Ghalib's 'nah gul-e-naghmah hun nah pardah-e-saaz'

nah gul-e naġhmah hūñ nah pardah-e sāz

maiñ hūñ apnī shikast kī āvāz

tū aur ārāʾish-e ḳham-e kākul

maiñ aur andeshah'hā-e dūr-darāz

lāf-e tamkīñ fareb-e sādah-dilī

ham haiñ aur rāz'hā-e sīnah-gudāz

huu;N giriftaar-e ulfat-e .sayyaad
varnah baaqii hai :taaqat-e parvaaz

vuh bhī din ho kih us sitam-gar se

nāz kheñchūñ bajā-e ḥasrat-e nāz

mujh ko pūchhā to kuchh ġhaẓab nah huʾā
maiñ ġharīb aur tū ġharīb-navāz

asadull;āh ḳhāñ tamām huʾā

ay dareġhā vuh rind-e shāhid-bāz

I'm neither plangent lute nor melody's bloom

But alone the bruit of my own peal of doom

Thou and curls coiffed by, all breathless, the air

I and Damocles' sword that hangs by a hair

Un coeur simple, thou mine self-encrypting boast,

 Art as breast smelting mirror to Venusberg's host!

A dervish is fleet but halt to be held dear
Aflame, the forest, the hunter to draw near

To turn you coquette is my self-ruinous aim

I burn but to burn as candle to your game.

Wretchedness so secure & spreading an Estate
Protector of the Poor! do enquire of my fate

Alas! a Don Juan to his own despite
Asadullah Khan is finished quite.

Recovered memories of sexual abuse by my ex- wife

Continuing my series of harrowing revelations about the infernal fires in which my poetic sinews were forged, I am now willing for the first time to discuss the sexual abuse I suffered at the hands of my ex-wife.
The material I will present is of a highly shocking and upsetting nature and, as such, should not be viewed by anybody.

'Fuck off you work-shy loser!'-my ex would say to me every time I reproached her for sexually abusing me, thus compounding her original crime which was to describe my sculpted Tam  Bram torso as featuring 'fugugly man boobs' reminiscent of her great grand mother's wrinkled dugs as  glimpsed on family beach vacations.

The term 'fugugly',  is the sandhi form of fuck+ugly and hence clearly qualifies as being sexual (id est the employment of the word 'fuck') as well as abusive (ugly- which I'm not at all, it's just you need to view me through like 3D glasses or a blindfold or something. ).

Personally, I blame David Cameron who is perfectly happy to spend millions fighting... urm... whatever in Libya but who remains wholly indifferent to the sexual abuse suffered by Tam Brams, like myself- except ofcourse there is no second Tam Bram like myself- not to mention the terrible racial discrimination I've suffered from members of my family.

Camerono delenda est! That boy aint right.

My harrowing tale of racial discrimination in the U.K

Ever since 1977, when I moved to the U.K, I have experienced horrendous racial discrimination and stereotyping from ignorant and bigoted members of my Tam Bram family.
Mother- 'Just take my purse and spare my life! Oh. It's you Vivek.(Damn, that boy is dark!)"
Father- 'Do you see that fellow walking up the road? There goes the neighborhood! Oh. It's Vivek. (Damn, that boy is dark!)"
Grandmother- 'Aiyayo! idha worru Kaurrupu Vijaykantha ah? Oh. Vivek daan. (Damn, that boy is dark!)'
Elderly Aunty- 'Hey sexy, you wanna Calypso! Oh. It's you Vivek. (Damn, that boy is dark!)"

Now to add insult to injury, I am also having to deal with sexual discrimination by a distant nephew who hosts a portable apps Developers' forum. Having mistakenly added an extra a- turning my name into Viveka- while posting a help request, I suffered the great indignity of having that bigoted little shit of a nephew of mine accuse me of being a blonde air-head of substantial boobage who has no business meddling in Software matters!

Where will it all end? Is there no Martin Luther King or Nelson Mandela or Anna Nicole Smith Hazara who can eradicate the twin evils of racial and sexual discrimination towards me from the heads and hearts of my close relatives?

Personally, I blame David Cameron. That boy aint right.

The lost Hylas

 Scarce was I weaned from Business School

When lost to the Naiads of the Typing Pool

Weep for me, heroes of the Argo's crew!

Weep for Hylas who was once as you.

Their Gorgon hair and Harpy nails

& fish for eyes & skin-like scales

Caused all they tease, save me, to fear them.

  My Hercules, then, was Coase's Theorem

'No mine and thine doth Beauty know

'But as Helen breeds in Allan Poe!'

Thus Chicago- my Greece and Rome

Till Nereid airs wrecked my home

Envoi-

Prince! If two Schools you rule, one Salt, one Freshwater

To a Salmacis your son, your Salamis a daughter

Dr. Mukhtaran Mai- the hopeful face of the female agrarian subatern

Some years ago I read about Dr. Mukhtaran Mai- a girl gang raped on orders of the village council because her little brother was seen playing with a girl from a higher caste and judiciously sodomised for this crime. When his sister tried to intercede she too was raped and then expected to commit suicide. Recently some of her alleged assailants have been acquitted by the Supreme Court. I find this very shocking especially after reading this article by a Western female journalist who investigated the matter- which tells us that the boy was not sodomised, the girl's family had more land and were better connected than that of the man her relatives forced her to 'marry'- though this was a sham marriage- the local custom being to resolve vendettas by handing over a daughter for rape to keep the peace . Dr. Mukhtaran Mai never complained to the police. She was dragged into the matter by a local Imam and put her thumbprint to a f.i.r of whose contents she, being illiterate at the time, remained ignorant.( her Doctorate is from Canada, pro honoris causa).

I think the most shocking aspect of this flagrantly Western woman's article is the allegation that no little boy was sodomized in the cane fields of South Punjab. This is an insult as bad as Obama's raid upon Abbotabad!  Army should take action.
(Not that this exculpates David Cameron. That boy aint right.)

standing upon the shoulders of giants

'In the battle of the books, the internecine quarrel between the ancients and moderns, the one verity whose victory abides is that, as the dwarfish John of Salisbury divinely said, if the midget sees farther 'tis from standing upon a giant's shoulders- but facing the other way and so vigorously pissing in the latter's Cyclopean eye that though a Kant is but the wreck of a Rawls and Plato the merest dregs of a Popper, a drunken Hermeneutics yet ever offer its votaries what disciplined Philosophy wont- videlicet a lifted horizon.'
Rev. Patti Obaweyo Golem

Spivak, Guha and reading Singur as the trajectory of the sodomised subaltern

Often considered the Prolegomenon to a non-Transcendental Critique of Post Colonial Reason, the celestial invagination of Queer Theory by its own apotheosis as Singur begs the foundational problematic of the trajectory of the ex ante sodomised subaltern's contingent heriot liability as boustrephodonic epistemic praxis masquerading as scription- especially the script for 'Cougar Town' which, as I started to tell you in my my last post,  is based on the real-life shenanigans of elderly Mamiyars back in T.Nagar during the early 70's, except you then went and said, enna galatta? everybody knowing already pa! which is why I'm now trying to sex things up a bit by mentioning Ranajit Guha- reigning star of Vienna's Gurtel Road Red Light district (nobody told him Red Light didn't mean Communist Illumination)- and gaining a new audience for my anecdote by linking it to Post Colonial theory.
You what? No I didn't know Homi fucking Bhaba already done a book about it.
Fuck you very very much!
Personally, I blame David Cameron.
That boy aint right.