So bitter, almost petulant
They are unshed
Painful and blunt
They are unsaid
Everything is unread
Memories, memories and a mirage
Why are you dead?
I bunked most of the day to go to school for DPS Pantheon’s Poesia today. Most of the students recited modern poetry. We had Walter Scott, Neruda, Auden, Ezekiel, Amrita Pritam Singh, Yeats and a few others. Even so, I was disappointed that nobody chose Eliot, Plath and Tagore. I was asked to recite something at the end moment. I did. Prufrock.
I can’t believe how amazing my school is. We have the complete works of JD Salinger in our junior library. I saw them with my own eyes. I have been wanting to read his short stories for a long time. I read a couple today. I also got a 100 page book photocopied. Selected poems of Eliot. I just had to.
I don’t know why I wrote this poem. It was written during the MP lecture today. I was too tired to continue my reading.
The literary society had a group discussion yesterday. It was fun.
I have been reading RK Narayan-The painter of signs and the bachelor of arts. I delight in his simplicity. His subtlety. Also, I read the worst book ever written during the weekend. I won’t waste your time by telling you about it.