How things …

I am from the school of thought which says that the best writing comes from writers who have been through a lot of pain. I personally think I write better when I am depressed. Which is annoying, because I am not depressed now, and I can’t think of anything nice to write. BUT, I wrote this today, and I like it, and I am happy about it. I am thinking of re-evaluating the effect of a negative emotion on my writing.

I was waiting for you today at the traffic light. So we could stand next to each other and wait for green together. So that I could be a red-light-boy and you could be a red-right-girl and I could say, ‘Hi, do you want to be red-light-friends?’ We could meet at the traffic lights everyday and chat up in 45 seconds. Everyday could start with your traffic light smile. And I could be annoyed and have a bad day when you don’t turn up. And then many red lights later, perhaps, we could meet elsewhere, someplace quiet.

Finally the rural stint is here. I shall blog it. And in honour of the great rural stint, I have added a new tab on the top that directly takes you to the story of my rural adventure.

Wish me luck.

Oh, and please comment on why you read books in the previous post. Please please please. Pretty please.

Tee-twenty-two,
this-is-for-you.

New story up — link here.

Context — I wanted to write something for folks back at insti for a long time, having completed a year out of it. Since Sooper asked me to do exactly that, I said, ok, done! And yet, preaching doesn’t go well with insti junta and I think I sound really bad when preaching (Maybe BoFi will remember my attendance preach!). So I wanted to knit it into a story. I am not sure if I did a good job and I am not sure if they are picking it up, but, its written and I am happy with the outcome. Thanks to Prats for edits.

As usual, comment there, not here.

Oh. And three years.

THE BLACK KITTEN

– Gatsby, Smoke, Chops and the Poetess

The Gatsby proposed the story
The Holy Smoke gave it wind
The Carry Chops gave it colour
The Poetess gave it a sine
Together, they spoke in rhyme

Hear, hear :

Bert and Ron, in the middle of the road,
Sat down to rest their weary soles;
Ere Bert was asleep, Ron gave a holler:
“How long afore you think, that jeep’ll run us over?”
“10 meters!”, reported the engineer bright,
Ron, meanwhile, is all ready for flight.
As Fate would have, brakes couldn’t avoid the hittin,
But them it didn’t; it hit a luckless black kitten!

Kitten being dead, the Soul prepared to leave,
All ready to rise, and Heavens to receive.
The pull but came, from below, so it fell
“Black Black Kitten Soul! You belong in Hell!”
“Apartheid! My Lord! So truly unfair!”
“Just one way out…that if you dare
To scratch a Human and set Soul free.”
Failure alas! For Metaphysical Misery!
No longer substance, the Soul couldn’t touch;
Leave alone scratch, or for that matter clutch!

Smart Soul then, had an idea bright,
Thought no more, but entered right
Into the body of Bert not Ron,
Cause Bert had more muscle and brawn.
Though ready to scratch, the Soul but fails,
For Alas! Bert had not the long-sharp-NAILS!

“No matter! no matter! we’ll sit and wait,
For nails to grow, for thats our Fate.”
And they sat 3 years, like roadside beggars;
Incidentally, the driver was Arnold Schwarzenegger.

As the three years drew to an end,
The Soul had nails no man could defend.
All ready to scratch and liberate itself,
But lo! a Spaceship, and out came an elf;
Elf-like Aliens rather, with multiple heads,
Armed with nail cutters and so they said:
“We come to rid the world of the muck
Who grow their nails and never cut!”

“Start with the First Man! Let there be drama!”
And they flew to inspect Barrack Obama.
The Oval Office, they found him in,
All wan and pale, with fingers thin,
And nails so long, bade the aliens utter:
“Give us all your Nail Cutters!”

Obama grabbed a cutter and ran,
To simultaneously cut, was his plan.
But footnails he couldn’t, while he was running,
A fierce chase then followed, with constant gunning.
A cave he ran into, breathless with fear
But aliens at the door, the end is now near.

But to his surprise, Kitten Soul appeared:
“I started, I’ll end; Dont be afeard!”
With a puppy face, “MEOW!” he’d spoken,
And lo! The Aliens were all Nail-broken!

New story up. Click here.

As usual, comment here, no there.