cleaning time and Kailasam

Once a year or so, I make an attempt to clean and re arrange the small book case that we have. The intention would be to dispose off the books that have been lying un touched for years along with the redundant pamphlets and booklets which will have found a place there, clear the dust accumulated on the books, segregate the kannada and English books,
arrange the ‘favourites’ in a separate row, etc etc.
I start the work, take out and dust the books from the first shelf and the next, segregate some books prior to ‘proper arrangement’ and find myself at the centre, with piles of books, dusting cloth, discarded pamphlets and booklets surrounding me, and the dust settling around, along with ‘dustwool’ gently swirling in the breeze from the fan.
Then I open some book which I will have enjoyed reading dozens of times and randomly turn pages. I will invariably find some interesting passage or situation and start reading it again. When the phone or the doorbell rings or when a shout is heard enquiring if I have finished with the cleaning, I realise that I am yet to finish the second shelf and six more are pending. I put back all the books in the shelf in a hurry - minus the dust, and make it a point to start and finish the work at the earliest opportunity. I start the same exercise nearly after a year – with similar results.
I just repeated the exercise today. The book I opened was the complete works of Sri T P Kailasam. Born 1885. Sri. Kailasam was the son of Justice Paramashiva aiyyar. He was a geologist by training. He studied geology and graduated in England. Learnt as much, if not more, of English literature and foot ball. Was a fan of the Victorian body builder, Eugen Sandow and became an expert body builder. Retuned to India, spent some time(very little in fact) in mining, and spent all his remaining life in a room behind his father’s bungalow always surrounded by fans, eager to hear his witty words or just be with him. I gather that he had a magical personality.
His works include seventeen kannada plays, four English plays based on characters in Mahabharata, Seven kannada poems, five kannada stories, and about fifteen English poems. I have enjoyed his writings in kannada immensely but most of his english goes over my head. He did not actually 'write' any! All his works were recited by him through the night, himself lying on the bed and were written down by his close friends who knew his worth and gave up their sleep for the pleasure of listening to him and preserving his thoughts. The following is one that is with in my reach and which I have liked.

The Recipe

Into a bare handful of bones and skin
Pour just an ounce or so of flesh and blood
Put in a heart love-full as SEA in flood
Likewise a mind sea-deep and free from sin
Fix on two jumbo ears….two goo goo eyes
Paint on a smile of babe at mothers’ breast
Inclose a soul that caps Himavats’ crest
And speaks with tongue which honeys’ sweet defies!

“The stuffing?”: Goat’s milk, soya beans and dates
Now, cover to brim with suff’ring human’s tears
And bake this dish in gaol for one score years
Take out and “garnish” it with pariah mates
Wrap up in a rag, prop up with lithe bamboo
And serve: the world Redeemer : Our Bapoo!