I listened to Ginsberg's howl and the discussion on 'howl' recoreded on the occasion of the 50th anniversary celebration of Ginsberg's poem howl on the New York radio pacifica. The poem is a epoch making impact on the history of American poetry. The poem had to undergo trial of censorship. There is something incredible humanitarian in the poem. There is nothing in the poem that corrupts youth's or children's mind. It won the court case. There is something old fashion in the poem: the old fashion about the values, write and wrong. Howl has the potential to instil values long lost Whitman value.
And I read Amiri Baraka's Somebody Blew Up America. These poets of Beats generation were so outspoken against all the wrongs and follies of politics and social system and tradition.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
11th December, 07
The 1st semester is drawing to a close. Christmas is at the doorstep. The prefestival excitement is felt and seen exverywhere. Today, there was the last class (workshop) with Stevie. The workshop was wondrously fruitful. I got very constructive comments from Stevie and everyone.
After the class, Stevie asked me to stay behind, telling that she has to give me something. After ten minutes, she came with an envelop that on the cover read:
Happy Christmas,
Mukul
___________
Do not open it till you get home !
(I mean, to Beck House)
Stevie and Nigel
And said, 'Don't open it until you reach your room.' She asked me, 'When will you open?'
I said, 'In my room'. Then said, 'Merry Christmas.' See you at Nigel's on the 21st.
I came back home, a curiosity of a child quickened my pace. Opened the envelop to find some GBP notes, staring at me, I counted, they made an amount of £250. I felt warmth of their heart on these notes. A huge prize for me. I felt this token of affection of my tutors towards me has made me aware of my destination once more. I had the similar feeling when Carol paid £1000 of my tuition fee on my behalf in the beginning of my university year in September.
With the notes was a note from Stevie in her hand writing on the university letterhead:
Dear Mukul -
Nigel and I would like you to have this money to help towards your costs: please do what seems best with it.
No need to than us. We are lucky to have you with us.
Very best,
Stevie
After the class, Stevie asked me to stay behind, telling that she has to give me something. After ten minutes, she came with an envelop that on the cover read:
Happy Christmas,
Mukul
___________
Do not open it till you get home !
(I mean, to Beck House)
Stevie and Nigel
And said, 'Don't open it until you reach your room.' She asked me, 'When will you open?'
I said, 'In my room'. Then said, 'Merry Christmas.' See you at Nigel's on the 21st.
I came back home, a curiosity of a child quickened my pace. Opened the envelop to find some GBP notes, staring at me, I counted, they made an amount of £250. I felt warmth of their heart on these notes. A huge prize for me. I felt this token of affection of my tutors towards me has made me aware of my destination once more. I had the similar feeling when Carol paid £1000 of my tuition fee on my behalf in the beginning of my university year in September.
With the notes was a note from Stevie in her hand writing on the university letterhead:
Dear Mukul -
Nigel and I would like you to have this money to help towards your costs: please do what seems best with it.
No need to than us. We are lucky to have you with us.
Very best,
Stevie
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