Remembering Myself, Travestying Time…and Phonying towards Perfection

On Lucky Jim and my Problem with Wodehouse

It is seldom that I find a fictional character that I can genuinely relate with. Or, to put it mildly, that I am able to comprehend the philosophical POV of another person. I have written earlier about Holden Caulfield and Christopher Boone. The greatest joys of reading Lucky Jim in my graduate days was the discovery of a relatable soul. More than in the character Dixon, but in the implied author (yes, I know my bit of narratology). He was excruciatingly funny, the way descriptions bring out vivid pictures of silly everyday life and persons, the unapologetic loserliness of the protagonist, the hypocrisies of academia, the embarrassing sadness of living.

It’s unfortunate that the book is not popular, and that the people I recommended it to found it boring and tedious. They’d rather prefer Wodehouse with his pretentious, monotonous, trivial hotchpotch of wordplay, misunderstandings, idiosyncratic characters and endless repartee. Wodehouse, I admit, is fun for a depressing and hectic day because it takes away the steam with its childish revel in nonsense.

Continue reading “On Lucky Jim and my Problem with Wodehouse”



An 8mp snapshot from a boat ride via Alappuzha, Kerala.

View from Church

Rain in the cemetery

On the headstones are perched

Wet black crows

Continue reading “View from Church”

Quote #111

What looks like Westernization is often only a means of domesticating the West, sometimes by reducing the West to the level of the comic and the trivial.

Ashis Nandy. The Intimate Enemy.

Sketch – 056

Digital painting. Made in Adobe Sketch for Android.

Burning fallen leaves

hot clouds of smoke

prod the leaves overhead–

they dance gently into the flames.

Sketch – 055

Experimenting in digital art. Made in Adobe Sketch for Android.

Quote #110

Through the gaps in the striped awning the sea could be seen rubbing itself against the beach like a tranquil, abstracted cat, arching its back to the passing breeze.

“Who Put the Mine in the Sea?” Adam, One Afternoon. Italo Calvino.



Peechi Dam, Kerala.

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