In the morning pretty yellow laburnums burst upon your consciousness as you look up and a gentle breeze touches your skin, the way it touches the laburnums. We said “burst” with an element of violence in it. It is as though you are sharing a euphoria with the flowers and the sky. Come back to the room, turn on the air-conditioner to face a steady draught of cold breeze on your skin. Let the cold envelope you.Take a glass of cold water. The euphoria continues. A word strikes, a thought.

Euphoria has to subside. The word has to disappear. Thoughts have to lose focus. The sky is now white and hot. Where is the heightened perception in the senses, in the way your skin perked up and the goose-bumps? By the way, what is the color of euphoria? And temperature?

Wordsworth’s definition of poetry is emotion recollected in tranquility -is this the same thing as a wordy recollection of a recent euphoria or even a nerdy recollection, if you prefer? There is violence in emotion but tranquility in words as the nerd types on the keyboard. Poet-nerds have their own poems to type, so different from recollected thought of the good old bearded type. As they type, their poem happens.


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