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India Poems: The Photographs

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Waswo X. Waswo

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“Finally his thumbing rewarded him with what he was seeking. Veronese... Veronese... of course! As he'd told Genevieve, he'd seen a Veronese painting when he'd visited Italy. Memorably because he'd found it erotic: Venus and Mars again, and this time Venus was not wearing a shred, and Mars was kneeling, getting ready to, as he'd inappropriately shared with Genevieve, give Venus a pleasuring. "Genevieve loves a particular 'kind' of painter..." Harry began in a lecturing tone. "She likes light and a grace of line, mythological subjects rich in subtext. She believes Botticelli is not rated highly enough as a painter. I happen to agree. I've seen his 'Venus and Mars' and I am quite moved by his use of mythological subjects. Very sensual." Harry looked thunderstruck. Hmm. The duke didn't know why he should feel authentically pleased by the fact that Genevieve had entrusted him with a confidence she hadn't yet confided in Harry. "She hadn't shared that particular insight with you about Botticelli, Osborne? Perhaps it's a new one. One she's had only recently.”

“Nat is already laughing. We go through this every morning. She tells Nik I own a clown car. I glower at her while I put my foot up onto Nik’s lap and kick the passenger door while turning the ignition. She starts. Works every time. Nik looks like he’s not sure whether to laugh or get the hell out of the car. We’re on our way to work and Nat says, “Nik, turn on the radio.” He shakes his head and replies cynically, “I would but I’m scared the roof might fly off.” Nat and I burst into laughter. We laugh so much we both sob and laugh at the same time.”

“Life is a misery, death an uncertainty. Suppose it steals suddenly upon me, in what state shall I leave this world? When can I learn what I have here neglected to learn? Or is it true that death will cut off and put an end to all care and all feeling? This is something to be inquired into. But no, this cannot be true. It is not for nothing, it is not meaningless that all over the world is displayed the high and towering authority of the Christian faith. Such great and wonderful things would never have been done for us by God, if the life of the soul were to end with the death of the body. Why then do I delay? Why do I not abandon my hopes of this world and devote myself entirely to the search for God and for the happy life?”

“What, Kilorn?' I sigh. 'What,' he echoes, shaking his head. After a long second, something snaps in him. 'I know you don't feel the same way I do. About us.' I'm seized by the urge to smash my head against a rock. Us. It feels stupid to talk about, a foolish waste of time and energy. But more than that, it's embarrassing and uncomfortable. My cheeks flame red. This is not a conversation I ever wanted to have with him.”

“Those I call Horace are absolutely convinced they’re some sort of social wit. Without a doubt they’re intelligent, and most likely very wealthy, although their wealth will come from a business they were set up in by others from their ‘school.’ They’ll have had no need to go to university. Rich people will have set them up in business, possibly Public Relations or something like that, they’ll have helped them write a business plan, loaned them money, and provided advice and guidance at every step of the way. Money would have been forthcoming from investors until the business was able to run itself. And then Horace will swan about as if he did it all himself.”