>3rd August 2005


>

My Dearest Agha,

 

Not long ago I made yet another intermittent attempt to sit, stare and stamp my fingers on the keyboard and cascaded window screens and computer tools. A cobweb and blogs of information yet no ideas to advent on email. Read a lot but wrote nothing. I felt perturbed and kept pounding over dynamics of a shaded perplexity. When my exulted efforts to write you had failed I turned toward the touchstone of my daily journal and poetry on writing pad. It is ostensible that things seem to exceed slowly and you reading in curiosity. “History is of particulars and Poetry of universals”, understood nowhere but read recently in a book. Books are addendum of carriage for that extra mileage but then extraneous load at speed is not always easily driven. Maybe, I have been doing something similar or had thought too much over it and did nothing. Maybe, it is only getting accustomed to new habits and lifestyle. Maybe, the brighter segment is to write anything on and from that every bit of sense. It is placing the puzzles of scrabble in proper fragments where some words pertain to joy and others to matters with authenticity in seriousness but they all become part of one frame board….maybe. Writing views about books and humors of my house, reading as much material but maintaining a daily journal, spend time with everyone and no negligence to yourself, lend a hand to your brother but your own not to a full stop, listening to mother and not letting go writing to General, remunerating light on every feathers of life, keep receiving emails from friends and emit them who don’t hear you, follow course of university admissions and attentive on alternative coursework of batmans. I have switched off the AC. Doors wide opened ragging pulp over the carpet underneath with moist of raindrops outside. It is a sweet minute to write and watch the rain boisterously. A momentarily shrivel in skin pores of bulged and swollen goose bumps gazing garden of greens. The withering revolutions in weather of planet Pindi. Anyways, so much for the romanticism with Rousseau which reminds me that he was the most perverted and odd philosopher with holocaust of historical impacts. The fruits of his philosophy is actually a subject of complete ridicule. If I recall right, he was from Switzerland and traveled en route on foot through marshes and meadows of Europe to Paris probably. Most of his life was sustained through patronage from esteem class of ladies. He was the centre joke by every perversity of Nature. Every philosopher adds acumen by enticing humor out of his despicable nature. He is remembered and not persecuted on charges of knavery. He had also given many momentous lectures on breast feeding along with 12 children from a house maid. His kind significance and ominous contribution was eventually a tribute made to the school of orphans. However, from the vantage point prior to French revolution, it tweaked the tail of a classical period.

 

I have started reading A Midsummer Night Dream by Shakespeare, In the arena and moping  within sections of the green book who is rationalist by every mean but surprisingly paradox of praising capitalism in one corner of a book page. The Language section highlights how a person is worth two souls by knowing an additional language and it is less cumbersome if exerted before age of thirty. The physical section gives caution to maintain a healthy food fashion and intake ingredients. The Comparative religion does not have anything substantial but shallow criticism altogether. After chapters of Intellectual Culture and Physical Culture eludes Aesthetic Culture by becoming a page turner. He has repetitively quoted lines of eminent people ciphering the myth of artist. The Aesthetic culture is folded within chapters of Theory and functions of Art and a page on architecture with desolated qualms of skyscrapers. The Sculpture chapter is nice and held in colossal admiration for Greeks, Japs and Gandhara.

 

You would like to advert your eye whenever have the opportunity to Painting chapter. He persuades every rationalist to have Leonardo’s “School of Athens” at home which I recall Haider Bhai having in their drawing room and showing it to me. Chinese painters are appraised well worthy from a time primitive. I am now enjoying the poetry part!

 

The never coming lull of storm in the arenas of republicans is an epitome and helps you read in animated picture which I deem is very good. It is very interesting how the Watergate scandal flooded his campaign forever but more importantly how he recuperated his physical and mental shell shock. I always think there is more to learn from facets of tragedy than comedy or maybe… it is my overture.

 

Stay tune!

Love

Moody

 

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