Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Reading Humbert

My eyes scan the lines,
My fingers touch the cover,
I can barely contain
The loathing;
The aftermath of your
Lustful and vile rancour.
I sense your mind traverse
The length and breadth,
The tone and colour,
The aura of that fiendish seraph
Who deigns to feed your longing.
Oh this woe begotten memoir!
There isn't a beginning to its end.

P.S.- A hint to the interpretation, 'Lolita' by Vladimir Nabokov.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Let's Dress Down

Talk of inflation isn't becoming of the nonchalant,but sometimes undignified purging is quite therapeutic.The double digit demon that threatens to make our lives trite and mundane is here with a sardonic grin and a bag full of bad couture.We may as well forgo epicurean pleasure and be content with the most distasteful grub on our plates.This is the era of stifled musicians,emaciated writers, starving artists and those dreadfully long skirts that sweep the floor with every swish.It's time to dress down to show solidarity with the economy.Strangely enough,as history has taught us,the length of a skirt is directly proportional to the cost of fabric! Let's all dress down in sombre habit till our pockets start to ring with the annoying cry of 'bling bling'!

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Guilt in the Reading Room

Last Saturday I found myself,quite intentionally I must admit,in a bookstore.This was clearly a violation of the oath I had taken, swearing not to set foot in a bookstore till I read all that there was to read at home.At that point in time,I came up with the unreasonable premise that as a Diva,I am morally bound to have a new book to read every week. The proponents of haute-couture will no doubt empathize with my predicament if they replace 'book' with 'dress' and 'week' with 'day' in the previous sentence.

I walked out with a motley crew of books,ranging from the tragic to the political and ultimately the perverse.I picked up 'Authority and the Individual' (which I have just completed),'The City of Joy','Atonement' and finally 'Lolita' (the lust-laden first line has me all geared to pick a winner D. H. Lawrence or Nabokov).

In an attempt towards atonement I am reading 'We the Living',so that the older books don't feel 'jealous' of the new ones.When you spend as much time with books as I do you start to think that books are comatose necromancers with horrendous powers.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Solitude

I cannot breathe the odor of din.
Here I am bereft of wit,
Hungry for soliloquy.
I crouch in the comfort
Of a seemly mirage.
How it flits,turns and spins;
Till I seek solace
And remain still
Until all is forgotten.
Oh solitude,oh solitude
I recall nothing else.

P.S.-I wonder if post rock is sometimes effective in alienating a poetess from her poetic license.