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…