|Google images: DH Lawrence|
I am writing this sitting uncomfortably in a sweat-filled, grime-filled and people-filled bus chiefly because I owe a post to DH Lawrence and can't wait till I reach home (or till the home reaches me).
I gave myself two hours of DH Lawrence last evening on the eve of this exam I am returning from (MA entrance in Jadavpur University for Comparative Literature) and just as I had expected, just as I had envisioned, he filled me up with everything a pupil can expect of his teacher.
When you read the kind of classic that Lawrence writes, you become so full of words, so full of vocabulary and so full of refinedly structured sentences that you feel never at a loss for words.
For someone on the brink of the most vital exam of his life, such a state is a state of utopia, a scenario of complete perfection or near-perfection as in my case.
If I top this exam, which I think I should, I shall be eternally indebted to Lawrence and his Lady Chatterley.
My indebtedness also owes itself to Brita aunty, Sneha Isabella Sharma, Tanisha Chatterjee and Sreetama Ghoshal for their helpful inputs over the past few days. I hope to be perennially grateful to them despite the fact that hope is a dangerously unreliable thing. :)
19th May, 2014