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Friday, July 15, 2005

Prologue and the Hostlers' Tale, by Me as Chaucer

Prologue and the Hostlers' Tale has been written in 'kind of' Chaucerian language, and so would be understood only by those who have read Geoffrey Chaucer

Whan in that September did it to me suite
That I joined hem as the goone on the same route.
Now whan this journey is about to ende
To write about my compaignye I tende.
To tellen you that in hostelrye
We were well eight in compaignye.
Now I woulde tellen you all the condicioun
Of each of hem with good resoun,
Who and in what arraye were they inne
And with a gyant wol I first begynne.
1. THE GYANT (Zubair)
A gyant ther was and that a worthy man
To tellen you of hym here my tale begynne.
To speken of his arraye,
That whan he was in hostelrye
He was alway neat and tidye.
Now to tellen you of hys habits__
Meeke he certainly was with oother
Like the ox kept awaye from fodder.
And to tellen you of hys efficiencye
A tortoise he woulde beat certainlye.
A ‘booty’ he was and woulde beat everyone,
And often with bent neck would leave anone.
And this gyant was verray healthy
Except that hys nose sniffled usually.
Now I feer the gyant may become full of wrath
So I’d telle you more of hym naught.
2. SAM (Kashif)
With this gyant, ther was another one
An ogre he was though he seemed humane.
Whan that he wore shirt, tie and pante
He woulde talk only of Englonde and Frankforte.
But whan that he was in hostelrye
He woulde weer ‘kachha’ and move freely.
Now to tellen you more about hym__
That whan he ate, he finished in seconds few
And alway left the plate almost new,
No single morsel woulde he spare,
While eating rice he looked certainly fair.
And whan that he woulde sleepe
He seemed like a crocodile woulde creepe.
Some people woulde call hym Sam
Often he behaved like a kid in pram.
A byg mouth had he,
Full round lyke the moon,
Often he woulde get angry anone
So more of hym I woulde say none.
3. BHIRA (Abu Bakar)
A Bhira ther was and that a strange man
That from the tyme whan he first began
He wanted to know every single detail
And why he woulde fall ill is another tale.
A verray goode nose had he
Hidden anything from hym you coulde never keep.
A good player of cricket he was
But beside cricketer, a player he also was.
Interest in decorum he always kepte
Though usually he was at other’s door-stepe.
A verray hospitable man was he
And guests woulde he receive usually.
And well knoon was he at college and hostelrye
A great man lyke hym you woulde find rarelye.
Now I hear a knock at my own door,
I feer its Bhira, so I woulde say na moore.
4. ADDY (Zaman)
A Sheikhupurya was in this compaignye
Hys body as slim as a daisye.
Whan that he moved, he looked an adder
To tellen you more, he was Bhira’s brother.
And whan that he woore beret__ the cape,
He looked a serpent in dense crope.
Success had he at college in final yeer
But the girl had some head injury I feer.
Often woulde he visit the hockey ground
And he was certainly well knoon around.
And whan that he was in hostelrye
He wore a neat arraye certainlye.
The same dress woulde he weer for full month
And brushed hys teeth on every tenth.
Still he sat in compaignye, I don’t know how
He used a good perfume, I trow.
A religious man certainly was he
But stick to one point never coulde he.
And he ate na moore than a crowe
Let me tellen you, we also had a Don sparwe.
5. DON (Shabbir)
A sparwe ther also was and that a byg man
That from the time whan he first began
He learnt to tease everythhyng he foond,
To tellen you more, he was an expert ‘bhoond’.
A madame he certainly lyked of Physics Department,
In hostelry he had once a byg compartment.
He woulde never go into dark in hostelrye
I trow he had some terrible childhood memorye.
And alle hys friends were byg gyants
Though hymself seemed a counsellor of ants.
In class he woulde hardly speeke
Whan that he said ‘yes’ in voice meeke.
But he spak the loudest in hostelrye
He had a byg motor in smallen bodye.
He woulde tease every oother,
But whan himself teased, woulde callen hys mother.
He went to mosque certainlye
But missed to visit anarkali rarelye.
Of everything he woulde know exact pryce
Whether shirt, pant, vegetable or ryce.
He had been into business I thynk,
Hys beloved was ‘Pynky’ and hymself pynk.
To see a smallen girl he woulde never wynk
He was just a kyd his parents woulde thynk.
A ‘kachha’ woulde he weer in hostelrye
And a Khan woulde be around hys room usuallye.
A doctor he was and helped every patient he woulde fynde,
What I’ve tellen of hym he woulde never mynde.
He was a worthy man with alle
‘Geendi’ some others woulde also hym calle.
Now Don giveth me an angry calle
I suppose he is in hostelrye’s mess-halle.
6. QADRIE (Afzal)
A Qadrie ther was of mini-block
Hys bodye iron and hys hands rock,
Hys eyes seemed to me a bit narwe
He was teased a lot by Don sparwe.
Ther was in hys head a hairless patch
He woulde raze the wall with head in one scratch.
A verray simple man was he atte beste
But na moore simple than sparwe’s neste.
Tried had he at college once or twice
To tellen more, he had a kyd verray nyce.
In mess he woulde never let go the supplye
He ne nast missed the notes to photocopye.
Several bottles of water woulde he drynk everyday
It was quite free in hostelrye oothers woulde say.
And whan the language of Englonde he woulde speeke
That seemed hot lyke gravy from cauldron leeke.
I wonder why he smyled to himself usually
In hostelrye we called hym Qadrie.
7. OLD MAN (Sarwar)
And ther was an old man
It’s unknown since how long he began
To liven on earth and cause feer
As he had conducted an election in final yeer.
It was strange what hys candidate did
Of the previous CR he coulde not get rid.
In hostelrye he was certainly well knoon
Once after a fight with Bhira he reconciled soon.
And hys poetry was good certainlye
But verray complex so one read rarelye.
A good writer that whan he wrote tragedye
It seemed to me a comedye.
And he plans to write a book anone
I am sure it would be dislyked by none.
A verray nice man was he to talk
And certainly elegant in walk.
A pious man also was he
And woulde move to Civil Line Hostel in adversity.
I hope I must stop telling of hym now
He is heading for oother hostelrye, I trow.
Now I have toold you in a clause
Their state, arraye and eek the cause,
And why that assembled was this compaignye
In Ewing Hall the hostelrye.
I pray you of your courtesye
That you ne nast regard it my villainye
That I toold you of hem plainly
And how they behaved actually.
Now you know how at college and hostelrye they stoned
My wit is short, ye may well understonde.

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Shahan Khan said...

Hello! I was just surfing and came across your blog. This is a nice piece of work. Not exactly the Chaucerian language but its a good attempt and thats why I appreciate it. I don't personally know the characters discussed here, but I feel it must have been an interesting gathering.

The poem "The Poor Tree" is really fascinating too.

Anonymous said...

Just want to say what a great blog you got here!
I've been around for quite a lot of time, but finally decided to show my appreciation of your work!

Thumbs up, and keep it going!

Christian, iwspo.net

Chutzpah said...

Great composition