Rosa Benchez almost gives a lecture



Professor Rosa Benchez was in the staff-room at Mid-Rise-Jeans University collecting her mail and having coffee at 9.30  am on Monday morning after running 10 miles on her rowing machine.It rowed and she ran
How are you,Rosa? enquired Danny her  friend and colleague in the  School of Learning.
I’m feeling  extremely insignificant  today? she replied.I am giving a lecture on Semiotics and it’s those French people who use such idiotically complicated language.We all know that an object like a bird has to have a name before we can talk about it.
Well.,said Danny, I thought you’d just say,”In the pink” as  usual to my greeting,  so you must feel bad.Does each bird have to have its own name,he continued wonderingly?
Well,it depends on the context, she informed him  coolly and enigmatically.
First,if we are looking at birds as a class or set, they just need a name like “bird”.It could have been anything bit somehow it was” bird” that occurred like x  is used in algebra.We may just study one bird then we give it a number to identify it.That is its name
Danny gazed at her  beautiful bosom under her semi-transparent  pink blouse.Did  she dress like that on purpose  to provoke men or did she feel so insignificant that she didn’t realise anyone could see her purple  lace bra  and her green silk and wool thermal  vest with matching briefs, though fortunately they were invisible
Danny,I’m talking to you, she called sympathetically.Why are you quiet?
I dunno, the world  famous biologist replied.Maybe I am not quite here today.
You too,she murmured quietly ,like the stream in Little Walsingham by the ruined  Abbey.
Are you anxious about your lectures,she enquired softly and caringly?
No, not really ,he said tearing his eyes away from her  revealing clothing.
Is there a biological reason  why a scholar like Rosa would wear this unusually exciting outfit.
The truth was more mundane.Rosa bought her clothes in Sales and was indifferent to  the way men might feel seeing her like this.After all,did she notice if they wore  deep purple underpants that showed above their low rise jeans  or gold coins on a chain with matching earrings?
She only  looked at their faces while they naturally were drawn  to see what amazing  and colourful outfit she was wearing that day. and  what her lingeries looked like.
What did her partner feel?Had he left her for a woman who dressed in  thick beige  blouses and stockings with grey skirts?
To dress well takes time and Rosa did not give it enough although so far she had not lectured in a  string bikini nor an evening dress she had  found in  a jumble sale
These French people have made a fortune by re-labelling well know things  like birds as “signified”  and the word “bird” as a sign!
It reminded her of a sociologist who  got a large grant to see if women were more scared walking under a railway bridge at night if there were no streetlight there
The conclusion seems obvious.And that was what they proved “scientifically”
Statistics,numbers, that’s what journals want.
She went to her lecture room and turned on the lights.Eighty students gazed at her happily.She was the kindest and cleverest lecturer in the place.Take that how you will.
Now, she informed them,I  put 30 handouts in Dr Bevan-Finnish’s drawer  for the seminar but someone has stolen them, she said menacingly.I write these handouts and if they do not appear by noon ,nobody will get another one for the entire semester
With that, she turned to the blackboard and defined ” the signifier”
Well,it’s better than taking the insides out of chickens  on a conveyor belt she thought silently as she moaned on while the students took notes.
After lunch Rosa was in the staff room talking to some women  colleagues when Dr Bevan -Finnish came over,blushing dark  red as he approached.He said the handouts were back
Why  is he so shy, Rosa asked herself,not realising it was her outfit that provoked his blushes.And that is a very important thing to remember… whoever we are with  affects us so a bold man like Bevan-Finnish seemed shy when with Rosa whereas with another more sensibly dressed  woman he was quite at ease.
There may be a few men who are not affected this way but not many otherwise the human race would die out and then where would we be?Nowhere!
What a pity nobody tells a lady like Rosa the facts of life so   she goes about causing sinful longings in her colleagues quite oblivious.Even some of the women were getting affected but nobody dared to tell her.At least it drew  students  to her lectures and who knows, they might have learned some Linguistics as well.And it kept them off the streets.Which streets nobody knows.Yet!



October 14, 2016

noun NEM-uh-siss


1 a : one that inflicts retribution or vengeance

b : a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent

2 a : an act or effect of retribution

b : a source of harm or ruin : curse


“My nemesis was a young woman who, at the end of the film, had the honour of sending me to my doom at the bottom of a well. Her name meant nothing to me then: Jennifer Aniston.” — Warwick Davis,, 10 Apr. 2010

“The leaves were pale … and, upon closer inspection, the stems had small nibble marks on them. I immediately suspected slugs since they’ve been my nemesis in the past so I sprang into action.” — Susan Mulvihill, The Spokesman Review (Spokane, Washington), 21 Aug. 2016

Did You Know?

Nemesis was the Greek goddess of vengeance, a deity who doled out rewards for noble acts and punishment for evil ones. The Greeks believed that Nemesis didn’t always punish an offender immediately but might wait generations to avenge a crime. In English, nemesis originally referred to someone who brought a just retribution, but nowadays people are more likely to see animosity than justice in the actions of a nemesis.



You then revealed the face within your face
Tender,gentle, vulnerable and kind
Yet rarely do you feel secure or safe
Outside the sacred space of your own mind.

The look  eludes  the words  that might   describe
So rare  to let another see  our soul.
And when we ask,  the vulnerable defy
Sacred is the place  and high the toll

With pathos in your eyes, you went away
I  was standing on the platform by the train.
Unmoving,still,  I stood in silent prayer
As if you were near death and all was vain.

We hide ourselves  in fear of  wounds too deep,
Yet, all alone, the price may be too steep