Peter Sellers as Hrundi V. Bakshi in Hollywood Party
Food is my weakness. 'Exquisite Culinary Art' is my obsession. Peter Sellers
was a very dear friend. i met him at a party in London long time back,
where he was looking for some 'body' with whom (on whom will be more
appropriate), he could practice his Punjabi and Hindustani (mainly choicest
of Punjabi gaalis) learnt during his Air Force days in India. Punjabi food
and 'Spirituality' (in that order) was the 'Binding Factor'. This month's
poems are about food and about the country i decided to raise my children
in.
...Peter Sellers Sahib ispeaking*
How he used to blow
End of line yer friend ispeaking*
i said its my
FOE
Giving cue to
Party’s Peter
Indian Bugle blow
#Blower’s line Blushing heating
Trading greetings Verbal beauties
Choicest PUN JAB BING Sermons
Flying to and fro
i will often cry with laughter
His eyes will flow
Saddened eyes Searching eyes
i remember the glow
One day seriously asking Sellers
Why mimic my people ‘fellers’
Why on earth you gave the birth
To
GOODNESS GRACIOUS ME
Peter jabbed me
In my ribs
Scolded
Either you laugh or you crib
I never mimicked yer people
Or mine
Was merely copying the Soul
Of nation thine
Land of Ancients
Wisdom Divine
Been searching ‘Seekhing’
For some time
My search ended at
MAY FAIR For the moment
So I thought
At the threshold of
NIRVANA
Culinary Trance was all I got
But then I thought
‘ll savour
Spiritual Food
Tis was what I sought
Instead
Got enlightened
Meditating
With cooking pot
# Telephone
* Used to mimic the people of U.P. who
pronounce ‘S’ as ‘Ics’ (with no malice).
Rocky Mountain Goat
John James Audubon
REQUIEM FOR MUTTON HEADS
Sophisticated Mongols
No bow No arrows
Only
Piercing barbs and phlegm
Gengis Khans
With
Poisonous pens
Slaughtering the meek
Bowing to the mighty
Spoofing
For the rest
It is all
For number game
Numerical gains
Rating elevation
For
The self
And
The Almighty press
They look for
Search for
The Soul
What they mean is
Sole
Or
SOL
Of
The Costa del Sol
In fact
A body without soul
Long live
The mighty culinary pen
Special ink
Poisonous Lead
Finally
The soul is dead
Master of Epicurean mess
This is a tribute to
Palate of steel
Cotton taste buds
About their arrogant
All knowing prowess
The more you say
Is
Less than less
They are a powerful
Exclusive club of
The chosen few
If they don’t like you
Or your looks
Never argue
If they pronounce
That
This is broth
Not a stew
Or
This is rump
Not a fillet
You always concur
And say
Yes Bwana
So be it So be it
If they prop up
Their pets
Their favourites
Selecting them as
The Best
Of the rest
You simply
Bow and prostrate
In front of these
Delicate
Mutton Heads
Cafe Terrace
Vincent van Gogh
COORY & CHIPS
Messiah came with his cooking pot
To stem the Culinary Rot
To Bless
The blessed land of
Fish and chips
Banger and chips
With salt and vinegar
But no Dips
Blessed the natives
Masala Tips
Weaned them away
From “Curry & Chips”
Warned them
Encouraged them
“DESIST”
Don’t use term ‘Curry’
It doesn’t exist
A lone dying ‘currying’ voice
Fighting booming
To the sky
Now the whole land is infested
With Curry this Curry that
Intemperate Marauding Maraud
Ubiquitous Tasteless Epicurean Fraud
“Experts”
Curry hit squad
Self styled “curry nabobs” Fresh Culinary Upstarts
Buy beer Buy Masala
Dime a dozen “curry” awards
Mainstream Jinks Ethnical Charade
Enthralling Enthral
‘Curry’ Hall of Fame
Goodness Gracious What a shame
Maverick won’t play the ball
But always the fool
Refuse to play
By the Rule
Of tasteless critical lot
i am the pariah
i am the messiah
May be
i am
Currying my passion
Wasting my love
To stem the
CULINARY ROT
Brutus and senators stabbing Caesar
Illustration: James Gitlin
TRUE FRIENDS
Friends True friends
Are my true strength
The best example follows
Some of their truest gems
Hollow
A sincere adulating tribute From very sincere tribe
To phlegm from phlegm
Common envious trite
That i am a village idiot
On long furlough Eternal sabbatical
A perennial pseudo erudiot*
Tyrannical Absolutely Fanatical
A tribal reactionary chief
A perfect village bumpkin
A mind plundering thief
A mental Mannikin
So they say ‘it’
A complete misfit
Dumb old-fashioned dummy A bloated mannequin
Backward outmoded
Simmering self generated bile
Mind absolutely corroded
In the rile Of the hate
Says them Ahem
i am dead merchandise Long past ‘beguile’
Past the shelf life
And all important ‘Sell By’ date
i accept all this with gratitude
With no attitude No ifs and buts
The above spewed homily
But completely reject the anomaly
That i cannot cook for nuts Despite lifelong boastings All that pretence
i know naught To mix and blend
The yeast In the least
Or how to cook marshmallow
Forget trumpeting about marvellous feasts
That my cooking is boring coarse and dense
Tell those darn dear fellows
If it pleases them i don’t mind going to gallows
So long they don’t demolish my cooking My last ‘mentor’ defence
Empty Hollow ‘Brimful’ Vessels completely shallow
To gallows i take absolutely no offence
Might even cook them Their silly marshmallow
One who pretends to be learned and scholarly (derived from Erudite)
Diana 1997/8
Twin Studio
KOOL BRITANNIA
Its nowt about Cool Britannia of newer politicians
Naught those
Or
Rule Britannia of Imperial disposition
Its Kool Britannia of Land i chose
To raise my children in And it’s People
My People It is a grateful Tribute A belated recognition
And i state and declare with pride
That
Despite Flaws and prejudices
A few ‘Tilted Nurds’
This country is most tolerant and civilised
Anywhere
In this world
Flatterers and sycophants are an abject lot
Those who play up to the gallery
Are despicable sort
But
Nowt giving credit where it’s due
All you do
Instead
Is to Gnaw and Chew
A very expensive Chew
Takes millions of pounds to spew
And moan
In a land you came as guest
Earn your living Build your nest
And now call it your own
These sops can be described as ungrateful sods
At its very best
Nowt to suggest
That you dish out or accept
Inferior behaviour in any form
Any respect
All i say is be fair
See everything in its proper context
YES
Colour prejudice does exist in Britain
Show me a Country where it doesn’t
In our Mother Country
Whom i love with all my heart
Colour Region and religion
Is Soul reason
For all prejudices of present and past
We Aryans
Entered India thousands years ago
Pushed darker natives to farthest nooks
Darkest Parts
Preserved our “Purity”
Barred them fast
Put straight jacket of “Varna”*
Or
The Caste
Initially Castes were based on colour of yer skin
Later on vocational dogma crept in
That’s how
DIE
Nay
DYE
Of Caste Syndrome
Of all prejudices was cast
And
The poor darker native was
Pushed Forced and Taught
Always to be the last
But
i don’t hear me peers criticise it
Ever
On the contrary
The pious ones willingly subscribe to it
To the letter
But when it comes to this Land
Its different matter
Hear me all me peers
My pretty little queers
It is not an Equestrian Race
You are not dealing with horses
But
People’s heart
You whip it - it will kick you
Nowt good for any Race
MATE
You won’t make it run fast
In response to Race Commission’s
Findings, chaired by a fellow Indian.
(A Lord) Press report of 9th Oct. 2000
* “Varna” means colour
Iron Mask and Collar for Punishing Slaves, Brazil, ca. 1817
Jacques Arago, La vuelta al mundo: recuerdos de un ciego (Barcelona, 1851)
Alderman Library, University of Virginia
BLAME THE VICTIMS
Highness’s ‘High’ is a High
Higher than any other ‘High’
Or
Maybe a mere pie in the sky
‘I am ness’ is ‘Fie ness’
In the Eye of “I”
Ego building sycophantic adulations ‘sine die’
Holding hands of dying victims with a compassionate cringe
Then go out and have a passionate fling
Or
Splurge on and on The designers binge
And all this
For the Country and the King
Country and the King
Poor wretches were hung drawn quartered for stealing a sheep
Yet countries Nay Continents stolen Behest of the King
The sanctified civilised idolised thief
White man’s burden Half child half devil Verily rings
For the Country and the King
Country and the King
Pirates were Cited Applauded Knighted
Blessed with Charters to loot the blighted
Nation’s beloved Heroes Zeroed in to power
Booty timely heeded Escaping the tower
And its all in the Game
All in the name
Of
The country and the king
Country and the King
First annex poor nations
Then cover yer tracks Yer motives Annexations
Then start denigrating Their civilisations
But remember the dictum
Whatever happens Never admit Yer Greed
The Betrayal The Plundering seed
Admit only Yer “Civilising fiction”
Historically speaking
Blame the poor victim
Contemporarily speaking
Always blame the victims
SINGLE EURO TRASH
It takes thousands of years
To Build and Create
Evolve Perpetuate
An Institution
A National Institution
It takes a mere
‘AYE’
To destroy
The existence
Its entire constitution
In a National Referendum
Misguiding Confounding Lopsided Memorandums
And the rest
But what is next
On Agendum
Is it English language or ‘Euro’ Lingua Franca
For Corrigendum
Prophet of Profits
Soulless Midas Midge
No Return Sophistry
Burning every bridge
Compromising History
Destroying Heritage
In Herd Heralding Times
Pecuniary Shines
Our Hearts and Mind
Must expand beyond myopic borders
Transcend narrow visions
Avarice Driven
Fecundating Fiscalating Self Generating Disorders
YES
We must participate
With
Europe Asia Africa United States
But for goodness sakes
No need to Invade Devastate
People’s mind
Their Legitimate Pride Inundate
Franc Mark Guilder Pound
Long before Hanseatic Times
Been around
All this time and doing just fine
Sterling trading absolutely sound
Part of History Part of Life
Murdering Lira Pounding Pound
Unnecessary Wasteful Strife
It’s important to expand
To regenerate
‘Powerful block’ Ensues emanates
Always a boon to boom and to dominate
But
To do a Grand boring Job
Pulverise Old Currencies
With Euro Cosh
And
Create a Euro Tosh
New Soulless Mishing Mash
Perfect Euro rift A Perfect Greek gift
A Single boring Euro Trash
OR
You could keep the Old Currencies
Including The Good Old Sterling
Without Euro Mandarin’s Twirling
A Grand New Euro Bash
New Euro Cash
RECONSTRUCTED
New Franc New Mark New Guilder New Pound and all the Rest
Mutually Compensated to the best
READJUSTED
To
Absolute Clarity
Absolute Equality
With
Cent Per Cent
Hundred Percent Parity
And
With
Magnanimous Honourable Equable Charity
These poems may not be re-produced without express permission of the author.
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