Things

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All I did was send a profile pic of a witch sitting in a cauldron!
And to think they were perfectly happy when I sent this description of me and my family:

Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.

    So sang a little Clod of Clay,
    Trodden with the cattle's feet:
    But a pebble of the brook,
    Warbled out these metres meet.

Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to Its delight:
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.

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In other news, there was a North Indian semi-classical music performance in college today, by this Bong lecturer from Oxford. She sang ghazals and bhajans and folk songs. One of the ghazals she sang (why God why?) was “Chitthi Aayi Hai” (it does not seem to be a ghazal at all to me. Have they redefined what a ghazal is?) She pronounced the words wrong, went superfast, and informed the gora audience that this was a ghazal about a lover waiting for a letter from his beloved: a letter which does not come. I wonder if she pulled the wool over the unsuspecting Oxford Univ’s eyes to complete her PhD the same way!


Anyways, mail from watan would probably read like this for me:

Oopar mera naam likha hai
(Andar C+ prograam likha hai)
O pardes ko jaane waaley
Paisa vyarth bahaane waaley
Saat samundar paar gaya tu
Le kar bada udhaar gaya tu
Aaja umr bahut hai chhoti
Blogging se nahin milti roti


She also sang a bhajan that, according to her, went like this:
Main to ho gayi tera Shyam
Maine ratt liya Raadha naam

Considering that I had just come out of a butch-femme-lesbian-couple-in-cinema lecture, I found it quite pertinent. I somehow think she meant:
Main to ho gayi teri Shyam
Maine rakh liya Raadha naam

I should stop being nitpicky about words. Probably that’s why I don’t get chitthis from my beloved.

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