Hey friends!
Do you remember the poem that we learned in primary school?
Let me refresh your memory! It was a cute poem by EDWARD LEAR! So enjoy!
The Owl and the Pussycat
By: Edward Lear
I
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'
II
Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
III
'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The memoirs of Vidyutgati !!
THE MEMOIRS OF VIDYUTGATI
I - The story of Shakuntala
I am Vidyutgati, a mere tortoise by body but more my namesake by virtue of my imaginative prowess. I am four hundred and sixty years old and middle age agrees with me. I now have more time to dwell into the past and dig out some important facts about many kings and dynasties. Much to my astonishment they are presented in a distorted way in the manuscripts today. One should not tamper with history but learn from it. It still is not too late, for I, Vidyutgati have wowed to set it right.
Do you remember Shakuntala, the daughter of Menaka and Vishwamitra? A rare beauty, even in that age, when all the womenfolk were good looking. A salad diet and herbal make-up was her secret. A cock alarm for early rising, one-hour workout with pet deer followed by a glass full skimmed cow’s milk, a fresh fruit salad for breakfast, a healthy low calorie lunch, a game of play-ball with friends in the evenings and vegetable soup for dinner and, lo and behold; Shakuntala, the ravishing!
One glorious morning, I was basking in the sun near the pond. What I saw was more amusing than alarming. Shakuntala was trying to hit a black wasp’s nest with a pebble. Her friend Priyamvada was keeping watch quietly. Then curiousity got the better of her and she finally asked, “ What are you doing Shaku? Don’t you remember the thrashing that you got the last time you tried something equally idiotic?” “Oh shut up! Will you? How can I concentrate with you constantly babbling over my head? And how will father come to know anyhow, until of course, you decide to squeal on me!” Shakuntala shot back irritated. “Well, all right! I am leaving. I want to have no part of this affair, if I can’t know what’s going on. Bye! (May that wasp sting you!),” said her friend and started off. “Hey! Come back here. I didn’t mean that. Of course I’ll tell you. Let me catch this wretched thing first. Can’t you wait patiently till then?” Shakuntala chided.
She finally managed to get that wasp and put it in a wooden box. Then she revealed her plan. “You know Pakshiraja?” Shakuntala asked Priyamvada, “Who? That pest of a parrot?” Priyamvada queried. “Yes,” Shakuntala replied. “What about him? Did he again sing love songs in a male voice to Guru Ma? Did he run away with Anusuya’s under clothes? Just what did that worm do this time?” asked Priyamvada. “He did nothing of the sort. This time he got me a great piece of news! After befriending King Dushyanta’s pet mynah, he got to know that the king is going on a hunting expedition in a few days. He will be hunting in the woods neighbouring our ashrama! Isn’t that great news?” Shakuntala gushed. “Finally, you have lost your last marble! What has the king’s hunting trip got to do with you? (God help her!)” asked Priyamvada. “You are the one who is stupid! Don’t you see? This is my chance to befriend the king!” answered Shakuntala. “So what are you going to disguise yourself as, a bear, a warthog or a hippo? That’s the only way you can get the attention of the king in the hunt!” mused Priyamvada. “Who said anything about my going to the king? I mean to bring the king to our ashrama. And Pakshiraja is going to help in that!” said Shakuntala.
“Anything for you, my lovely!” a deep male voice replied from a nearby tree. Slightly shocked, both women looked up. It was Pakshiraja, Shakuntala’s pet parrot, much to Priyamvada’s dislike. “Oh no! Not you again! Why don’t you play your lewd pranks on someone your own size!” shouted Priyamvada. “ The lovely maiden is jealous of my love to you, Shakuntala. My my! She is getting purple all over, not only in face! Tut tut! I really feel sorry for you, Priyamvada,” said Pakshiraja. Exasperated, Priyamvada said, “I have a definite urge to wring your neck, you dirty feathered, pea brained, squeaky voiced, good for nothing, worm of a parrot. Wait till I lay my hands on you! Come in my way, if you dare! Are you telling me your plan Shaku or should I leave?”
“All right, listen,” whispered Shakuntala, “Pakshiraja is going to go in the woods, and hide in the bushes, right in the king’s path. He then will imitate a lion or a tiger. I am sure the king will follow this bait, and Pakshiraja will lead him to our doorstep. By then the king will be lost in the woods and will be glad to find this place. Then, my dear friend, will be the wasp’s turn to play its role,” Shakuntala said patting the wooden box, “I plan to irritate it to such an extent that’s it comes right after me, as soon as I set it free. Our gallant and chivalrous king will surely help a damsel in distress, don’t you think! I will take care of the rest.” “You surely are a clever and manipulating one, Shaku. Aren’t you afraid of anyone?” questioned a stupefied Priyamvada. “The future queen should be fearless. After all she has to guide and rule the king,” replied Shakuntala with an air of a queen.
My head started to spin and I decided to take a dip in the cool waters of the pond. By the time I finished, they had already left. A few days later I heard that Dushayanta had married Shakuntala in a Gandharva ceremony. So finally Shakuntala had her dreams realised. The rest, as they say, is history!
I - The story of Shakuntala
I am Vidyutgati, a mere tortoise by body but more my namesake by virtue of my imaginative prowess. I am four hundred and sixty years old and middle age agrees with me. I now have more time to dwell into the past and dig out some important facts about many kings and dynasties. Much to my astonishment they are presented in a distorted way in the manuscripts today. One should not tamper with history but learn from it. It still is not too late, for I, Vidyutgati have wowed to set it right.
Do you remember Shakuntala, the daughter of Menaka and Vishwamitra? A rare beauty, even in that age, when all the womenfolk were good looking. A salad diet and herbal make-up was her secret. A cock alarm for early rising, one-hour workout with pet deer followed by a glass full skimmed cow’s milk, a fresh fruit salad for breakfast, a healthy low calorie lunch, a game of play-ball with friends in the evenings and vegetable soup for dinner and, lo and behold; Shakuntala, the ravishing!
One glorious morning, I was basking in the sun near the pond. What I saw was more amusing than alarming. Shakuntala was trying to hit a black wasp’s nest with a pebble. Her friend Priyamvada was keeping watch quietly. Then curiousity got the better of her and she finally asked, “ What are you doing Shaku? Don’t you remember the thrashing that you got the last time you tried something equally idiotic?” “Oh shut up! Will you? How can I concentrate with you constantly babbling over my head? And how will father come to know anyhow, until of course, you decide to squeal on me!” Shakuntala shot back irritated. “Well, all right! I am leaving. I want to have no part of this affair, if I can’t know what’s going on. Bye! (May that wasp sting you!),” said her friend and started off. “Hey! Come back here. I didn’t mean that. Of course I’ll tell you. Let me catch this wretched thing first. Can’t you wait patiently till then?” Shakuntala chided.
She finally managed to get that wasp and put it in a wooden box. Then she revealed her plan. “You know Pakshiraja?” Shakuntala asked Priyamvada, “Who? That pest of a parrot?” Priyamvada queried. “Yes,” Shakuntala replied. “What about him? Did he again sing love songs in a male voice to Guru Ma? Did he run away with Anusuya’s under clothes? Just what did that worm do this time?” asked Priyamvada. “He did nothing of the sort. This time he got me a great piece of news! After befriending King Dushyanta’s pet mynah, he got to know that the king is going on a hunting expedition in a few days. He will be hunting in the woods neighbouring our ashrama! Isn’t that great news?” Shakuntala gushed. “Finally, you have lost your last marble! What has the king’s hunting trip got to do with you? (God help her!)” asked Priyamvada. “You are the one who is stupid! Don’t you see? This is my chance to befriend the king!” answered Shakuntala. “So what are you going to disguise yourself as, a bear, a warthog or a hippo? That’s the only way you can get the attention of the king in the hunt!” mused Priyamvada. “Who said anything about my going to the king? I mean to bring the king to our ashrama. And Pakshiraja is going to help in that!” said Shakuntala.
“Anything for you, my lovely!” a deep male voice replied from a nearby tree. Slightly shocked, both women looked up. It was Pakshiraja, Shakuntala’s pet parrot, much to Priyamvada’s dislike. “Oh no! Not you again! Why don’t you play your lewd pranks on someone your own size!” shouted Priyamvada. “ The lovely maiden is jealous of my love to you, Shakuntala. My my! She is getting purple all over, not only in face! Tut tut! I really feel sorry for you, Priyamvada,” said Pakshiraja. Exasperated, Priyamvada said, “I have a definite urge to wring your neck, you dirty feathered, pea brained, squeaky voiced, good for nothing, worm of a parrot. Wait till I lay my hands on you! Come in my way, if you dare! Are you telling me your plan Shaku or should I leave?”
“All right, listen,” whispered Shakuntala, “Pakshiraja is going to go in the woods, and hide in the bushes, right in the king’s path. He then will imitate a lion or a tiger. I am sure the king will follow this bait, and Pakshiraja will lead him to our doorstep. By then the king will be lost in the woods and will be glad to find this place. Then, my dear friend, will be the wasp’s turn to play its role,” Shakuntala said patting the wooden box, “I plan to irritate it to such an extent that’s it comes right after me, as soon as I set it free. Our gallant and chivalrous king will surely help a damsel in distress, don’t you think! I will take care of the rest.” “You surely are a clever and manipulating one, Shaku. Aren’t you afraid of anyone?” questioned a stupefied Priyamvada. “The future queen should be fearless. After all she has to guide and rule the king,” replied Shakuntala with an air of a queen.
My head started to spin and I decided to take a dip in the cool waters of the pond. By the time I finished, they had already left. A few days later I heard that Dushayanta had married Shakuntala in a Gandharva ceremony. So finally Shakuntala had her dreams realised. The rest, as they say, is history!
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