. ಒಂದು ಕಾಲದಲ್ಲಿ ಈ ಊರನ್ನು ದಾಟಬೇಕಿದ್ದರ ಲಾಂಚ್ (launch ) ಬಳಸಬೇಕಿತ್ತು . ಈಗ ಇಲ್ಲಿ ಒಂದು ಸೇತುವೆ ಕಟ್ಟಲಾಗಿದೆ . ಸೇತುವೆ ಬಳಿಯ ಜಾಗ ತುಂಬಾ ವಿಸ್ಮಯವಾಗಿದ್ದು ಸದಾ ಹಸಿರಿನಿಂದ ತುಂಬಿರುತ್ತಿತ್ತು ರಾಮು ಗೌಡ ಬಸವನಪುರ ಯುವಕ . ಹಳ್ಳಿಯ ಬ್ಯಾಂಕ್  ನಲ್ಲಿ office ಬಾಯ್ . ತುಂಬಾ ಬುದ್ದಿವಂತ ಆದರೆ ಸೊಂಬೇರಿ . ಸೇತುವೆ ಕೆಳಗೆ ಕುಳಿತು ಓಬ್ಬನೆ ಹಾಡಾ ಡುತ್ತ, ಒಬ್ಬನೆ ಚೌಕಾಬಾರ ಆಡುತ್ತಾ  ಸಮಯ ಕಳೆಯುವದು ಇವನ ಹವ್ಯಾಸ. ಸಿದ್ದು ಮೈಸೂರಿನವ. ಇವನ ಮಾವ ಬ್ಯಾಂಕ್ ನಲ್ಲಿ ಮ್ಯಾನೇಜರ್ ಆಗಿ ಸಧ್ಯದಲ್ಲೇ ಬಂದವರು . ಸಿದ್ದು ಮಾವನ ಮನೆಗೆ ವಾರಾಂತ್ಯ (weekend ) ಕಳೆಯಲು ಬರಿತಿದ್ದ . ಬ್ಯಾಂಕ್ ನ ಒಂದು ಸಮಾರಂಭದಲ್ಲಿ ಸಿದ್ದುಗೆ ರಾಮುವಿನ ಪರಿಚಯವಾಯಿತು . ಪರಿಚಯ ಸ್ನೇಹಕ್ಕೆ ಬೆಳೆಯಿತು . ಸಿದ್ದು, ರಾಮುನ ಭೇಟಿಯಾಗಲೆಂದೇ ಬಸವನಪುರಕ್ಕೆ  ಬರತೊಡಗಿದ ರಾಮು ತನ್ನ 'ಅಡ್ಡ ' ವನ್ನು ಸಿದ್ದುಗೆ ಪರಿಚಯಿಸಿದ್ದ. ಇದು ಈಗ ಇವರಿಬ್ಬರ ಪಾರ್ಟಿ ತಾಣ . ಇವರ ಭಾಷೆಯಲ್ಲಿ 'ತೀರ್ಥಕ್ಷೇತ್ರ' ಸಿದ್ದು , ಒಮ್ಮೆ ಹೀಗೆ ಹಳ್ಳಿಗೆ ಬಂದಾಗ ಅಲ್ಲಿಯ ಸೇತುವೆ ಬಳಿ ಅಪಘಾತ ಆಗಿರುವುದನ್ನು ನೋಡಿ ಚಕಿತನಾದ . ಹಳ್ಳಿಯವರ ದೃಷ್ಟಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಇದು  bridge ದೆವ್ವದ ಕೃತ್ಯ .  ಮಧ್ಯಾನ್ಹ ರಾಮು ವನ್ನು ಭೇಟಿಯಾದಾಗ ಅವನು ಹೇಳಿದ &#

Her cry

She always cried when her dad carried her on his shoulder to the school. He had a smile. He muttered, 'drama queen'.  But today as he drops her to the school her cry was the same; Only he could make out the difference. There was worry in his eyes. He muttered 'god   keep her safe' #safeschools #stoprape

|| world

Peter was fascinated by the parallel world, another world somewhere in this universe just like us, or may be even better. He quit his job to find one such world. The society branded him insane. His friends exclaimed why on earth you want to find out about another earth Peter was a stubborn kid. He grew up with the stubbornness. He wanted to prove something to the society. During his research he figured out that to search for a parallel world one needs so.ething that can travel faster than light.  Books, universities, professors, internet none of it provided him answer. His frustration grew day by day. His grandpa saw his franstration in the form or dark circles unattended beard. Once well dresses corporate executive now looked like a mad man His grandpa one day asked Peter as to what was bothering him. Mocking his grandpa's academic knowledge his said 'I want something that travels faster than light' With a subtle smile on his face he said thought.. Thoughts travel fast

Urn god

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I had spent half of my childhood here. Yelling, screaming, rejoicing. I still hear those echoes now. Those desi games that we played here, those fights I had here just passed by my mind. Those huge copper urns always fascinated me. The scar on my hand, the Scar, still reminded me how angry the Maha Darshari was when I tried to open the urn's seal. 15 years hence and I had decided to do my thesis on this very temple. May be it was that childhood fantasy of mine to know what is  in those urns. I had studied so much about Indian culture and never seen a caste, sect, religion, tribe worship an urn, sealed urn. I started off with an apology to the Vāsaṇa prabhu as we referred to it, loosely translated to urn god. Apology was that ‘oh god forgive me, forgive me for the fact that I will unravel the mystery inside you’. With a small pause I said 'bless me' The temple had history. It was the royal temple; it belonged to the Maharaja of Thane. The priests once were the