Campus races to photocopy, scan, fix, finish art in all its forms and features have begun, so here are some images of Hampi, a deserted little hippie-temple-rock town, and of my mental state in Bangalore, pre-MUWCI-return to races and running and typing at double-speed.
As for the rest of life, INC is coming up, which means the selection of the 'new generation' of Indian UWC kids, and I'm still only adjusting, readjusting and actually just settling in to the continuous changes of pace that make this place so exhaustingly interesting. In the last week alone, our headmaster resigned, Mamma Mia (the musical) was performed with much gusto and extravagance, and mock exams rounded off with a dull thud and the gradual pain as we realise that we may just have to study sometime soon. Maybe.
Besides all that, here's a poem from the book I'm so successfully concealing myself with in the last picture.
Love from a sunny India!
Kid // Simon Armitage
Batman, big shot, when you gave the order
to grow up, then let me loose to wander
leeward, freely through the wild blue yonder
as you liked to say, or ditched me, rather,
in the gutter ... well, I turned the corner.
Now I've scotched that 'he was like a father
to me' rumour, sacked it, blown the cover
on that 'he was like an elder brother'
story, let the cat out on that caper
with the married woman, how you took her
downtown on expenses in the motor.
Holy robin-redbreast-nest-egg-shocker!
Holy roll-me-over-in the-clover,
I'm not playing ball boy any longer
Batman, now I've doffed that off-the-shoulder
Sherwood-Forest-green and scarlet number
for a pair of jeans and crew-neck jumper;
now I'm taller, harder, stronger, older.
Batman, it makes a marvellous picture:
you without a shadow, stewing over
chicken giblets in the pressure cooker,
next to nothing in the walk-in larder,
punching the palm of your hand all winter,
you baby, now I'm the real boy wonder.
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