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.



I came to the departure terminal with my wife and kid and sat down beside gate 28. All of a sudden, a man sitting beside me shouted: ‘hello Anand and Susan’. I became glum, sullen and moody and ruminative. There was an attractive bar beside the lounge called ‘Heaven’s Paradise’. I nourished the thoughts of having some booze. But then my thoughts sank. I could be straightaway taken to the psychiatric hospital. The bastard in the lounge was my psychiatrist. I put my tongue on my lips and licked in vain. What an obscene coincidence is this?


The sky
Is Picasso’s Brush…
Gleaming gold and pink…
I watch eclipsed in a dream…
Conversing silently about
Life’s journey through art….
The fading sun is
Like Chopin’s rendition…
The clouds look
Like surreal scratches ….
Van Gogh paints
The sky in
Pulchritude ….
Dusk is a dream
Of the heart…
A lover’s paradise
To clasp hands…
Time moves like
An echo of music…
The clouds have broken into
Streams of colors ….
Night is set in
Like a magician’s
Black wand.


You string of pearls,
Let me cover you
With melt kisses
Of a flower…
An embrace is a
Guitar playing
Let’s share the
Altar of love
And make
Sweet passion.
Let me melt in
Your lake
And flow you to
Petals of ecstasy.