The only thing that could have roused her from sleep

A distinction in a recently written dissertation. Of course no one will believe it if she says it was totally unexpected and perhaps somewhat undeserved as well.

Unwilling to believe the email that has arrived in her POP mailbox, she trudges to the internet to read the same missive online. Still unsure, she logs in to the university website and checks there as well. And then she summons M and makes him read all three.

Now she’s sitting on a large armchair, eating an entire tub of rum-n-raisin (homemade) ice cream by herself. Smirking a little. And licking her whiskers.

* homemade does not mean ‘made at home by her’. the maker is a friendly neighbourhood auntyji who is buttered up regularly precisely for privileges such as this.

but she insists that you be told about her unbeatable mango-ice cream making skills.

Apologies

She is tired. Weary. It would be untrue to claim overwork. No, even in exhaustion she must remain honest.

Please accept apologies for comments unanswered. Know that they are not unread, and forgive her.

She will return when the sleep passes.

untitled

i am wearing purple.
a kancheevaram, no less
bordered bottle green,
with a cheap orange 2-by-2.

but of course
they aren’t surprised.
why would they be,
on this planet
of the blind?

~
(see this)

Decorum

Spotless doormats
And my muddy footprints
On them.
You do it so well,
The unwelcoming.

That precarious vase
Those creaseless cushions
What better a way
than ceaseless symmetry
to stifle conversation?

I am loathe to taint
Your polished doorknobs
With greasy fingerprints.
But know no other way
To enter the unrequited rooms
Of your company.

~

Edited. Original in comments.