ಜೋಗದ ಸಿರಿ ಬೆಳಕಿನಲ್ಲಿ ತುಂಗೆಯ ತೆನೆ ತಳುಕಿನಲ್ಲಿ
ಸಹ್ಯಾದ್ರಿಯ ಲೋಹದದಿರ ಉತ್ತುಂಗದ ನಿಲುಕಿನಲ್ಲಿ ನಿತ್ಯಹರಿತ್ಸ್ವರ್ಣವನದ ತೇಗ ಗಂಧ ತರುಗಳಲ್ಲಿ
ನಿತ್ಯೋತ್ಸವ ತಾಯಿ ನಿತ್ಯೋತ್ಸವ-ಡಾ|| ಕೆ. ಎಸ್. ನಿಸಾರ್ ಅಹ್ಮದ್As usual, I have no idea what Dr Ahmad is on about. ಜೋಗದ ಸಿರಿ-I guess he is trying to say Jog falls are quite spectacular.
ಹರಿತ್ ಸ್ವರ್ಣವನ, no problems, he is spot on about the lush evergreen rain forest ( incidentally, I am not too sure about the
ಗಂಧ , bit - I didn't see a lot of it). The rest is really beyond me. I must say, I have listened to this song being sung endless number of times, by different singers and groups, all in the same tune - and I have enjoyed it every time.
Some one, please, please enlighten me!If I say Dr Ahmed is being obscure, I will be slaughtered - between the last time I visited India to now, he has entered the hallowed club of writers/ Poets Who Cannot Be Criticised. However, I agree he is a poet, and by definition would lose his street cred if he said things plainly, and in simple kannada.
As you may have guessed, I was in India, and made a quick trip to Jog falls. It was a wonderful trip. We were lucky to get good weather, in spite of the monsoons. We were conducted around by our friend, who has lived in Sagara most of his life. We stepped off the beaten pathway and visited remote farms, the backwaters of the Linganamakki dam. We wallowed in the famed malenadu hospitality. The brief visits to houses, farms, cups of steaming tea, and affection showered on absolute strangers such as us. We ticked all the appropriate touristy boxes, including the big falls. We laboured up the mountain, in itself a wonderful journey, and when we reached the top, we exulted on seeing the falls, partly for having reached there, and partly for seeing it. There wasn't much time left, so I hurried around, photographing them as many times as I could. The fog played games with us, now obscuring, now revealing the view. The light may seem vastly differing in these photos, but that was just me experimenting with different exposure times and apertures.
On my way back, and now, sitting at my desk, there are a few things that stuck in my mind. When we visited the backwaters, we also went to a farm, bordering the reservoir, one of the ones which survived the Sharavathi project. After tea and some chat, I was talking to G.... (our guide), and asked him about the people who were displaced by the reservoir. he told me around 20 villages, with at least one big town, and around 12 000 people were relocated. When I asked them about their fate, he told me some of them had managed to get on with their lives, whereas the others never got close to the life styles they left behind.
Later, when we went out to the backwaters, we saw well constructed roads disappearing into the reservoir, islands sticking out of the reservoir, which must have been low hills before they submerged.... stumps of tall trees. The whole idea of entire towns lying there under water spooked me.
How would you feel, to return from your holidays and to be told your house was now underwater, here's Rs.2000/- to compensate, thank you for your sacrifice, Have a good life!
They sacrificed a lot so we could all watch mungaaru male on our LCD TVs in Bengaluru. Did they have a chance to say no? How about the elephants of the valley, who lost their bearings, encountering a massive lake where their regular feeding grounds lay? And what about the diversity, the flora and fauna of this incredibly beautiful, rich, rain forest?
I can see this snowballing into a big debate........ There are pros and cons for this, lets skip that and save a lot of angst for all of us.
For those of you who like a bit of a scrap,
here's some ammunition.
I have a small story for the end. At the height of he bad old days of the cold war, the East bloc sent a delegation of citizens to the US, so they might observe and sneer at the decadent west. One of the delegates, a woman, apparently defended her own country steadfastly at every oppportunity, until she saw the rows and rows of fresh vegetables and produce in a supermarket. Then she wept.
Look the jogada gundi, as it might have been, had we not built the dam. You might weep too.
(cheer up, it might have meant you didn't have to watch Mungaaru
male - while a decent movie with soothing music, has the lead played by an actor whose face has an unfortunate resemblance t
o a pumpkin)
Sing with me......
ಮಾನವನಾಗಿ ಹುಟ್ಟಿದ್ಮೇಲೆ ಎನೇನ್ ಕಂಡಿ
ಸಾಯೋದ್ರೊಳ್ಗೆ ಸಂಸಾರ್ದೊಳ್ಗೆ ಗಂಡಾಗುಂಡಿ
ಏರಿಕೊಂಡು ಹೋಗೋದಲ್ಲ ಸತ್ಮೇಲ್ ಬಂಡಿ
ಇರೋದ್ರೊಳ್ಗೆ ಒಮ್ಮೆ ನೋಡು ಜೋಗಾದ್ ಗುಂಡಿ
I have since then done some research on Fuchsias. I started with the spelling, which according to a website is often misspelt as 'Fuschia'. See the pronounciation as well, as in the title. In case you are wondering what the last letter'ə' means, it is meant to be pronounced a as in sofa. There are around 13 150 named varieties of Fuchsias. Fuchsias were named after the yonder intense looking gentleman, Fullmaurer Leonhart Fuchs, a physician who was one of the 'founding fathers' of botany, no less.
