Posted in Poetry


Yellow ornament,
You dance in the
Air like a danseuse;
You are music of
Earthly flight;
There now you
Perch on a branch
And rest like a
Celestial angel;
Your form makes me
Ponder about you
Like thoughtful music…
You are gliding again,
Defying gravity
Like poetic echoes…
You defy the wind
Like a cosmic preacher;
Now you are silent;
I gaze at you, you Jewel,
You still life.

Posted in Hermeneutic, Interpretation, Literary Analysis, Literary Theory, Literature

Portrayal of Women in Bataille’s Blue at Noon

Blue at Noon by Georges Bataille is a fascinating avant garde novel. In this essay I would like to deconstruct the way in which women are portrayed. Most of the Women except his wife and Desire are sluts. The prominent whores featured in his novel are dirty (Dorothea) and Xenia. The entanglements of the protagonist with these women are symptomatically pathological. The protagonist betrays devastating hidden oedipal fantasies. The relationships with these women are more intricate and denser than remuneration for occupying the pleasures of the bed. The protagonist takes great pleasure in the disgusting and the revolting. For example: Dirty is drunk and puking and at the same time she exposes herself nude. Sometimes the protagonist becomes an archetypal feminine. For example he sobs: when he gets a letter from his wife. All his relationships with sluts are erotic a melancholia, a fantasy of longing which ceases to be fulfilled. He portrays whores as tender, loving oedipal objects on which he can gratify his emptiness, his angst. The novel takes places in three places, England, France and Spain. In France he encounters Xenia. He is very ill at that time. Xenia though a whore goes to a great extent of nursing him back. The amazing thing is that he does not feel grateful but treats her with intense repulsion. In Spain he encounters Desire. The Spanish revolution is going on there and she has intense communist views. Though he becomes close to Desire, he treats her like a wretch. He has no interest in her intellectual proclivities. There are no scenes in the novel which are sexually graphic. Drunkenness, puking and nudeness become orgies for the mind of the protagonist. Though the novel is experimental, the narrative is straight forward and goes on from the beginning to the end. The protagonist is an erotic Sisyphus who is tormented by the weight of his sexual entanglements and finds release of his emotion through sheer repugnance. The pleasure of the bed has become a narcotic stone which is rolled down by him in mental stupor. The protagonist is always in state of psychological fornication. As a work of Art he is Picasso’s bull who is limpid and strangulated by his own emotions. The author creates whores who are fond of him. The creation represents a maternal, oedipal reaching out. Is it a kind of oedipal narcissism that the author suffers from? There is no political consciousness for the protagonist. He maintains a stormy silence when Desire discusses ideas about communism. The creation of the psychology for the whores in his novel is a dystopian archetype. The women are his ideal and yet they are repugnant to him. Eroticism for the narrator is one of morbid loathing and ironically a state of ecstatic pleasure. I as a reader, I am totally ignorant how whores interact or behave. Of course I have had my chances but I have failed to follow upon them. Yes in the end, I feel whores are humane and can have genuine feelings.

Posted in Culture


A (Mallu) is satirized name for a Malayali, a native of God’s Own Country, Kerala. Mallus are culturally and notoriously famous for PARA. A PARA is a cultural symptom where the speaker indulges in harmful gossip and demeans the person who is spoken about. For example a lady in the postal department might gossip to the wife of her colleague that he is flirting and sleeping with an office mate. Most Mallus are para-maniacs. Most middle class mallus love to show off their ostentation. Gold is a fascination and a much desired cultural artifact by most Mallus. When Mallus get their daughters married off, the deck them gold thick as those chains adorned by a ferocious Rottweiler. Pentecostal Mallus don’t wear gold but still they go to all extent to make their marriages posh. They hire posh cars, Audis, Mercs and Jaguars to transport the bride and groom. Most Mallus flock to the shores of the Middle East or America or Canada to become rich. A curious phenomenon is that they don’t adapt to the culture even though they get citizenship. They carry their churches, temples and mosques with them. But the new generation Mallus are different. Some new generation Mallus are Jesus Freaks. They are so horrendous, culturally intolerant of the other. The New Generation Mallus are changing and are adapting to the zeitgeist.

Posted in Drabble, Flash Fiction

Fun at the LOO

Mr. Sharma is peeing. His is shriveled. The skin is fully covered and is dangling from his as a mango peel. Mr. Vikrant too has a skin enclosed thing. His to my surprise is fully erect. Mr. Ahamad’s thing is circumcised. One can see the black skin. He’s is a hairy bastard. Mr. John Crusade is on tour. He too is micturating. It’s all white. One can glimpse the circumcised foreskin. He is clean shaved. I cackle like an ugly witch.

Posted in Drabble, Flash Fiction

Ornamental Fish

It’s pulchritude of blue. I gaze it. It’s quiet now. Its fins are moving. Out of stealthy glee I put my finger on the jar, just at the place where it’s resting. It trembles with fright and quickly swims away to a higher depth. I repeat my action and enjoy the sadism of it, darting to and fro. Yes, I am a harmless sadist.

Posted in Travelogue

Monsoon Kerala


Kerala a favorite tourist hot-spot is also known as God’s Own Country is one of the fifty destinations to be visited as per National Geography. Kerala is famous for its monsoon or rainy season. The high pressure surrounding the Arabian Sea flings the South Western monsoon on to the shores of Kerala. This is called as the burst of the monsoon. The monsoon begins in June when schools start. It’s an angelic sight to see the children rushing to schools, wearing raincoats or enveloped by umbrellas. Rain water forms rills and flows through the roads like echoes of poetry. Children float paper boats in the water. Cruising through the backwaters of Kerala, it’s a sight to see paddy fields being bathed by water. A water permeated bird, thoroughly drenched, stands on the branch as music, so beautifully enjoying the feeling of falling rain. If one walks on the road, one can see a sea of umbrellas. Rivers overflow their music and flood the roads. I welcome the readers to visit Kerala during the monsoon.


Posted in Hermeneutic, Interpretation

A Hermeneutic of Poe’s Tell Tale Heart

I happened to read the story since I had to teach it to eight graders. The story belongs to the genre of the Gothic Vintage. The protagonist of the story becomes obsessed with the killing of an old man. The whole story revolves around his pathological mania for killing. The reason for killing is psycho-analytically revealed in the story. The old man has an eye that resembles that of a vulture. The evil eye is haunting the protagonist. The wealth or possessions of the man like Gold does not interest the protagonist. He visits the old man’s house several times in the night and goes through the ecstasy of the thought of butchery. And finally one night he accomplishes the mission. He decapitates the body and buries it in the wooden planks that make the floor of the house. Then Poe brings in the cops who come to house on the pretext of having heard a shriek. The protagonist at first manages to maintain his composure but in the end looses it and spills the beans to the cops that he has liquidated the old man. It’s true that Poe has been characterized as a mad genius and as a tormented artist. The protagonist is suffering from narcissistic, psychotic melancholia. The narcissism is an obsession directed with quirk of violence that shifts the mind from reason to that of passion. The protagonist is going through an intense psychotic phase of psychosis where he is not able to distinguish murder as something diabolic and goes against the Super Ego, the laws of the society. Melancholia is pining for an object that cannot be obtained. Here it becomes a phantasmagoria, the vulture-eye of the old man. The psychotic character is unable to distinguish between fiction and reality. He does not want to take responsibility of the crime and willingly surrenders himself to the police. The psychological build up of psychotic anxiety is a super rendition of art.

Posted in Poetry


The night’s
Cold without you…
I lie as frozen meat
On a bed of thorns…
We have to meet again
And blend into a sea
Of erotic music…
Our bodies like
Blossomed flowers
Have opened all
Carnal ecstasies …
My lips tremble
With sensual adoration…
My body quivers
With passionate echoes…
We have to meet and
Mate into musical symphonies.

Posted in Poetry


The paunch of God
Is opening— and poetry
Falling on the earth
Is bathing it as a
Sensual music …
I listen to the
Rhythm of rain—
It’s a wet sonata—
A soothing consonance
Of myriad whispers …
Rain touching the earth
Resembles buttons twinkling….
Now it has subsided
Like a baby going to sleep.