Saturday, July 30, 2016

Indian English Hot Noon in Malabar



Kamala Das is a well known female writer in India. She writes in English as well as in Malayalam which is her mother-tongue. 'A Hot Noon in Malabar' is one of her poems that she wrote when she was reminiscing her memories back in Kerala. She compares Kolkata (where she is presently residing) to her hometown. In this poem, she describes minute observations about her hometown.
This poem mainly revolves around the theme of unfulfilled desires. She accepts the wilderness of her hometown and admires it.

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

The Cotter's Saturday Night by Robert Burns



Robert Burns (January 25, 1759 – July 21, 1796) (also known as Rabbie Burns, Scotland's favourite son, the Ploughman Poet, Robden of Solway Firth, the Bard of Ayrshire and in Scotland as The Bard)was a Scottish poet and lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide. He is the best known of the poets who have written in the Scots language, although much of his writing is also in English and a light Scots dialect, accessible to an audience beyond Scotland. He also wrote in standard English, and in these his political or civil commentary is often at its bluntest.

He is regarded as a pioneer of the Romantic movement, and after his death he became a great source of inspiration to the founders of both liberalism and socialism, and a cultural icon in Scotland and among the Scottish Diaspora around the world. Celebration of his life and work became almost a national charismatic cult during the 19th and 20th centuries, and his influence has long been strong on Scottish literature. In 2009 he was chosen as the greatest Scot by the Scottish public in a vote run by Scottish television channel STV.

As well as making original compositions, Burns also collected folk songs from across Scotland, often revising or adapting them. His poem (and song) "Auld Lang Syne" is often sung at Hogmanay (the last day of the year), and "Scots Wha Hae" served for a long time as an unofficial national anthem of the country. Other poems and songs of Burns that remain well known across the world today include "A Red, Red Rose"; "A Man's A Man for A' That"; "To a Louse"; "To a Mouse"; "The Battle of Sherramuir"; "Tam o' Shanter"; and "Ae Fond Kiss".

Thursday, July 14, 2016

The Westminster Alice by Saki Alice and the Liberal Party



ALICE AND THE LIBERAL PARTY
by
Hector H Munro (“Saki”)
Quite a number of them were going past, and the noise was considerable, but they were marching in sixes and sevens and didn’t seem to be guided by any fixed word of command, so that the effect was not so imposing as it might have been. Some of them, Alice noticed, had the letters “I L” embroidered on their tunics and headpieces and other conspicuous places (“I wonder”, she thought, “if it’s marked on their underclothing as well”); others simply had a big “L”, and others again were branded with a little “e”. They got dreadfully in each other’s way, and were always falling over one another in little heaps, while many of the mounted ones did not seem at all sure of their seats. “They won’t go very far if they don’t fall into better order”, thought Alice, and she was glad to find herself the next minute in a spacious hall with a large marble staircase at one end of it. The White King was sitting on one of the steps, looking rather anxious and just a little uncomfortable under his heavy crown, which needed a good deal of balancing to keep it in its place.
“Did you happen to meet any fighting men?” he asked Alice.
“A great many—two or three hundred, I should think.”
“Not quite two hundred, all told”, said the King, referring to his note-book.
“Told what?” asked Alice.
“Well, they haven’t been told anything, exactly—yet. The fact is”, the King went on nervously, “we’re rather in want of a messenger just now. I don’t know how it is, there are two or three of them about, but lately they have always been either out of reach or else out of touch. You don’t happen to have passed anyone coming from the direction of Berkeley Square?” he asked eagerly.
Alice shook her head.
“There’s the Primrose Courier, for instance”, the King continued reflectively, “the most reliable Messenger we have; he understands all about Open Doors and Linked Hands and all that sort of thing, and he’s quite as useful at home. But he frightens some of them nearly out of their wits by his Imperial Anglo-Saxon attitudes. I wouldn’t mind his skipping about so if he’d only come back when he’s wanted.”
“And haven’t you got any one else to carry your messages?” asked Alice sympathetically.
“There’s the Unkhaki Messenger”, said the King, consulting his pocket-book.
“I beg your pardon”, said Alice.
“You know what Khaki means, I suppose?”
“It’s a sort of colour”, said Alice promptly; “something like dust.”
“Exactly”, said the King; “thou dost—he doesn’t. That’s why he’s called the Unkhaki Messenger.”
Alice gave it up.
“Such a dear, obliging creature”, the King went on, “but so dreadfully unpunctual. He’s always half a century in front of his times or half a century behind them, and that puts one out so.”
Alice agreed that it would make a difference.
“It’s helped to put us out quite six years already”, the King went on plaintively; “but you can’t cure him of it. You see he will wander about in byways and deserts, hunting for Lost Causes, and whenever he comes across a stream he always wades against the current. All that takes him out of his way, you know; he’s somewhere up in the Grampian Hills by this time.”
“I see”, said Alice; “that’s what you mean by being out of touch. And the other Messenger is—”
“Out of reach”, said the King. “Precisely.”
“Then it follows—” said Alice.
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘it’”, interrupted the King sulkily. “No one follows. That is why we stick in the same place. DONT!” he suddenly screamed, jumping up and down in his agitation. “Don’t do it, I say.”
“Do what?” asked Alice, in some alarm.
“Give advice. I know you’re going to. They’ve all been doing it for the last six weeks. I assure you the letters I get—”
“I wasn’t going to give you advice”, said Alice indignantly, “and as to letters, you’ve got too much alphabet as it is.”
“Why, you’re doing it now”, said the King angrily. “Good-bye.”
As Alice took the hint and walked away towards the door she heard him calling after her in a kinder tone: “If you should meet any one coming from the direction of Berkeley Square—”