I know that my poetic skills are no where near that of my prose but writing a poem takes a lot more effort (no matter how disastrous it comes out). So the other day when i was stuck in a classroom without Shakespeare in hand, i decided to write a poem or rather a parody of a poem. Yeah, you heard that right, these days i read Shakespeare in class, ain’t that wonderful.
As it turns out, i am unable to locate my probability notes (which contains the poem 😦 ), so i guess you will have to wait a bit longer to lay your eyes upon my poem. So instead, i would like to take this opportunity to elaborate on how i met Shakespeare.
“I had also become quite trigger happy during the holidays, so much so that, i took a shot at all the offers that were thrown my way. Firstly, i decided to take a membership in the British library just because it cost only Rs.1100 per annum.Secondly i also subscribed to a magazine just because he had sent my father an application form. Both were completely unnecessary due to the presence of a “well equipped” library at my college which was, as a matter of fact pointed out by the librarian at the British Library.”
Doesn’t the above paragraph look familiar. In case it doesn’t, then you better read my earlier entries. The above excerpt has been taken from my first post which clearly states how i got in contact with British Library. This library happens to be the middle-man responsible for introducing me to Shakespeare.
Let me familiarize you with this library first. It happens to be located near Tank-Bund (not on it’s banks fortunately) which takes me about an hour to go from my college in a bus. The buses are usually jam packed with smelly humans, so much so that even the stench gets suffocated. Why do i have to put up with this ? It’s all because of my mother who feels that i don’t need my father’s car for such errands.
These buses(when empty) jump about so erratically, that at times you feel as if you are on a joy-ride in Disney land. Shedding my lousy critic’s attire, let me come back to the great Bard whose writings sometimes remind me of my own (maybe i lost my humility somewhere over the Atlantic). When i read his comedies, i feel that the joke’s on me for most of the time because i can’t make out his intended mockery. What little i do understand, i try to chew it on and on until it has nothing left to hide from me. I have to say that his language is the most beautiful this world has ever seen. (dude- how is that possible dud, you don’t even understand it)
A mockery of the present security situation in the campus and a poem, if i ever find my probability notes. My main worry is that it has no notes written in it which makes it more valuable than it would have been otherwise.