Friday, January 23, 2009

Of Parodies

Saha has just published a post about an article on “parody and intellectual property” that we once co-authored in our giddy youth. I usually don’t like reproducing material that I have published elsewhere, but the post on parody, coupled with the fact that our college authorities have recently changed the attendance rules, gives me the perfect opportunity to recycle a parodic poem I once published in our college magazine.

The Ballad of a Serial Bunker

This winter morn, the world outside is freezing;
I can’t let them snatch my cozy world away;
The warmth between the blankets is amazing;
I think I will not go to class today.

To Friday morning puris I’m averse,
And I abjure from them; come what may.
Boredom’s bad, but hunger makes it worse;
I think I will not go to class today.

It’s pouring; there’s an atmosphere of gloom;
The road is muddy; the sky outside is grey;
My umbrella’s been stolen from my room;
I think I will not go to class today.

I’m reading, while my conscience wages
A losing war with Ernest Hemingway;
I haven’t read a better book in ages;
I think I will not go to class today.

In football season, to drag myself to class
Would be a waste, I’d much rather play.
I love to feel bare feet on dewy grass;
I think I will not go to class today.

Not a single lecture more can I withstand—
My truant spirit cries, and I obey;
Corp. Insolvency should be banned;
I think I will not go to class today.

From my room, I watch my batch-mates go
To write their tests, but in my room I stay;
My attendance has hit a record low;
I’m not allowed to write my test today.

The poem, if you haven’t figured it out yourself, parodies A Ballade of Suicide by G. K. Chesterton. Parodies and translations—both derivative works—are just about the only forms of poetry I seem remotely capable of writing, which probably goes to show that I’m not a very original thinker.

6 comments:

Anindita Ghose said...

About your comment, since I'm unable to picture your face while you write that, I'm not sure whether you mean it is sad that you can't turn the camera or if my despicable act is an example of sadness.

Shrabasti Banerjee said...

The last stanza's my favourite =)
And you misspelt Hemingway! Thik koro!

Rahul Saha said...

One must understand of course that Sryon's actual life is not at all like this. This diligent student is loved and admired by teachers and students alike. So much so that following on from the trend he set at school the college guards are now naming their kids after him.

Shrabasti Banerjee said...

@ Saha-da: :D :D
@ Sroyon-da: Yay, you fixed it! When'll you be back by the way?

new age scheherazade said...

I love the poem, which I've seen before (thanks) and I love Chesterton.
And hey-at least if you're parodying, you're parodying Chesterton and xkcd. Taste, I call that. :)

Sroyon said...

@Anindita: Oh I meant it's a little sad that I take pictures in only one format now.

@Shrabasti 1: Ohshit.

@The world at large: Saha is bullshitting as usual.

@Shrabasti 2: I AM back.

@Scheherazade: Have you read Tremendous Trifles? It's amazing.