Monthly Archives: September 2015

ಕನ್ನಡ ಚುಟುಕ

ಕನ್ನಡವಿರಲಿ ಕಣಕಣವೂ
ಕನ್ನಡ ಬೆಳೆಸಿ ಕ್ಷಣಕ್ಷಣವೂ
ಕಂಕಣತೊಟ್ಟ ಅಂಕಣವೆಲ್ಲವೂ
ಕಿಣಿಕಿಣಿ ಎನ್ನಲಿ ಅನುದಿನವೂ

ಕನ್ನಡವಿರಲಿ ಕಣಕಣವೂ
ಕನ್ನಡ ಬೆಳೆಸಿ ಕ್ಷಣಕ್ಷಣವೂ
ಕಂಕಣತೊಟ್ಟ ಅಂಕಣವೆಲ್ಲವೂ
ಕಿಣಿಕಿಣಿ ಎನ್ನಲಿ ಅನುದಿನವೂ

Written by Asha Melkote


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What it means to be a Kannadiga

I have not written on any topic for a long, long time.  As a youngster and as an young man growing up, I was a freelance writer, contributing articles to almost all news papers in India.  But that was in English only. Therefore, to attempt to write about being a Kannadiga even in English was a daunting task for me. Yet I thought I should give it try and here is the result.

Well, I was born in a Kannada family. From the ripe old age 4 or 5, I began to sing Kannada devotional songs, whenever opportunity presented itself. When I moved to New Delhi at the age of 23 or 24, I became an active member of local Madhwa Sangha, that was instrumental in the establishment of a Sri Krishna and Sri Raghavendra temple there. There again, religiously every Thursday and Saturday and on all important religious occasions I took pleasure and pride in singing Kannada devotional songs.

Then came my marriage to my beautiful and dutiful wife, Gita and then a son, strictly in that order.  We moved to New York in early 1971. Those days, forget about Kannadigas, even Indians as a whole were far and few in between. It was with great trepidation that we came to New York.  But much to my relief, I had a Kannada friend at work, by name K.M.Shetty.  Through him I came to know Bheema Rao, who was living in the same apartment building as K.M.Shetty. A little later, we were joined by another Kannada friend, D’Souza. This was the small circle of friends we had at that time  Then in late 1973 or early 1974, we came to know Seshadri and his wife Sri Devi.  It is from them that we came to know about the existence of Kannada Koota, Immediately I became a member, but only on annual basis. In 1976, Seshadri and his wife, who at that time were our neighbors in Flushing, came over to our place for a short visit.  By then, they had come to know my liking for sweets.  So cleverly, they had brought some Mysore Pak for me. After eating the sweets, we quickly slipped into topic about Kannada Koota. Seshadri persuaded me to become a life member of the Koota.

Thus began my long and continuing association with Kannada Koota, New York.  During the past 40 years very many distinguished persons have served the Koota in various capacities.  We all owe them a huge debt of gratitude for making Koota what it is today.  I distinctly remember that on the Gowri and Ganesha habba, I used to sing devotional songs andmy son Anil was an active volunteer in all Koota activities.  After his move to New Jersey, he lost touch with New York Kannada Koota

As could be seen from the above synopsis, I was born a Kannadiga, raised as a Kannadiga and continue to lead  life as a Kannidiga. I have always been proud to be a Kannadiga and to this day do not hesitate to wear a Kannadiga badge as a badge of honor.

Written by Gururaja G. Rao

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Happy Father’s Day

Dad doesn’t have all that Mom has got;
She is sweet and she is soft;
She is quick to hide you in the folds of her dress
When Dad knows what you were up to
And is coming at you!
So, you think you don’t need your Dad?

Dad indeed has some rough edges, it seems;
His itchy, scratchy day old beard,
His arms hairy and beefy, his hands rough, voice deep.
But you can’t wait for him to come home,
Lift you up in the air
And call you his princess or his tiger!

The older you get the more you need your dad.
He is your mentor. He is your guide!
He instills in you a boldness you can’t survive without.
Teaches you to play baseball and soccer.
Wants to make a model of yourself.
And his girl, soft on the outside, resilient inside.

He may not cry over your every nicks and cuts.
He may not even sing you a lullaby
But he claps the loudest when you are catching the ball,
Leads you to the adult life you are about to enter,
Teaches you to tough it out,
Molding you to live constructively and happily.

Blessed are the children who can greet their dads
Year after year on their special day
And, causing their eyes moisten with sweet emotion.

Written by Suvasini Subramaniam

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New Year, New Experiment

The art of living
Is a fine mimicry of science;
Researching for a better existence,
An incessant challenge, so ruthless.
So full of uncertainties.

In the Life’s Lab
There are decisions to be made,
Discretion to be maintained,
Priorities to be constantly reconsidered;
It is an active lab, fully charged.

It might be a total failure!
The ploy is to re-channel the course.
Change the ingredients, proved poisonous,
Start a new experiment in earnest.

There is already a gossip
Spreading wildly in the lab;
The fruit of the labor is already showing
The much anticipated progress.
The infant year is going to be all right!

Written by Suvasini Subramaniam

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