first: Spell check. second: Skeptical? ( I prefer UK English)Why? When a ' sweet young thing' snuggles against you and giggles, you should be utterly disillusioned and disenchanted to be skeptical and to scrutinize similes. All you should do is to kiss - and breath in deep, the smell of love and youth... Let disillusions and cynicism come later.Do not give in to morbidity when you are young. Later, you will have ample time for that.
perfect! some similes cannot be improved upon. but similes always fall short of the real too. am i right? you have touched a kind of preciseness in this poem.
Venu Chettan: “But similes always fall short of the real.” Yes, Venu Chettan. Is it possible to have ‘conch-like neck’? asks the sceptic for that is something he’s has been hearing ad nauseam. And when he gets an opportunity he scrutinizes its veracity. How often one hears a sceptic utters, in total admiration, “perfect”.
I wonder whether I should’ve called it ‘The Death of a Sceptic’ instead of ‘The Perfect Simile’.
the sceptic is destined to die. when he confronts reality, he gets to know of the things beyond. conch-like neck, cherry-sweet lips, tresses like rolling clouds of the monsoon...these are all real, as you seem to be beginning to understand now. you seem to be in love!
everything. in a dictatorship it may work, not in a democracy. this moustache is Hitler-like (although his was of a different nervous quiver over the lips).
12 comments:
first: Spell check.
second: Skeptical? ( I prefer UK English)Why? When a ' sweet young thing' snuggles against you and giggles, you should be utterly disillusioned and disenchanted to be skeptical and to scrutinize similes. All you should do is to kiss - and breath in deep, the smell of love and youth... Let disillusions and cynicism come later.Do not give in to morbidity when you are young. Later, you will have ample time for that.
Balan Sir: Thanks a lot for pointing it out. That was a gross error from my part.
perfect!
some similes cannot be improved upon. but similes always fall short of the real too. am i right?
you have touched a kind of preciseness in this poem.
i like it. 'the perfect' comes with a bang. :)
Venu Chettan: “But similes always fall short of the real.” Yes, Venu Chettan. Is it possible to have ‘conch-like neck’? asks the sceptic for that is something he’s has been hearing ad nauseam. And when he gets an opportunity he scrutinizes its veracity. How often one hears a sceptic utters, in total admiration, “perfect”.
I wonder whether I should’ve called it ‘The Death of a Sceptic’ instead of ‘The Perfect Simile’.
Sumi: Thank you very much.
the sceptic is destined to die. when he confronts reality, he gets to know of the things beyond.
conch-like neck, cherry-sweet lips, tresses like rolling clouds of the monsoon...these are all real, as you seem to be beginning to understand now.
you seem to be in love!
Ha ha ha...love? No, no Venu Chettan, not at all.
why do you blush?
Blush? I refute it as a baseless allegation. Do I stand a chance to make it big in politics?
don't be so vehement. let me see your face. no, i don't think you stand a chance in politics with that queer smudge of a moustache below your lips.
Ha ha ha... what does a "queer smudge of a moustache" got to do with politics?
everything. in a dictatorship it may work, not in a democracy. this moustache is Hitler-like (although his was of a different nervous quiver over the lips).
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