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Happy birthday, Plum!

ashokbhatia

Many of the fans of P G Wodehouse suffer occasional pangs of anxiety. They fear that the species comprising the admirers of P G Wodehouse may soon become extinct. They suspect that not many of the younger generation may be getting infected enough with the delectable affliction of Wodehousitis, simply because his works belong to a bye-gone era which fails to connect with the youth of today.

When they sit down to relish the pleasures of the table, the food – even if it is dished out by a spouse who might be God’s gift to the gastric juices – simply turns into ashes in their mouths. Their brow is furrowed. They shudder at the prospect of a PGW-less society in the future, devoid of the pristine humour which makes one unwind after the harsh slings and arrows of Life have taken their toll. The human race, which is trying…

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Here is a juicy excerpt from Blandings Castle which fans of P G Wodehouse and Mahatma Gandhi may relish!

“It has sometimes seemed to me (said Mr Mulliner, thoughtfully sipping his
hot Scotch and lemon) that to the modern craze for dieting may be attributed
all the unhappiness which is afflicting the world to-day. Women, of course,
are chiefly responsible. They go in for these slimming systems, their sunny
natures become warped, and they work off the resultant venom on their menfolk.

“These, looking about them for someone they can take it out of, pick on
the males of the neighbouring country, who themselves are spoiling for a
fight because their own wives are on a diet, and before you know where you
are war has broken out with all its attendant horrors.

“This is what happened in the case of China and Japan. It is this that lies at
the root of all the unpleasantness in the Polish Corridor. And look at India.
Why is there unrest in India? Because its inhabitants eat only an occasional
handful of rice. The day when Mahatma Gandhi sits down to a good juicy
steak and follows it up with roly-poly pudding and a spot of Stilton you will
see the end of all this nonsense of Civil Disobedience.”

“Till then we must expect Trouble, Disorder … in a word, Chaos.”

 

(From the story ‘The Juice of an Orange’ by P G Wodehouse. Illustration of Mahatma Gandhi courtesy R K Laxman)

 

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In the horizon dark clouds of anxiety, problems and doubt gather,
My brow is furrowed and I don’t feel cheery when in the morning I lather;

Shaved and clean I put on my old and worn kurta and slip into my favourite chappals,
Solace I try to get by ringing some of my favourite Facebook penpals;

Unfortunately peace and calm eludes my worrying brain,
It causes me so much of worry and I can feel the pain;

Before I know it wearily I pick up Summer Lightning and sit on my armchair,
Very soon I come to the spot where Galahad clarifies on a part of his memoir;

I now realise anxiety and worry has been replaced by good cheer,
Energy fills my body as if I have drunk from a Mulliner elixir and have been blessed by a holy seer;

Next I am into where Ronald pinches the Emsworth prize pig,
Suddenly all my problems and worries don’t seem to be so big;

Very soon all is well with Ronnie and Sue,
The dark clouds have vanished and are replaced with a rosy hue;

As I near the end where Ronnie has given the Pilbeam a black eye,
I think Plum gives as much comfort as a malt with rye;

Before I know it lunch has been served with a tasty dessert,
No problem is so big that a reading of Jeeves, Psmith, or Blandings cannot make one’s feeling inert.

 

(Pradeep Swaminathan needs no introduction to fans of P G Wodehouse, upon whom he had recently unleashed a whodunit called ‘Enter Mrs Bertie‘. His consent to publish the above composition here is gratefully acknowledged.)

 

(Related Post: https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/11/27/why-do-we-turn-to-plum-when-the-mood-is-glum)

 

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ashokbhatia

The Honourable Secretary-General,

The United Nations,

New York City,

New York,

USA.

Respected Sir,

You may recall our brief interaction at the recent launch event of the International League of Happiness. You were then kind enough to spare a few moments of your precious time, graciously appreciating my talk there on preventing the misuse of Artificial Intelligence, just after releasing the Blandings Declaration of Happiness as a part of the proceedings.

As a concerned citizen of this planet of ours, allow me to offer my humble services for the cause of promoting international cooperation and maintaining international order.

Yours truly has an impeccable record in delivering satisfaction to all the employers one has been fortunate enough to assist so far in a long and spotless career. The aspiration hereafter is to offer my unique problem solving abilities for the benefit of all the denizens of this planet.

Permit me…

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P.G. Wodehouse fans are celebrating the wonderful news from Westminster Abbey, where a memorial stone in Poet’s Corner has been dedicated to the beloved author. You can read more about it here: Westminster Abbey Honours P G Wodehouse (Westminster Abbey) PG Wodehouse has plum spot in Westminster Abbey (Patrick Kidd, The Times) PG Wodehouse commemorated […]

via P.G. Wodehouse in Poets’ Corner, Westminster Abbey — Plumtopia

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Humor in the arts has a bad reputation. It’s not considered as worthy as drama. How many comedies have won the Oscar for Best Picture? Not many. Yet humor helps us throughout our lives. I think it’s a necessary quality to cultivate. The importance of humor in my life is enormous. I’ve suffered from anxiety […]

via Writing Tip — The Importance of Humor — JPC Allen Writes

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(Disclaimer : This composition is not by Ralston McTodd. But poets are, after all, also God’s creatures…)

 

 

I wish I could be Bertie, and let Jeeves do all the thinking
Whilst avoiding hard work – about it having no inkling,
I worship Ickenham’s horror of convention
And yet, often, am prevailed upon to avoid contention;

I yearn to saunter between tailor, bootmaker and hatter 
Rather than dentist and supermarket – whilst enduring boring chatter,
I dream of living in Blandings, superbly waited on by Beach
Unconcerned about rules I daily feel inclined to breach;

But, alas, one cannot live other’s lives – that’s our lot
And however irksome one’s existence, of it one cannot be shot,
So one must find solace in laughter, fellowship and books
To escape – however briefly – boredom’s nasty hooks;

And there is a place to go, unlike any other one
Which uplifting powers are huge, and cannot be undone,
Stemming not from order or discipline but, rather, farce and disaster
Recounted and made supremely enjoyable by the art of The Master;

So here’s to you, my fellow members of this most noble institution
Stalwarts of culture, wit, joy and laughter – genteel forms of revolution,
Where the burdens and anxieties are shed as one mocks
Spode’s brutality or even, say, one’s “less understated” socks…;

Unlike our Dover Street heroes we do spin and, indeed, must toil
But here, like them, we find peace and sanctuary – and can uncoil,
So I state with the utmost certainty, never having to recant or atone
That one of the greatest boons of life is this: being a Drone!

 

(Eduardo Garcia is a fuddy-duddy human salad, having been born in Rio, received an anglicized education and lived in the UK, Spain, Central Asia and Portugal. To complicate matters further, he is married to an American citizen – whose stepfather was a Dutchman – of Brazilian, English, U.S. and Greek extraction and his son lives and works in Denmark. This does not explain his liking for P.G Wodehouse, but may well have to do with his behaviour being often associated to some of the Master’s less mentally stable characters.)

(Visual courtesy Wikipedia)

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