ZULEKHA AND KHATIJA'S HOUSE DIVIDED CONTINUES

ZULEKHA AND KHATIJA'S HOUSE DIVIDED CONTINUES

Say you are willing to compromise

Say you are willing to calculate in your own favor any thing you

do in life and death and in the name of spirtuality.

Say, I give in your name oh! god and you return it to me a thousand time more.  Well that's really smart, that's really business like, so if you can be business like with god, then why not with the publisher?

Which publisher?

The one who will publish your book

Which book?

This book...this book, the one you have been telling us about,

the two sisters, twins, two different civilizations, IBSA and 

INJSA.  Remember?

That's not a book.  That's poetry and it's not fictional poetry.

It's a factual prose poem called, "Manhattan Spleen"

You see the poet lives in Manhattan, always lived in Manhattan

Left her ancestors behind and her graveyards in Babylon.

And that is the spine of the story and the spleen of the story

and that's why the writer keeps going back to the story

because her spine and her spleen is in Babylon and she is 

looking for it in Manhattan and that's why the story seems 

fragmented and broken and fragile and tender and falling off 

the bones and that's why I don't want to continue.

You are your own worst enemy.  Calculate and then sell.

Every one is calculating even the ones who are into god.

They are saying," God I will do this for you and you will do 

that for me" A bargain.  It's even spirtuality.  "Spirtuality of 

business"

BUT WHO IS IN BUSINESS? Not me.  I am a writer who is writing a metaphorical story of two civilizations by giving them female names. Isn't that great? In a world full of macho killer men.  I am making two great civilizations into women.

No one will get it.  No one will understand it.  No one will buy it.

I will just write it.

What good will that do?

Something positive to do..

You call this positive? Positive things make money

Money?  Where?

Into your hands.

I want my hands to be free...so that I can hold on to something when I am falling...it's in the air.  It comes from the sky. High above, boom, boom, boom and you are turned into smithreens..

and that's how it goes...in two different worlds of two different 

sisters.

You don't get it.

No, you don't get it. Let me tell you again.  The story I am telling you or at least trying to tell you is the story of two sisters, twins born centuries apart, one living in Babylon or she is Babylon herself and the other living in the most modern world called, New Jersy born exactly at the same moment...

I don't get it, how is that possible?

The reader says, the listner says...

It's possible.  It's a real story. It's metaphorical. It's both.

Metaphores don't sell.

You keep talking about selling.to know if Ibsa

Why would I sell my ancstors history?

Why would I sell their memory?

Why would I sell my memory? , "All I want is to send a letter to my memory every day."  'To my memory a letter sent." The fertility of my memory is troublesome so I put it in the letter every day.  That's all, That's all I want.  I just want to know if Ibsa gets my memory sealed in an envelop?