Analysis of No Formality
I hated flamboyant parties; strident and sleazy music diffusing from the contemporary discotheque,
I hated drinking mineral water in scintillating glasses of silver; sighting my reflection in polished exteriors of the same,
I hated swanky cars transporting me at whizzing speeds; embellished attendants spuriously smiling; inviting me to enter the same,
I hated glittering restaurants adorned with a festoon of lights; waiters making their clients laugh; just for the sake of being showered with exorbitant tips,
I hated the overwhelmingly scented businessman; whose ideals infact smelt more than the most rotten stack of sewage,
I hated the word thank you; when the person uttering it actually had intentions of killing you; profoundly lurking in his eyes,
I hated masticating my food infinite times before gulping; an armory of intricate knives and oval shaped spoons laid meticulously on the table,
I hated it when someone welcomed me with a myriad of garlands and golden coins; ordered a battalion of attendants to fan me; at every step I took,
I hated going up the hill in shimmering escalators; when infact the meandering pathways would drown me into a state of mystical enchantment,
I hated sitting in the air-conditioned room; with scores of commercial delegates blowing ostentatious wisps of smoke; obnoxiously into thin air,
I hated shaking hands without any sense; as a stream of visitors kept barging in
the colony all day,
I hated speaking baselessly and in deliberate slang; when infact the rustic language of my country was splendidly enough to express my feelings; put me in unprecedented ease at all times,
I hated nibbling tangy gum and acting snobbish; youngsters who blew their fathers money; without the slightest of contemplation and hesitancy,
I hated the conventional ways of marriage with people from distant countries thronging in; when infact the hearts of those tying the thread were poles apart,
I hated the toothbrush with an ensemble of curves and spongy rubber; when infact I had the medicinal branches of the blossoming Neem tree; to clean my teeth and
my cheeks,
I hated individuals who praised me; escalated me to the pinnacle of Everest with their flattery; when infact there was a river of prejudice flowing in their flesh everywhere; instead of crimson blood,
I hated the priests who propagated only their respective religions; when infact God was omnipresent; and resided in every heart and soul,
I hated all those parents who spoke to their children in English instead of their own indigenous languages; just because it was prevalent like wild fire all over the globe,
I hated artificial sweetener added to juice; when infact its original flavor was incredulously ravishing to sip and relish,
Well until now I presume; you must have already understood what sort of a person was I; and for those of you who have not; let me tell you; that I was a man who hated all kinds of bombastic pretensions; infact a man of no formality.
Scheme | X A A X X X X X X X XX X B XXX X X X X B |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11001010100101001010010010 110101001001101101010100100100101 11010101011101010010110010111001 11010010011011110101101110111010101001 110001001010101111101101110 1100111101010011001010110101010011 11011110010110110011001010111010001010 1101111011010011010110001010101111100111 1101010101001001100100111101011100010 110100010101111010101001011110111 1101010110110111001100 010011 11010100010011101010111011000110111011001001111 110100110101010111101001010101001000 110001001110110110101011011110010101 11001011010110101011110010010101001111110 11 1100100111100110100110011100111101011001001110011101 110011100101010010111101000100100101 110111011111001001111010010010111100111011001 11001010010111110100101110011010 1011101111010011110101101111111111111101110111010010101110100 |
Characters | 2,965 |
Words | 490 |
Sentences | 1 |
Stanzas | 19 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 1, 1, 3, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 |
Lines Amount | 22 |
Letters per line (avg) | 110 |
Words per line (avg) | 22 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 127 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 26 |
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"No Formality" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/50699/no-formality>.
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