31 July 2012 at 18:32
DUSTY DISTANCE
One of the stories the Blue Donkey tells- there is a controversy
about whether to classify it as a fact or a fiction-is about the first
time she set off on a long dusty road to make her fortune. In no time at
all, she met a woman who offered her a carrot, a place to stay and an
occupation. 'no thank u ' replied the Blue Donkey. 'you see i am a poet,
and i have a long way to go.' 'wht is a poet?' enquired the woman. This
so disconcerted the Blue Donkey that she muttered and mumbled and
managed to utter a hasty good bye and marched onwards. In consequence
she nearly ran down a fellow wayfarer.
The Blue Donkey apologised profusely, and to show that she was
genuinely sorry and genuinely interested she asked him who he was and
what he was doing and what was his purpose. 'oh' he answered sternly, 'i
am on my way to encounter Life. When i find her, i shall take her by
the throat and grapple with her'. 'And then?' asked the Blue Donkey,
enthralled by this account in spite of herself. 'And them i shall bind
her hand and foot and take her home.' 'And then?' The Blue Donkey was
almost whispering now. 'And then,' he responded magnificently, 'i shall
chop her up and grind her down and put her into delicate mince pies
which shall go on the market at fourspence a dozen.' His teeth were
gleaming. He turned on her. ' And who r u?' he enquired suddenly. ' Oh, I
am only a poet,' the Blue Donkey murmured with what she considered
suitable modesty. But her fellow traveller grew highly indignant. '
Rubbish' he cried. 'I am a poet. Why u? U r only a bit of Life ' As he
said this, his eyes grew round with speculation. The Blue Donkey didnt
wait for more. She says that her readers can all her coward if they
like, bt she galloped off fast and left him behind in the dusty
distance.
Eventually the countryside grew greener. There were landscaped
gardens, immaculate woods, and in one of these woods there was a
Beautiful Lady reclining gracefully against a convenient trunk. She was
reading a book. As the Blue Donkey approached, the Lady looked up and
smiled at her. 'Hello' said the Blue Donkey. 'what are you reading?'
'Poetry,' sighed d Lady. 'I think poetry is so beautiful. I feel i could
live on poetry and fresh air forever.! The Blue Donkey edged closer.
She said, ' Well, as it happens, i am a poet. Perhaps you would like me
to recite some of my verse.' 'Oh. Oh no' the Lady replied hastily, then
she recovered herself. ' The fact is, ' she explained, ' Though i have
studied many languages and my French and German are both excellent, i
have never mastered Blue Donkese. And though i have no doubt whatsoever
that your poems are excellent, i fear they would fall on untutored ears.
' ' But please, i speak English. ' The Blue Donkey could hear herself
sounding plaintive. ' Oh ' murmured the Lady. ' But surely as a Blue
Donkey, integrity requires that you paint the world as it appears to
you. And consider: what have a lady and a donkey in commen? '
' Nothing at all, ' said the Blue Donkey sadly and she turned away
and traced her steps. At last she came to the door of the woman she had
first encountered. "Please, " she enquired humbly, "Would you settle for
a part-time worker for half a carrot? "
. . .SUNITEE NAMJOSHI
