On My Prose (50 Shades of Purple)

‘I love the absolute profligacy of the prose.‘

That sounds so nice. I wish that someone could say that about my writing, which, if I’m honest, is inert, bare of embellishments, like a dead guppy drifting to the surface of an ocean, a television with a broken circuit with wisps of electricity only strong enough to power on the standby light.

When I was young (which was a few years ago. I got my first greys last month, so I guess I’m an old geezer now) I believed that prose had to be straight, to the point, descriptive and a little clinical. It was all about the plot! Now, on the cusp of a new year (it’s Advent already), my mindset has changed, like a chameleon stranded in a jungle of poetry, an interloper in a den of versifiers, a guest wearing the wrong kind of footwear in the Club of Bards. It’s so much fun to write flowery prose *ahem, I mean literary ahem* and I’ve only just begun to experiment with this style.

I don’t know how this style of prose will be received by the web novel fantasy audiences around the world. All I know is that I’ll have fun writing it. This time, I won’t consider publishing my serial novel until I have sixty chapters written down. My last attempt at writing, crashed and burned. 🔥 It got too much to handle, writing two chapters a week and all.

I don’t know why I’m writing this post. It’s almost a confessional…Ugh! It just feels good to get it out, like Mount Vesuvius releasing its pent up fury, or a constipated…( umm…no. I don’t do toilet humour). As I type this out on my phone in the dark, with the light from the screen illuminating my fingers as they move with a virtuoso’s grace, I feel my inspiration fading away like a silhouette sunrise, and bid you all adieu.

See you later alligators

A/N: ‘In literary criticism, purple prose is overly ornate prose text that may disrupt a narrative flow by drawing undesirable attention to its own extravagant style of writing, thereby diminishing the appreciation of the prose overall.’ That’s why I titled this post ’50 shades of purple’

Four Limericks on Indian Cuisines

1.

There once was a lady from Goa
Who mixed chorizo with her sambar
A passing chef did frown
When her lunch box fell down
He hadn’t seen anything so bizarre

2.

There once was a king of Travancore
In whose long reign there’d never been war
Tapioca was planted
When famine descended
And new cuisines did the land explore

3.

There once was a young man from Bengal
Who made everyone else feel so small
He said it was the fish
His mama’s special dish
That made him so incredibly tall

4.

There once was a big strong Jaipuri
Who turned all his food into tandoori
His stomach wasn’t quiet
He soon had to diet
Now he only eats rotis and ghee

Image: sambar