Residue of a Spent Time

scout,

Is it something like this you`re after? (t, I hope you find this ``within the bounds of decency`` ;-)

Regards,
Jonathan


A Refined Hedonism

By Sylvia Plath

I remember a cool river beach and a May night full of rain held in far clouds, moonly sparks saying on the water and the close, dank, heavy wetness of green vegetation. The water was cold to my bare feet, and the mud oozed up between my toes. He ran on the sand, and I ran after him, my hair long and damp, blowing free across my mouth. I could feel the inevitable magnetic polar forces in us, and the tidal blood beat loud, loud, roaring in my ears, slowing and rhythmic. He paused then, I behind him, arms locked around the powerful ribs, fingers caressing him. To lie, with him, to lie with him, burning forgetful in the delicious animal fire. Locked first upright, thighs ground together, shuddering mouth to mouth, breast to breast, legs enmeshed, then lying full length, with the good heavy weight of body upon body, arching, undulating, blind, growing together, force fighting force: To kill? To drive into burning dark of oblivion? To lose identity? Not love, this, quite. But something else rather. A refined hedonism. Hedonism because of the blind sucking mouthing fingering quest for physical gratification. Refined because of the desire to stimulate another in return, not being quite only concerned for self alone, but mostly so. An easy end to arguments on the mouth: a warm meeting of mouths, tongues quivering, licking, tasting. An easy substitute for bad slashing with angry hating teeth and nails and voice: the curious musical tempo of hands lifting under breasts, caressing throat, shoulders, knees, thighs. And giving up to the corrosive black whirlpool of mutual necessary destruction. Once there is the first kiss, then the cycle becomes inevitable. Training, conditioning makes a hunger burn in breasts and secrete fluid in vagina, driving madly for destruction. What is it but destruction? Some mystic desire to beat to sensual annihilation — to snuff out one`s identity on the identity of the other — a mingling and mangling of identities? A death of one? Or both? A devouring and subordination? No, no. A polarization rather — a balance of two integrities, charging, electrically, one with the other, yet with centers of coolness, like stars.

From The Journals of Sylvia Plath: 1950-1962 (Dial Press, © 1982)

quite eloquent temporal:)

but despite all of your canidid and impressive endeavour[at the face value],it doesnt explain or justify the inclusion of substandard piece of writings or something which fails to make some sense and seem absurd...[nopes, aint pointing at this poem but Rehan`s article..but maybe I SHOULD write this there:)]

t-bhai #16,

PHEWWW. After reading your post I`m suffering from a bout of performance anxiety. (will my reply be as good, as lengthy, as thorough, as ``deep`` as yours). Let me recover...(breathes deeply)....

Okay here goes, you said `` sex is deliberately underplayed in our conscious human make up -- more so in our uptight desi context than in other societies -- ``

So maybe the reason why almost anything with reference to sex is published on Chowk, is that the editors of Chowk want to loosen the collars of the desi mind when it comes to this taboo topic? Maybe if we repeat the word `sex` again and again, we can open up people`s minds to it?

But I personally haven`t read an article yet which drives deep into the fears of desi society

when it comes to such matters.

``Show me a girl/woman there who has not been fondled once. (And yet when Shandana wrote candidly about that experience some folks here at Chowk reprimanded her!) Countless friends have told me each time they step out in the public there they FEEL they are being stripped of their clothes by ever-following staring eyes.``

I don`t know if this is due to the suppression of ``sex`` in Pakistani society. Don`t men of all races/nationalities engage in such behaviors?

The same thing that happened to Shandana could happen to any woman in any country where the legal system is weak, police power is weak.

Latin America and Africa for example.

``I would urge and vote for a more open examination of our sexual biases, thoughts, impulses, within the boundaries of decency.``

I couldn`t agree more, but I don`t see that happening on Chowk. All I see is anecdotal references/experiences of sex. Nothing going deep into the heart of the matter. Nothing exploring the desi mind and analyzing what makes us do what we do, and have the inhibitions that we do. Can`t someone write something meaningful about this issue instead of falling prey to this desi phenomenon of pseudo-erotica?

``As for assertion of thirty years I would like to know how you fixed that time frame. Anyways, whatever the time frame, it is never too late for a realistic desi examination of sexual mores.``

With regard to the thirty years, I had the Western sexual revolution of the 60`s and 70`s in mind. You are right, it`s never too late to examine the issue. But here, on Chowk, it seems like the issue is being skirted, not analyzed.

``As for the poem that was published elsewhere but not here: I would definitely be interested in reading it.``

I`ll email it to you after I ask my cousin for permission.

I know I missed responding to many points in your reply, but if I had replied to all, I`d have been here all night :).

take care

scout

scout #13:

WHAT’S WITH SEX AND THE DESIS?
--or--
[

Scout @13

I agree with you.

At least in literature, chowk should take the services of a person who knows about literature.

A piece might be simple and yet highly literary.

My mind sets on temporal for this, if he can spare his time.

Although I am well versed with Urdu literature and mainly read translation from other languages, but on chowk apart from few good selections, most of them are good for a school magazine.

It is not criticism. Different persons are suited for different things.

Powerful imagery. Very nice, Pallavi. Looking forward to reading more from you.

The poem is short and good.

But just one question to whom it may concern:

If I pose as a journalist/writer from the subcontinent and write a poem/article hinting at sex or just plain out saying the word (Rehan Ansari`s Lahore Diaries XV), will it be guaranteed publication?

A cousin of mine sent in a beautiful poem about mid-life crisis which hasn`t seen the time of day on Chowk, but has been published and applauded on American (gora) publications.

What is it about the educated desi community and using ``sex`` as a provider of ``shock`` value?

Or is this just a sexual revolution desi style, but thirty years late?

Good stuff!

stretched for miles...the highway to heaven, ending in hell!

veeresh #5:

Malik sahib, sounds like ..... well, never mind!


Jonty #6:

How are you? Or should I say where are you?

----smiling-----

you caught it right on --- try saying it without using orgasm! --- high rollers? ---- moral brigade?

The answer is no, for the last query.

rgds,

t

liked both the poems...though temporal`s contribution was definately more thought provoking:)

keep writing.

Taimur.

I could not exactly fathom the mood of the poem. I tried though. But there are parts which do hold you.

``present endures the anxiety of the imminent``

anxiety of the imminent..(couldn`t help agreeing with it)...may be because of the curiousity as to

HOW the imminent would pass us by.

``prick stretching for miles``

...hmmmm it can.

Nice one.

Are you inspired by any particular poet..?

pullu

``Residue of a Spent Time``?

Title is trying too hard to be creative.

Pallavi

Enjoyed this quite a bit.

``Vision offers pleasure/ perception and/ later ethics, damn it though``

So true.

Thanks for sharing.



t

Enjoyed your friend`s poem, too. ``My intense One`` made me wince, though. As, I`m sorry to say, did this:

``The pleasure of fleeting moments against a background of our desi morality that brings ethical whims to the forefront at THAT time is enchantingly captured by you.``

I know it`s just a reply, but still. You of all people... Anyway. Structure aside, I found the sentiments of the sentence quite interesting. Especially ``ethical whims``. If the poem itself doesn`t stir up the holy rollers, that sure will ;-)

BTW, got your hands on White Teeth yet?

Regards,
Jonathan

Sounds a bit like my college going daughter describing a particularly hairy bus journey from defCol to DU . . .

Interesting.