Its not just that super stylish Shashi Tharoor has disillusioned me; may be I graduated out of his ilk for good, but the HINDHU publishes Tejaswi’s death in some small column in some inside page in the Bangalore edition. I wish they screw themselves to death.
When I accidentally saw the newspaper after my morning tea, I was in tears and stuck hard. Clueless, the shopkeeper questioned , why are you becoming so emotional?
Allas, how I tried to explain him that , clueless simpletons like him in small towns, were the heroes of his novels. All I could convince him was that , he was the son of a person with a heard name “KUVEMPU”.
The happiness quotient of Tejaswi must have been the greatest among the contemporary writers, since he was so irresponsible that , he was too happy with the life and world, that he forgot to respond!!! He just lived among nature’s wonders in the forest and ate himself to obesity to heart attack and to death .
Tejaswi was strangulated by the scholarly ambiance of his father and sort of became anti-brahmanic in his exterior. But I cant escape that he was inheriting the legacy of KUVEMPU.
After the past 15 months of my near death(or was it post death!) experiences, I know for sure that there is nothing like sudden death. Its a contiguous process. But then
Ithna na maayuus ban
kar zara zindadili
kyo nahi dikhthi tumhe vo
kabr par khilthi kali
jisko kahthe ho andhera
voh to din ki shuruvaath hi
zindagi kya baath hi
zindagi kya baath hi
