I'm afraid I simply must pause to wonder why exactly a contraceptive is named after the devious method employed by the Greeks to gain access to Troy. I honestly doubt anyone mistakes that for a harmless peace offering, or is surprised when amidst the drunken revelry, the "Greek soldiers" come rushing out.
If you ask me, the manufacturers have clearly never had an honest amorous relationship in their lives to feel the need to resort to such devilish trickery and "Lay siege" to Troy.
But returning to SuperComputerMan, who is admittedly a magician when it comes to dealing with any sort of computer related chaos... Is it not possible, that like the darker side of all super heroes, SCM's brave, "cool-geek" facade hides the heart of a voyeur? What if the nights I spend anxiously waiting for my PC to be returned to me are nights that he spends waltzing through the corridors of my virtual memory?
Fuck. He probably knows every single thing about me.
Alright, I'm done being paranoid now.
I've done little in the past month except study obsessively (and still not enough), get maddeningly shpeech shlurringly drunk, stay awake for days then pass out for days and mope about my mother being away. I did get a haircut against my better judgement which I suspect makes me look like Amelia Jane. (I can't believe you don't remember her.)
But no, the haircut doesn't come with the ability to make snakes emerge from people's posteriors.
The first term paper I wrote for class was a miserable failure. Alright so maybe not a complete failure, but it certainly didn't make ASR swoon at my brilliance. This was particularly distressing because:
1. The paper was on Greek Philosophy.
To better explain the import of this; I have often - and not necesarily when inebriated - considered naming my child Socrates, Diotima, Dionysus (alright, that time I was drunk)etc. Reading fragments of Heraclitus and dialogues like the Symposium has the same effect on me as SRK's six pack.
2. The paper was on Love, and how it liberates you from the bonds of ignorance. (Oh sod off with your cynical scoffing.)
3. ASR, aforementioned prof, is the sort of demi - god who listens to Nietzsche when he jogs, speaks five languages, is passionately devoted to fighting for the rights of the underprivileged students of DU, and in short turns all cynical scoffing into eulogy-singing. Even in sky blue trousers and sunshine yellow ties he makes you swoon with every artfully phrased idea (Gk. eidos), witticism and smile.
And so many a day was spent gazing drunkenly into the depths of glasses of alcohol and telling anyone who would listen that the gods of Philosophy had spurned me. Sober moments were spent planning the details of how to buy myself an auto rickshaw and obtain a license (Dude. Fleecing the public is the most lucrative career in Delhi). Somehow these things always happen when ma is away, and living in a theatrically messy house adds to the sense of profound tragedy.
Fortunately for me, and all those that I exhausted with my tale of woe, ASR is not just the ubermensch but also a considerate teacher who believes in giving students a second chance.I got an extra week to tighten my argument and the result was immensely satisfactory, both because it hiked up my marks and prompted him to call my paper "very romantic!".
On that happy note, I leave to have chai with ma.
The song, as songs often do, eerily encapsulates all the inner turmoil.
4 comments:
haha, you do look like her :-P
which is to say, it's cute.
Sorry for leaving this here, but wanted you to have a reply to your comment. cheers.
The point madam, is that the impulse to be more than a phallus is constantly shot down.
There are things pornographic and things that are not. A daily babe application is about nothing more than a brief boner. In love, one looks far beyond appearance. The point is not whether i can or cannot look beyond appearance. It is the implicit notion that my penis gives me superior rights and somewhat nobler duties. Thats the fuck up. The security subtle or gross, provided by a cock is not what i want to be wanted for. I understand the language is strong. Try and look past it.
Most men i think, dont judge me for what i look like. How many women can say the same about other women?
thanks for the criticism, much appreciated.
Joshi
The point likewise, is that the impulse to be more than a sum total of great body parts - which do NOT include your brain, is also shot down for women. Why be smarter? Most men are threatened by it, don't understand it, prefer not to be around it. It's simpler to read Vogue and go to the beauty parlour and not give a damn about the fact that your opinions and voice are of little or no importance.
All I was saying was, don't be "most men".
Sure, in love one looks far beyond appearance. Just like the stereotypical MCP who would love to have a girlfriend for all the scanty clothes and kinky sex, but with the wife he loves it's all about good Indian bahu, missionary style.
How do you justify depicting a woman like a piece of meat on a public forum saying it's for the sake of a "brief boner"? Is this a justifiable end to you - things done for the sake of brief boners? Wouldn't men who grab women on buses, roads, etc. say the same thing? Maybe they're loving husbands when they go home...that makes it all good, na?
The implicit notion that your penis gives you superior rights wasn't invented by women, buddy. Share the responsibility for belonging to a culture that is inherently patriarchal, and if you have a problem with it, be part of the change...not an armchair critic, you're better than that.
The fact that most men don't judge you for what you look like and that women pretty much victimise each other for it is only a reiteration of the point that i'm making. No one makes a change because the game benefits them one way or another. Whether you're a man reaping the benefits of having a convent educated, fair, slim virgin bride who'll never do anything but agree with you, whether you're a woman with a husband which gives you a particular status in any society, or just an intellectual young man spouting rhetoric without any actual concern leeching off the admiration of the "Murakami and Vogue" readers.
always welcome.
faaak!
...to think civilization would have found and lost and found the same things with every 'generation loss'
We go from archtypically thinking all priori is square and end up sucking up words from the tomb.
Makes me kinda glad I never looked back from beatnik-lit. (Naropa, here i come)
Surplus of verbiage gives marketiblity and an audience.
Heck! Stand and point at the sky and you shall have an udience eventually. Best thing to do is leave phalli along and evolve beyond an egocentric pen-ile thrust where all that matters is who 'gives.'
Used to love Philip Roth's description in The Ghost Writer,
the complete man, as unimpressive as he is unimpressed.'
PS: Used to love Tails (lisa). Am mailing you Tim Buckley as therapy.
Keep pushing the undergrowth down.
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