With due respect to Edward Said...

Hi all. I presumed to title my IIT creative writing entry 'Culture and Imperialism' and hope Mr. Said isn't too unhappy about it as he looks on from on high (unless i am misinformed of his demise in 2002, in which case i stand grievously, apologetically corrected).

My next post, i hope, will be the tablature to the 'Stairway to Heaven' solo, as i am trying to crack it and am at the moment of writing about halfway through. LED seems to think (i wonder if he was being facetious ) that i ought to get it by the weekend. Join me friends in paying humble obeisance to Jimmy Page!

In the meantime, i leave you with the following :

Culture and Imperialism

(Adi-dasa the ever-ambitious sadhoo
Burnt his feet walking the fire-bed through
So the next time, he ran on the coals
With hidden padding on his soles
And invented the first ever sports shoe.)

// this verse belongs to bakri. i take on from here.

So his ochre robes he did renounce
And out of the ashram did petulantly flounce
Muttering ‘neath his breath
“Thus I belie a celibate death,
Why, these imposters are naught but clowns!”

With his invention he made his way
To the bustling port city of Bombay
But was reduced to dire straits
Being an apostate to his faith
For news of his heresy had reached Thackeray

Thus it came to pass, through ubiquitous umbrage
When it came to asking for safe sea passage
To the land of the free and home of the brave
The captain considered, this answer gave,
“Errant monk! May the gods turn thy brains to cabbage”

Then did Adidasa volubly bemoan his fate
Following which, slyly hiding in a crate
Was taken aboard with none the wiser
Even saving passage-fee, the miser;
And cast eyes on Manhattan at an early date

Alas, Adi’s guttural accent impeded his way
For black-suited officers whisked him away
As onlookers milled about and cried,
“That man is first cousin to Richard Reid!”
For all they understood was “shoe” and “bomb”(ay)

In the trial court Adi was hard-pressed
As the iniquity of Islamic terrorism was stressed
Said the prosecution to the jury, “Be wise!
He is naught but bin Laden in disguise”
But the myopic judge, Adi a flagrant prostitute guessed

So he was let off, but with stern advice
To keep his hands from gentlemen’s flies
“You Oriental Geishas can’t do more wrong
Than sell your honor for a song.
Don’t you know wandering topless ain’t nice?”

“Admitted the age is one of spaghetti straps,
But that string which your torso enwraps,
The craziest haute couture doesn’t take
The liberty, such a skimpy bra to make.
Not least, exhibitionism must succeed possession, you poor sap.”

Thus the noble Adi did they basely demean.
The media clustered about, made a scene
To the fleeing monk, thus “O Demimondaine!
Flutter for our shutters”, they chanted in vain
But Adi, eluding their snares, fled to Chicago by the 11:15

There his countryman, Vivekananda he met
And to procure money, entered into a bet
“When you speak to the Congress,
You will find me there in a bikini dress”
Gagging prudery, our hero a handsome dividend did net

With which, thankfully, he bought his passage back
And returning, covered his visage with a gunny sack
When solicitous enquiries men did address,
Adi said, “Having beheld the Mother Goddess,
Wherefore earthly sights? The supreme Bliss they sorely lack

And thus, acclaimed universally, the following autumn
He retired to the forest, with disciples who sought him
And, even today, the leafy glades of Gurvayur
Resound to the sound of that entrepreneur
Deploying the sport shoe upon an errant devotee’s bottom.

:-)