KISSING - ROBOT - ADULTERY - ZERO

KISSING

Words, in a sense, are musical notes, and the voice is the instrument that plays and thus interprets them.

The modulation of your voice contributes to the meanings of the words you speak.

A girl can sigh and say, "What a heavenly moon," and her boy friend knows perfectly well that she's not talking about astronomy. All she wants is to be kissed.

Suppose, we will say, you are in Paris and you meet a French girl at a party, and you tell her in your most dulcet [honeyed] tones how beautiful she is. She will almost understand you and may purse her lips and give a dainty toss of her head to show you she knows full well that you have said that to lots of girls before.

A little far-fetched, perhaps, but still possible.

This thing of voice modulation can play many parts in language.

The word "come," for instance, according to how it is said, can be made to connote tenderness, impatience, love, hate, doubt, or imperious command.

With stress alone you can give four meanings to the sentence "I like her."

You can say, "I like her," (I don't care whether anybody else does or not), or "I like her" (emphasizing your affection), or "I like her" (but I don't think much of her sister), or "I like her?" (you're crazy!).

There are so many other angles besides the modulation of one's voice in this matter of understanding each other.

If, perhaps, you say "Bobby is a bad boy," you haven't told us a thing about Bobby. You have merely given us a tip on your personal code of ethics and morals.

- Dr. Wilfred Funk: 25 MAGIC STEPS TO WORD POWER, Goyal Publishers & Distributors, 86 UB Jawahar Nagar (Kamla Nagar), Delhi-110007. This PIN code ending 007 reminds Me of James Bond 007 - G [I studied at St. Stephen's College, Delhi - 110007 many years ago - it was then an all-male College, thank God, unlike now; it's co-ed now. - G]

[When I was a little boy studying in a lower elementary class at English-medium St. Agnes' School in Haflong, Assam, India, I was affectionately called "Bobby" by "Sisters" and "Mothers" of that missionary school. - G]

Kishalay Sinha [G]

ROBOT

Bobby is short for Robert.

Robert Ludlum thrillers.

Robert Langdon in Dan Brown thrillers.

Robert Browning (terrifying love poems).

Robert Frost - love poems ("My love is a red, red rose" etc.).

Isaac Asimov: ROBOT series - Robot sounds like Robert. Clever parody of Robert/Bobby/Me?

Harry Potter magician - Harry - Hari - Krishna - My dad's name - so Harry Potter a parody of Me?

Hari Seldon - mathematician and psycho-historian in Isaac Asimov's entertaining sci fi FOUNDATION series - parody of Me and psycho-technologists?

Kishalay Sinha [G]

ADULTERY

His sister peered at the book's dust jacket. "I'm not familiar with the author," she said, thus condemning the book forever.

Atticus glanced at his sister, amused. She was an impossible woman, but a sight better than having Jean Louise permanently home and miserable. When his daughter was miserable she prowled, and Atticus liked his women to be relaxed, not constantly emptying ashtrays.

He heard a car turn into the driveway, he heard two of its doors slam, then the front door slam.

"Atticus --" she said.

"Put her suitcase in the bedroom, please, Hank," said Atticus over her shoulder. "Thanks for meeting her."

Jean Louise pecked at her aunt and missed. "How's the rheumatism, Aunty?"

"Some better, sweet."

"Atticus?"

"Some better, sweet. Did you have a good trip down?"

"Yes sir." She collapsed on the sofa. Hank returned from his chores, said, "Move over," and sat down beside her.

Jean Louise yawned and stretched. "What's the news?" she asked. "All I get these days is reading between the lines in the Maycomb Tribune. You all never write me anything... Cousin Edgar still courtin' you, Aunty?"asked Jean Louise. "Looks like after eleven years he'd ask you to marry him."

Atticus raised his eyebrows in warning. He watched his [adopted?] daughter's daemon rise and dominate her: her eyebrows were lifted and one corner of her mouth was raised dangerously. When she looked thus, only God and Robert Browning knew what she was likely to say.

Her aunt protested. "Really, Jean Louise, Edgar is your father's and my first cousin."

"At this stage of the game, it shouldn't make much difference, Aunty."

Atticus asked quickly, "How did you leave the big city?"

"Right now I want to know about this big city. You two never write me any dirt. Aunty, I'm depending on you to give me a year's news in fifteen minutes."

"Well --" said Alexandra. "Well, you must have heard about the Merriweathers. That was a mighty sad thing."

"What happened?"

"They've parted."

"What?" said Jean Louise in genuine amazement. "You mean separated?"

"Yes," her aunt nodded.

She turned to her father [her adoptive "father"?]. "The Merriweathers? How long have they been married?"

Atticus looked at the ceiling, remembering. He was a precise man. "Forty-two years," he said. "I was at their wedding."

Alexandra said, "We first got wind of something wrong when they'd come to church and sit on opposite sides of the auditorium ..."

Henry said, "They glared at each other for Sundays on end ..."

Atticus said, "And the next thing you know they were in the office asking me to get 'em a divorce."

"Did you?" Jean Louise looked at her father.

"I did."

"On what grounds?"

"Adultery."

Jean Louise shook her head in wonder. Lord, she thought --

(From Harper Lee: GO SET A WATCHMAN)

CLOTHES OFF

Jem preached the longest, most tedious sermon she ever heard in her life. He said that sin was about the most sinful thing he could think of, and no one who sinned could be a success, and blessed was he who sat in the seat of the scornful.

He started on hell, but she said, "Now cut it out, Jem." Reverend Moorehead's description of it was enough to last her a lifetime. Jem reversed his field and tackled heaven.

Jem drew the service to a close by asking all who wished to be united with Christ to step forward. She went.

Jem put his hand on her head and said, "Young lady, do you repent?"

"Yes sir," she said.

"Have you been baptized?"

"No sir," she said.

"Well --" Jem dipped his hand into the black water of the fishpool and laid it on her head. "I baptize you --"

"Hey, wait a minute!" shouted Dill. "That's not right!"

"I reckon it is," said Jem. "Scout [Jean Louise] and me are Methodists."

"Yeah, but we're having a Baptist revival. You've got to duck her."

Jem looked at her. "Scout, you better take your clothes off. They'll get wet."

She divested herself of her overalls, her only garment. "Don't you hold me under," she said, "and don't forget to hold my nose."

She stood on the cement edge of the pool.

"How deep's this thing?" she asked.

"Only about two feet," said Jem, and turned to Dill for confirmation. But Dill had left them. They saw him going like a streak toward Miss Rachel's house.

"Reckon he's mad?" she asked.

"I don't know. Let's wait and see if he comes back."

***

"Get out of there!" Miss Rachel screamed. "Come on, get out of there!"

"Cut it out, Aunt Rachel!" burbled Dill, his head half under water. "Gimme a chance!"

Dill rose from the pool like a small fantastical water monster, covered with green slime. A tendril of ivy curled around his head and neck. He shook his head violently to free himself, and Miss Rachel stepped back to avoid the spray of water.

Jean Louise followed him out. Her nose tingled horribly from the water in it, and when she sniffed it hurt.

Miss Rachel would not touch Dill, but waved him on with her switch, saying, "March!"

She and Jem watched the two until they disappeared inside Miss Rachel's house. She could not help feeling sorry for Dill.

"Let's go home," Jem said. "It must be dinnertime."

They turned in the direction of their house and looked straight into the eyes of their father. He was standing in the driveway.

Beside him stood a lady they did not know and Reverend James Edward Moorehead. They looked like they had been standing there for some time.

Atticus came toward them, taking his coat off. Her throat closed tight and her knees shook. When he dropped his coat over her shoulders she realized she was standing stark naked in the presence of a preacher. She tried to run, but Atticus caught her by the scruff of the neck and said, "Go to Calpurnia. Go in the back door."

Calpurnia scrubbed her viciously in the bathtub, muttering, "Mr. Finch called this morning and said he was bringing the preacher and his wife home for dinner. I yelled till I was blue in the face for you all. Why'nt you answer me?"

"Didn't hear you," she lied.

"Ought to be ashamed of yourselves, mortifyin' your daddy like that!" 

(From Harper Lee: GO SET A WATCHMAN)

Kishalay Sinha [G]

ZERO

God's universe does not revolve around one gal. All gals are frankly very insignificant nonentities to God. - G