Personal Reflection

The reduced footprints unleashed a burst of life. Squirrels roamed freely, butterflies flitted, and fish leaped. Birds—ducks, cormorants—danced for their prey, their excitement palpable. Stray dogs, or “adopted” ones, rested on concrete steps, secure in the quiet. Life was coming alive.

What makes HSV so special to me is how he connected different worlds in Kannada literature. He was a bridge between the pre-Navya (pre-modern) and post-Navya (modern) movements, blending the classical grace of poets like Pampa and Kumaravyasa with the fresh energy of modern Kannada poetry. His work in the Bhavageete genre—those lyrical, soul-stirring poems set to music—touched hearts across generations. He saw poetry as something natural, like a tree bursting into bloom. “Whe

Let’s challenge schools to embody the ideals they proclaim. An elephant may be innocent, but education demands strength, purpose, and truth. Let’s ensure that the names we celebrate reflect the reality we seek for our children.

The priest chirped about soul-cleansing, but I bet the flock missed the metaphor, too busy chasing social shiny bits. I mumbled the Gayatri mantra in Kiran’s right ear, wondering why the left got no love.