Sept. 25th 2017

The day was an ordinary cabbage. I was seriously reprimanded by my bloody wife for skipping classes. Actually I had a Skype interview with the Principal of Australian International School in Dakha in Bangladesh. The interview turned out well. I am so happy if I get the job as I can get away from my nagging and dominating mother and wife. I hate my dead father for creating a difficult situation in my life. If I drink, my wife threatens me that she will take me to a psychiatric asylum. I hate her the bloody bitch. The bitch is a bloody fucking Pentecost. Had a pleasant letter from my sweetheart from Texas. She wants me to go and sell her house in Malaysia and is willing to come down and settle with me in India. Sometimes I wonder what is consciousness. Does the Universe live to satisfy our aspirations? Time internalized lives as an epic as a streams of consciousness. Will life become a fairy tale so that I can divorce my wife and happily settle down with my sweetheart. Can I spent the rest of my life, retired and in peace and devote my whole self to writing. I am tired of teaching school kids the basics of English. My whole knowledge having read into literary and cultural theory seems to be going down in the drain. I watched the evening sunset meditatively. The sky was a picture of music. Night settled down as a witch’s robe.


My mind’s
Is travelling
Through hazy
My higher self
Bequeaths a
A metaphor to live
Words form
The poetry
Of music ….
Letters become
Shadows of eclipses…
Time is an artist’s brush,
Now gently finished
To an abstract art…

Sept. 24th 2017

Day woke up late as a lazy morning. All had gone to church and I was alone. I wonder why girl friend is not whatsapping me? I am wondering of painting of words and music of letters. Mynahs a whole bunch were twittering on trees. I wonder why only a very few of my books are sold in Bookrix. I am thinking of quitting smoking. It’s giving me an erectile dysfunction. I need to go to Malaysia to sell my girl friend’s house. I badly need some funds to go. I was not able to sleep well. The sleeping pills are not working. I think they have become adjusted to my body. I feel so disappointed in not winning the bumper lottery. I am worried about how I will finance my daughter’s medical school. I am tired of working in schools for a measly sum of money. I want to travel and write books. Sometimes, I wonder what is my self? I have tried following Nietzsche’s God is Dead philosophy and Camus nihilism. But then I waver back to Christian faith. I am stuck in the cauldron of conflicting worldviews. To live and write in art is a passion. I am forced to remain anonymous on the web as conservative parents do not like my writing. I have been removed my photos from my blog sites. I have also deactivated my Facebook. I am always exploring new ways of writing. What is avant-garde postmodernist writing? Pastiche, extreme irony, multiple selves’ magical realism and all that. I really wonder if my writer self has emerged. I have published most of my books free. I am not interested in money. All I would like is to be read. I had enough of work and I want to live a retired life of writing. Yes, in one sense, life is absurd, it is meaningless. Even though God is Dead one can’t become the Ubermensch.


Painted colors…
The canvas is
A rich texture
Of music…
There gleams gold,
Like a bride’s ornament…
Purple is settling in
Like a mystic
Seer’s robe…
Pink’s a sculpture,
An abstract of
Picturesque doodles…
Evening’s is poetry
Of the sky….
Now fading into
A dark dream.

Sept. 23rd 2017

The day was an ordinary day. Took English classes for 6th, 7th and 8th graders. The choice of topics are pretty boring. I’m not able to discuss my ideas of postmodernism and literary theory with kids. The stuff that I read is kept in my mind. I felt so disappointed when the lottery results came and to my consternation, I did not win even a single prize. Had to meet an anxious parent whose kid had got low grades. I boosted his morale saying that I will work hard with the kid. I thought of reading a book but felt too tired to do it. In the afternoon had lunch at a local restaurant which consisted of Barottas and beef curry. Barottas are made with flour. I had to delete a lot of unwanted mails in yahoo. Got a letter from my girl friend in Texas who is Malay. She can’t go to Malaysia for political reasons. She asked me whether I can go on her behalf and sell her house there and then she will join me in India. I don’t have the funds to go to Malaysia. I have taken a lottery ticket today and I hope to win a prize so that I can go to Malaysia. The sky bloomed in impressionism in the evening. Watching the sunset was like making love to a woman. Now it’s dark and I am sitting on my computer typing. I seriously wonder where the world is heading to. There is a philosophical and spiritual bankruptcy in the world. My Whatsapp girl friend is not responding to my messages. Got a call from Australian International school in Dakha and they told me that I was a fitting candidate for teaching English. They told me to add their contact in Skype. After that there was no follow up. I work for a menial salary in my mother’s school. I want to get away from my wife’s bossy temperament. I find it difficult to make both ends meet.

World Views on Art

Art through the centuries acquired different forms and conceptions. First of all there was naturalism, then developed romanticism, and then there was impressionism, followed by cubism, which was followed by surrealism and finally trends moved on to postmodern art. Here I would like to provide my understanding on various schools of art.
Naturalism proceeded out of mimesis. The aim of art was to mimic nature. A classic example of mimetic art would Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. Mona Lisa lives through the ages for its enigmatic style. Another example would be the Last Supper by Da Vinci. Art became permeated heavily with religious motifs. What has naturalism contributed to the world? An answer would be representation of a mimetic ethos. There is very little to interpret in naturalistic art but we can admire its imitation of nature. I would also like to take Michelangelo’s sculpture of David. What would a postmodern interpretation take? It would perhaps couch it as being gay.
Another style of art that developed during the 18th century was romanticism. What is romanticism? The poet Wordsworth defined romanticism as the spontaneous overflow of feelings. Romanticism captured feelings on to the canvas. The canvas became permeated in rich colors of the baroque. Romantic painting is fanciful and ornamental. When we think of romanticism in the postmodern age we encounter a catharsis with the past. Goya’s exhibit: Saturn devouring his son can be taken as a classic example. The grotesque Saturn is portrayed as an admirable beauty. Romantic painters are endowed with passionate neurosis. Feelings and emotions lie with us to contemplate in ravishment.
Another school of art which developed during the beginning of the 19th century was impressionism. The great masters of impressionism are Van Gogh, Monet, and Gauguin. Impressionism is a unique style of art. Impression is marked by a wide usage of brilliant colors. Strokes were left like scars on the canvas. Impressionism was marked by a tendency of art to become modern. Van Gogh was a brilliant artist who etched out paintings in a style that marked a departure from his predecessors. When we look at Van Gogh’s starry night, we get a passion that is akin to listening of music. Similarly Gauguin’s painting: ‘where do we come from and where do we go’, highlights mythical allegories in brilliant dashes of color.
Another school of art which developed during the beginning of the 20th century was Cubism. Its master exponent was Picasso. With the advent cubism art left its mimetic modes and became the sole creation of the artist. Cubism had a tendency to portray art in abstract terms. Picasso’s La Demoiselles D’ Avignon presented harlots. Their features especially their breasts, hips and asses were made incongruous with oedipal fantasies. Another notable creation of Picasso was the Guernica. Guernica is fantastic rendition of the horrors of bombing Basque, presented in abstract terms. When we look at Guernica we become fascinated to the point of disgust. Cubism highlighted that art can be repulsive.
The next school of art which developed by the middle of the 20th century was Surrealism. My most loved surrealistic artists are Dali and Paul Delvaux. Dali’s most famous painting is the ‘persistence of memory’. Surrealism following Freudian psychoanalysis attempted to portray art with a conglomeration of reality and fantasy. In the painting, persistence of memory, we find melting clocks hanging on trees and covered by an embryo. The tree can be symbolized as a phallic construct. The melting clocks portray time as flowing with the literature of streams of consciousness. The embryo can represent the artist’s oedipal trauma. Delvaux most famous painting is the call of the night. In the ‘call of the night’ a barren land is seen with skulls. There is a nude standing on the open with luscious vegetation growing on her head. There is also a nude whose head is covered standing outside a building with a candle on her head. Delvaux is trying to portray ancient fertility rites in modernistic terms. The painting can also be interpreted as a sexual awakening. Thus surrealism attempted to portray dream with reality.
Next I would like to focus on postmodern art. Postmodern art is contemporary and tends to be a rebellion against existing artistic norms. In postmodern art normal objects are presented in unusual terms. For an example: we can take Marcel Duchamp’s inverted urinal. Postmodern art is also famous for inventing pop-art, where cartoons, comic strips and consumer products where drawn as artistic representations. Another interesting example of postmodern art is Rodin’s thinker. The thinker can be interpreted in two ways. One in a way that a person has constipation, another as an intellectual poised in thought. Postmodern art freed art from all inhibitions and pre-existing conceptions.


Sept. 21st 2017

Woke up early dreaming…I can’t recollect my dream. Today was a holiday in school so I spent my time lazing in bed till 10 AM. Wanted to read a book was too lazy. Saw a dead dog on the streets all flattened like pastry. The poor thing must have been run over. Thought of writing an essay on various forms of art, like naturalism, impressionism, cubism, surrealism and postmodernism. I have been thinking what it is to be an art of writing? How does art become writing? It’s an aesthetic, philosophical and literary problem. Nietzsche has said art occurs: when the Dionysian and the Apollonian elements merge. He has used music as a metaphor for it. The Dionysian elements comprise of rhythm, beat and ecstasy and the Apollonian elements consist of melody and harmony. How am I to find new avant garde forms? How can I find a new form for Streams of Consciousness? Joyce wrote Ulysses as an epic covering 12hrs of life in 800 pages. Can an epic be made into seconds of time? The mind is a freely floating streams of consciousness machine. While reading ancient Greek Philosophy, I became fascinated by the mystic and occult of Orphic religions. I wonder how they participated in Bacchanalian revels. Greek Gods are unethical and immoral. The ancient Greeks have revealed that all Art lies in transgression. Sodomy, fornication and adulteries are musical symphonies. Adam and Eve’s eating of the fruit was figurative as art. Got a letter from my girl friend in Texas. She was explaining how her ex. boy is abusing her physically and emotionally. I told her to take police help. I have suggested to her that she could take me to Texas or she sell her house in Malaysia and come and settle down with me in Kerala. I thought of writing poetry but could come up with no good ideas. I have a fascination for synesthetic metaphors that is metaphors which identify unlike things like sound and color. I would like to write doped. Dope now is scarcely available.

Sept 20th 2017

Had a date today at LuLu Mall in Cochin. The timing was 12PM. I started out early at 7 because the place is faraway. We met each other at the food court. On seeing her, all my erotic dreams faded away. We started talking on many things, Reincarnation, existentialism, counseling. She was very knowledgeable. I thought that she will give me her phone number but she did not. She apparently had a husband who physically and emotionally abused her. She earns her income by giving tuitions. Finally we had lunch. I had chicken byriani while she being a veg. had veg. byriani. I thought that the relationship will turn out into a sexual adventure but it was sheerly Platonic. Finally she dropped me on the bus stand with a handshake.

Sept 19th 2017

Bloody fuck …I had to deactivate my Facebook ac. The simple reason is a fuck up from irate parents who are displeased with my writing. All art lies in transgression and there are no moral codes to stimulate art. Are in writing is my passion and I am strongly influenced by the Philosophy of Avant Gardism. I receive online letters from my girl friend in Texas. She apparently suffers from an anxiety neurosis. She had a bad relationship in the past. By constant dialogue I am trying to rejuvenate her emotions. She appreciates my sensitive words and is slowly tuning to my inner soul. She is many years younger than me. I have a date tomorrow at Cochin and I am all excited. After all something is better than nothing. Was reading through Plato’s dope in the History of Western Philosophy by Bertrand Russell. Plato’s Republic though intended to be a democracy favors elitism of the upper classes. Women and Plebeians were restrained from voting. Plato’s allegory of the cave where men are imprisoned but able to see a light beyond the wall refers to the theory of forms which contrasts between appearance and reality. Beyond the appearance of things there is an ideal world of forms. Plato’s idea hints at the beginning foundations for Christianity. I admire Socrates so much for having refused all plans to escape. Why was Socrates condemned to death for corrupting the youth of the day? Socrates’ famous maxim is ‘know thy self’. I have kept many books that I want to read but lack of time jeopardizes my venture. My Whatsapp girl friend is married and comes from a conservative family. She remained incommunicado for many days. I was finally relieved when said her in-laws are at home. Once she called me to come to her home at 10:30 in the night. I misjudged the timing and became late. There goes an amorous opportunity. I hate it when kids come to me for half mark additions. Dammed, I am only human. The poem that I taught today was boring. So also was the story of a long nose.

Indore Memoir

Recently I happened to be traveling from Kerala to Indore by flight. I love airports all meshed in steel and glass… I could see flights takeoff and landing as easy as birds flying. The onward flight was smooth. It was a pleasure for me to pee in the plane. I observed how urine passed from my phallus at high altitudes. Watching the flight attendants wearing minis and stockings was a pleasurable oedipal fantasy. It’s long time since I’ve seen women wearing minis. Looking at their glamorous legs, their sensuous calves gave me a passion which burst the wings of my heart. I also thank the Indian Govt. for providing smoking zones in the airport. The burst of power while takeoff made me feel as though my body is jerking like a tornado. Soon the plane landed in Indore. I was greeted by father-in-law at the airport. The reason for going to Indore was that my father-in-law was having a pacemaker implanted in his heart. Soon the operation got over and he was quickly recovering. I watch the women of Indore with glee. Some of them wore sleeveless kurtas. They looked pretty attractive. On our return journey, the weather was turbulent. The plane was swinging to and fro like a rocking horse. I landed in the airport in the night. The driver came to receive me. I also had the fortune to taste some good Indore food, especially Rumali Rotti, (a very thin chappati made of wheat) and sumptuous mutton curry. Indore days are a grandiose memoir.