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Showing posts from December, 2015

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The Essential Kerouac

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A collection of Jack Kerouac’s works of fiction including On the Road and The Dharma Bums plus his 30 Beliefs and Techniques For Writing Modern Prose

It has been a Beat Sunday! In the morning, I got Allen Ginsberg’s America translated in Meiteilon; and now we have Jack Kerouac, with ten of his most famous works in fiction, and a list of other works plus his 30 Beliefs and Techniques For Writing Modern Prose

















Keywords     Jack Kerouac, Beat Generation, William S Burroughs, Fiction, Novels, Novellas, The Sea Is My Brother (1942), The Town and the City (1950), On the Road (1957), The Subterraneans (1958), The Dharma Bums (1958), Doctor Sax (1959), Visions of Cody (1960), Big Sur (1962), Desolation Angels (1965), Satori in Paris (1966), modern prose, techniques, writing

More fiction from Kerouac   And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks (1945/2008; with William S. Burroughs), Maggie Cassidy (1959), Tristessa (1960), Book of Dreams (1960), Visions of Gerard (1963), Vanity of Duluoz (1968), …

ginsberg-gi amerika

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a translation









ps

a translation of allen ginsberg’samerica in meiteilon
english text source:  allen ginsberg selected poems 1947–1995
publisher: penguin (modern classics) first ed. 1996 republished 2001

allen ginsberg’s image: edited from an original image (taken in 1979) uploaded by Materialscientist on wikimedia commons


—concluded.

Of, On and From the Dude: Top 5 Retro Design

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A retro design project inspired by the cult classic and the Hollywood neo-noir crime comedy flick, The Big Lebowski (1998), which featured Jeff Bridges as Jeffrey ‘The Dude’ Lebowski







Of the Break Dancers, Cross Dressers, Drunkards, Exhibitionists, Shy Donors, Rose-givers and the Clowns

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Impressions from a Music Concert in the Imphal Valley One November Night


Picture a music concert. Blaring speakers, a noisy audience, emcees in their finest evening wears, clinking-clanking musical instruments and of course, the stars in their larger-than-life images—exposed judiciously to the teeming crowd—are some of the obvious spectacles that would as well delight our visual-auditory senses. If you are in Imphal, add to this extravaganza in concerts a ubiquitous group of people, who are as similar as a cup of red tea to a plate of evening delicacies. This special crop of crowd is more visible in the so-called Hindustani concerts.

Why are they so ‘remarkable’? The answer seems to be unanimous—their antics. Sometimes they are funny but most of the time, they would themselves be turned off if we place a big mirror around the front part of a stage—simply because, they would then see their own clownish qualities. In rock concerts, the condition is no different as it is elsewhere in oth…

Head On!

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A collection of Manipuri tribal architectural façade from an exhibition at the annual Sangai Festival, which was recently held from 21-30 Nov 2015 in Imphal

When you realize how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky.
—BUDDHA









Similar Heads:

Headmasters in HalftonesThe Head Act


The Rebel’s Recitation

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The Rebel 1.0
Introduction

All’s not fair in life. How could someone know that s/he was going to be born in a trouble-torn land, where revolution is equated with extortion and morality is measured by the warmness of used condoms found during raids by vigilante groups in seedy food stalls? However, it is the same land which makes a rebel who s/he is.

A rebel is a product of the contemporary dark ages: an era when robbery determines your status—the more you loot the more you gain respect in a deeply fragmented society. The rebel appears in the era of listlessness when the meaning of life is defined only during chronic social unrest. The rebel appears in the era of insanity. The rebel appears in the era of gloom and doom. The rebel believes in defiance not denial. The rebel defies not for the sake of defiance but because s/he believes the possibilities are inherent in this world to make life fairer for s/he believes as well that it is well within reach. The rebel is no Che Guevara. The r…

Zero Gravity Haiku

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Of aeroplane, airport and flying 




What I intended
It's the home in the valley,
Now I'm nowhere


You fly, you don’t soar
No matter how high you are;
Addiction mishap


With nothing to do,
Look at the air hostesses;
Dolls and plastic smile


The impending home
Thousands of dreams and desires
But fucked with no plan


Gladly I go home
Or I leave home listlessly,
The to-and-fro blues


The girl up the aisle,
She looks gorgeous from behind
Forosa, from front


Required: Tongue cleaners,
Four cabin crews have fainted
Make up overdosed


The half open eyes
Sleepy ride to the airport,
But the home’s all up


Familiar beds
The familiar faces
Fuckedup folks and fears


Glide through the cotton
White and off-white clouds;
Nature’s candy floss


Two hours left for home
The one-hour delayed flight;
Time’s always a bitch


Land at Guwahati
Beware of rhinoceros
The Ahoms and Bongs


Two haiku away
The impatient airport waits;
Full bladder, pumped up


What you are is here
High above hills and houses
—The human ego


Im…

1/3 15 Days of Fiction: The Minimal Stream of Consciousness

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A collection of 15 micro-stories of nearly 100 words, which I scribbled one story a day during Nov–Dec 2015; inspired by Susannah Breslin’s 30 Days of Fiction http://susannahbreslin.net/blog/

Contents
1/3
ONE: Of Elimination and Correction
TWO: Life’s Little Ironies
THREE: The Most Unwanted Orgasm
FOUR: History and Posterity
FIVE: The Professionals Inc

2/3 15 Days of Fiction: The Minimal Stream of Consciousness
3/3 15 Days of Fiction: The Minimal Stream of Consciousness



ONE
Of Elimination and Correction

At the door the score of men and women shouted at the boy who looked no more than fifteen. He was visibly shaken by the turn of events that he might never have imagined before. Some of them started throwing punches, twice to thrice the number of glaring eyes around that courthouse entrance. A lady with kongkwa-stained lips and standing by, she sighed the people were behaving more like a criminal. Earlier the court acquitted the gobsmacked boy but ordered to send him in a correctional hous…

2/3 15 Days of Fiction: The Minimal Stream of Consciousness

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A collection of 15 micro-stories of nearly 100 words, which I scribbled one story a day during Nov–Dec 2015; inspired by Susannah Breslin’s 30 Days of Fiction http://susannahbreslin.net/blog/

Contents

2/3
SIX: The First Fix Is the Deepest
SEVEN: The Firstest with the Mostest
EIGHT: Mission Unaccomplished
NINE: The Boy Who Became a Bottle
TEN: Of Observers and the Observed

1/3 15 Days of Fiction: The Minimal Stream of Consciousness
3/3 15 Days of Fiction: The Minimal Stream of Consciousness



SIX
The First Fix Is the Deepest

Mr Husband cannot afford to get up alone—it was as always killing. When Mrs Wife got up, he only wished the stuff should not be diluted like the previous day. Mr Husband had tea and a cigarette; Mrs Wife had tea and chewing tobaccos. Mr Husband and Mrs Wife left home for the ghetto. Mr Husband loitered around the sinus-friendly alleys while Mrs Wife went for her first ‘go’ inside a shack that reeks of urine. Fifteen minutes later, Mrs Wife appeared to Mr Husband’s delig…

3/3 15 Days of Fiction: The Minimal Stream of Consciousness

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A collection of 15 micro-stories of nearly 100 words, which I scribbled one story a day during Nov–Dec 2015; inspired by Susannah Breslin’s 30 Days of Fiction http://susannahbreslin.net/blog/

Contents
3/3
ELEVEN: A Zero-Sum Name
TWELVE: The Small Bachelor with Big Money
THIRTEEN: Guerrilla Blues
FOURTEEN: Artificial Reality
FIFTEEN: Sale

Series:1/3 15 Days of Fiction: The Minimal Stream of Consciousness2/3 15 Days of Fiction: The Minimal Stream of Consciousness



ELEVEN
A Zero-Sum Name 

The girl said, ‘Nothing is strange in this world if people can name a hill as Taumatawhakatangihangaoauauotameteaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu.’ The boy said, ‘Nothing’s really strange but how do you explain Los Angeles’s full name? El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reina de los Angeles de Porciuncula? It is even strange how they can tell that its abbreviated form, LA, is 3.63% of the original full name!’ The girl said, ‘I take back my word. Who in the God’s ass can name a place as Thinun…

From Mandalay to Manipur

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Impressions from a speech by a Burmese Manipuri who was recently in Imphal as a part of the special contingent for the annual Sangai and Imphal Literature festivals in the valley



It was a typical December afternoon two weeks ago. You can get away with a light jacket but not so in the evening when the mercury plummets to around 3–4 degrees from 20 or so.

I had been looking forward to the annual Imphal Literature Festival, which was scheduled from 4–7 December 2015 and was organised by the Manipuri literary group, Sathoulup. I consider myself lucky to get a chance to attend such a literary fest—on that day it was the opening ceremony—during my yearly winter vacation at home. Such an opportunity, I love to believe, somehow make up for the all the festivities that I miss while I am away.    

The Imphal Literature Festival commenced with short speeches by representative s from the Manipuri literary communities in Bangladesh and Burma. They shared about the living condition of the Manipuris…