Week Twenty: Movie Review: Absolutely Fabulous

Absolutely Fabulous

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By The Eaghams 

We enjoyed watching the Ab Fab movie. It's a fun-loving movie that's the right side of silly and witty jokes that were really cool. It was a crescendo of art and beauty, casualness, and freedom, the music at the end seems moving in it's humor and romanticism of ideals and what life is all about, it's an inadvertent insight in the real wisdom of the two jesters...it seems they've kept so much of their past and memories with them, the hippie ideals that are far from dimwitted. They've stayed true to their culture that they grew up with and it's what middle age could be like for some people, even though they are amongst a new generation, they never compromise themselves. They could probably even roll with man's dem.

It seems the past has much to teach us in our own lives. That we can't forget what we are no matter how old fashioned it may seem, but old fashioned it aint...rich in content is what makes it what it is. It puts thought with glamour, beauty with truth. It's a triumph of the 60s from a fresh perspective, the present.

I'd rather have the past generations be like the Absolutely Fabulous hippies than the typical fifties type, I have written a piece about.

© Zubyre Parvez 2016 All Rights Reserved

The EaghamsWRITER BIO: Zubyre Parvez (BA hons) studied English Literature at Hertfordshire University. He writes song lyrics, poetry, short stories, reviews, and articles for The Taoist Crucible.  His poetry won runners up in a competition judged by Simon Armitage and Margaret Atwood. His poetry has been published in Kobita. His articles have appeared in The Epoch Times as a journalist for the newspaper. He has worked for New Tang Dynasty Television as a journalist. You can catch up with his tweets @TheEaghams
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A Street Show in Paris by Gabriel Jacques De Saint Aubin
Gabriel_Jacques_de_Saint-Aubin_-_A_Street_Show_in_Paris_(La_Parade_du_Boulevard)_-_WGA20657
 Source: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/dc/Gabriel_Jacques_de_Saint-Aubin_-_A_Street_Show_in_Paris_%28La_Parade_du_Boulevard%29_-_WGA20657.jpg

By The Eaghams 

Raw Aesthete
 

No man is an island

John Donne

The man rests, his heart informs the piece
 Under the canopy of trees that curve
 As arch like the parasol shade
 The woman dons all breezy and free
 There is war, there is love in this heart
 There are colours, there is vigour
 In their upright air
 There is a fine spectacle such as this
 Under the vault of the trees and
 Of heaven
 Shoulder blades and swords
 Find the painters brush.

© Zubyre Parvez 2016 All Rights Reserved

The EaghamsWRITER BIO: Zubyre Parvez (BA hons) studied English Literature at Hertfordshire University. He writes song lyrics, poetry, short stories, reviews, and articles for The Taoist Crucible.  His poetry won runners up in a competition judged by Simon Armitage and Margaret Atwood. His poetry has been published in Kobita. His articles have appeared in The Epoch Times as a journalist for the newspaper. He has worked for New Tang Dynasty Television as a journalist. You can catch up with his tweets @TheEaghams

The Parisian is never indifferent to what goes on around him and the slightest new thing will stay his steps. A man has but to direct his gaze upwards and appear to observe something attentively and you will see others stop to look also. The crowd gathers and everyone is asking what there is to be seen…Street performers and quacks draw an audience at the first motion, though it melts away as quickly as it forms and the wandering crowd in the street is made up chiefly from the outskirts, of people little familiar with their surroundings ot those who like to waste their employers time. Examine any group; out of a hundred there will be forty servants and nearly as many apprentices.

From The Picture of Paris Louis Sebastian Mercier 1788




1.Prospect Calendar

Recorded at Hasting Old Studios in 2015,

Engineered by Del.



Download from MediaFire:

http://www.mediafire.com/download/xtzjw5x1d2raxt1/Prospect_Calendar_%40TheEagleHamlets

Download Count: 367

12512349_1050422538313827_7197610366052975576_n
 BIO:The Eaghams aka Zubyre Parvez is an Indie singer songwriter from London. His song The Roots was played on BBC 1Xtra by DJ Excalibuh. He has collaborated such as Mr Hectic, ath Jason Air formerly of Island records. He has played at The Garage, and various open mics.

Short Story No.5: Imtiaz by The Eaghams

Imtiaz 

Blogpost written by The Eaghams 

This short story explores British-Asian identities in London, the generational gap between the previous generation who emigrated from Bangladesh and the British-Asian youth born in England. The style of this short story includes satirical insights, and reflections on these people.    

His dad was strict to a fault, always, judging and mocking his son, staring at him, so that anger had built inside of him. What about what I want to do? Thought Imtiaz. He was obliged to carry on in the family business as an introverted expression and token of love, actively. The restaurant, a waiter, to help his dad who insisted he did so. He felt that at home with the set up, the terrace built conversion since the 70s. 

His views were as limited as the window panes in his small room. He felt frustrated but believed what he did, he was secure. He was well established, cemented foundations. His dad insisted he took 'serious' subjects at school and university when he sat down to talk to him. His dad believed severely that a degree in the History of Art, or The Classics, would not gain employment, when careers are so varied and creative these days. His father's strictness showed a kind of limited view which robbed his son of the richness of all possibilities and freeing the artist that lay dormant in him.

His dad kept the same decor over the years,attesting to his being set in his ways. He joked about charging extra money to his customers in the restaurant, who were of a similar mindset. Although he loved money, he didn't love life enough to splash out every so often and have a merry time. A cheapness attributed to Asians who would come from abroad, who were practical, hoarding plastic bags, brick-a-brack, in their lofts. He had too much in the way of this baggage. He had such an eye for a bargain, always brought in other relatives in business for the cheapest deal, always the warehouse and the market deals where things were done on the cheap. Had not the affluent Middle East inspired him with all it's new structures and architectures and all it's splendour? Holidays were holy days, from which the word originally came from: they only went on holidays to countries of their faith. There were airers available yet they still hung their clothes on pegs indoors, the biscuits were limited to 'toast', when there was a dazzling assortment in the supermarkets. His sister had imitated the melodramatic attitudes of Indian cinema in the fifties, accentuating a self pitying and weak attitude in Asian women. She was given an arranged marriage, it was fairly amicable, a Pride and Prejudice introductions thing, not just a mere formality.

The Eaghams Weekly: Short Story No.5: Imtiaz by The Eaghams

Imtiaz 

Blogpost written by The Eaghams 

This short story explores British-Asian identities in London, the generational gap between the previous generation who emigrated from Bangladesh and the British-Asian youth born in England. The style of this short story includes satirical insights, and reflections on these people.    

His dad was strict to a fault, always, judging and mocking his son, staring at him, so that anger had built inside of him. What about what I want to do? Thought Imtiaz. He was obliged to carry on in the family business as an introverted expression and token of love, actively. The restaurant, a waiter, to help his dad who insisted he did so. He felt that at home with the set up, the terrace built conversion since the 70s. 

His views were as limited as the window panes in his small room. He felt frustrated but believed what he did, he was secure. He was well established, cemented foundations. His dad insisted he took 'serious' subjects at school and university when he sat down to talk to him. His dad believed severely that a degree in the History of Art, or The Classics, would not gain employment, when careers are so varied and creative these days. His father's strictness showed a kind of limited view which robbed his son of the richness of all possibilities and freeing the artist that lay dormant in him.

His dad kept the same decor over the years,attesting to his being set in his ways. He joked about charging extra money to his customers in the restaurant, who were of a similar mindset. Although he loved money, he didn't love life enough to splash out every so often and have a merry time. A cheapness attributed to Asians who would come from abroad, who were practical, hoarding plastic bags, brick-a-brack, in their lofts. He had too much in the way of this baggage. He had such an eye for a bargain, always brought in other relatives in business for the cheapest deal, always the warehouse and the market deals where things were done on the cheap. Had not the affluent Middle East inspired him with all it's new structures and architectures and all it's splendour? Holidays were holy days, from which the word originally came from: they only went on holidays to countries of their faith. There were airers available yet they still hung their clothes on pegs indoors, the biscuits were limited to 'toast', when there was a dazzling assortment in the supermarkets. His sister had imitated the melodramatic attitudes of Indian cinema in the fifties, accentuating a self pitying and weak attitude in Asian women. She was given an arranged marriage, it was fairly amicable, a Pride and Prejudice introductions thing, not just a mere formality.

The Eaghams Weekly: Short Story No.21: Samuel The Philosopher by The Eaghams



Samuel The Philosopher

Some cool East London slang features in this one. It's about Samuel The Philospher, a character you come across in London, that's a beguiling combination of being cool, and knowledgable that you get with the hip hop folks, who don't put on the air of being in the know or particularly intellectual.The Eaghams.   
 
He was an absent-minded fellow when he was young but his word was good as gold, who picked up information around him first before what was said, that got in the way of what he was hearing from a given person, at times, especially, girls, whose emotions were all over the shop, or aggressive men who were too emotional, it made his eyes glaze over.



Source: http://allthe2048.com
 
There was more information in all the clairvoyant like detail around him, so he would naturally take more time for a given task, dismissed by most as ignorant and vague, by the go getters...oh, they only rushed but never paused to consider any subtleties of a given situation to enlighten to. This slowed them down in the long run, and led to a lack of knowledge on their part. It was only a decade after they tired themselves out and wasted resources, that they saw the error of their multitasking ways of greed and excessive gossip.

He seemed like he was zoned out, and would stay stuff like he didn't know where in the universe he was from whilst peering down at his Reeboks. He wore an Akademiks top Some people thought it was because he was lazy, leisurely dressed with baggy jeans, some people thought he smoked weed because he was never serious, joking in his deep baritone voice. He thought deeply to the point that he lacked common sense to the bespectacled  (double glazing) crime bosses of Beckton, who were impeccably pragmatic and practical in their directives, who were calm and collected but with a fire that could be unleashed. They knew how to control themselves, it was too bait to be otherwise, they would have got caught by feds.

One of them was at a restaurant talking in a low voice and greeting the middle class customers who dressed in strict neatness and had tennis wear (including sporting tennis shoes, they were never lazy wearing trainers) for their friendly tennis tournaments on Saturday mornings, with discreet courtesy and a surprising kind of respect, as if on the watch for any coppers. Samuel didn't find out his name over the course of the dishes time.
 
When he did get his act together in a life where there are no dress rehearsals, he forged his way. It was so superb the stuff he came out with, that people wondered in amazement. He knew exactly how to phrase a given particular, and he knew the principles of things without even appearing at the scene. People thought he was clueless, but he obviously knew what he knew. That's why he didn't bother with a lot of people, he had been there, done that, had that conversation, acquired that lesson, done that degree listening to poised lecturers, traveled to that domain on the internet, or had visited the region on his travels simply by train and plane and contemplation of the peoples there. He would often hang out with Jake, that is, when Jake had an opportunity, he would ring Samuel. 
 
If you enjoyed this post, you can check out further short stories in this series by clicking the following titles:
  1.  Anish
  2.  Agnieska
  3. Catherine
  4. Mustapha
  5. Boy from Bath
  6. Actor Dude
  7. Imtiaz
  8. © Zubyre Parvez 2017 All Rights Reserved
  9. WRITER BIO: Zubyre Parvez (BA hons) studied English Literature at Hertfordshire University. He writes song lyrics, poetry, short stories, reviews, and articles for The Eaghams.  His poetry won runners up in a competition judged by Simon Armitage and Margaret Atwood. His poetry has been published in Kobita. His articles have appeared in The Epoch Times as a journalist for the newspaper. He has worked for New Tang Dynasty Television as a journalist. You can catch up with his tweets @TheEaghams

The Londoners

The Londoners is a quintessential collection of stories that tell stories that are inspired by London and it’s eclectic mix of peoples from all walks of life, narrated by the British-Asian novelist. Each short story can be relished in it’s own full right, however, these stories are interconnected and you can read the work as a whole as a complete work. Vernacular, class, satire abound in this powerful collection of short stories, that explore the written art form with a powerful expressivity. 

The Londoners Short Story No.22: Little John by The Eaghams

Little John
Blogpost written by The Eaghams 



Little John is a classic story about a memorable character making great use of the motif travel imagery that runs throughout his work. There are some wonderful poetic and lyrical turns of phrase in this one.

To continue reading the interconnected short stories click on the characters included in this short story with a hyperlink.Timothy. Enjoy!
 
Little John, younger brother of Timothy, was in a relationship with a women in her thirties, he was age twenty eighteen. She hadn't disclosed the exact figure, her age, although he got to know all about her when they were spending time together. Little John wasn't as athletic as the other boys and was a sensitive intellectual. They talked about romantic trips to Venice and the yearning Qawalli music of the Middle East. She was animated he was imaginative using witty asides as part of his speech - that was their conversational styles, in fact.

He thought she was his prize. He was at an age where eating chicken shawarmas at the upmarket Moroccan restaurant and other grilled foods were more important to him than any other delicacies. He was earnest, untainted by disappointment, he always showed up on time. So when she went AWOL on his ass, there was no time to spell it out to him, the reasons why, on a scheduled date for the Saturday, he was at a loss as to how to respond. Her phone he left wailing messages, that were absurd in their melodramatic tone, that he used up all her recording space for messages, it should be noted. He decided he liked her slick antics and vowed never to be innocent again. He was on the phone to his friend Greg, he had the phone on his shoulder gazing out his window at the traffic lights. 



Source: www.mercedes-benz.co.uk

He took a girl for a ride with his cerebral games, she drove a Mercedez Benz. She let him drive it sometimes around the city, sometimes at night when there was an open and free road, or in the early hours. One day he took the car for a spin, turning the car round, a 180...as they call it and sped off to make a new life in the city. His new friend awaited him, he was single, shrewd, and he was not looking to settle for anything, haste drove him. Caroline ate at the restaurant, a steaming dish, fine and proper, was brought out by the waiter, and her company? Her own. She was moving up in her new job, a new world, that Little John could only wantonly be in envy of. Little John had a terrible temper that shook up their relationship, so she looked the other way, they were not seeing eye to eye, such was the state of things. He was chewing the fat of a bitter ambition, to be a lucrative young buck, a big shot, making an untold fortune, he was already at the executive level in a New York company, he was in Big Business, when he was with Caroline, a native New Yorker who was a bit crass.  
 
What John really wanted was to be like Caroline: He never imagined someone who was so kind, could suddenly change their tune. Before, it seemed like she was the only dude she would treat nicely, because he seemed trustworthy, and he saw her other side only play out with all the other men, never with him before. It was the combination of tact and severity that overthrew him and created a jealous admiration of her personal power and her wealth she didn't disclose to him.

He didn't drive home his manly sense of desire, he only vainly coaxed her coquettishly. It wasn't good enough for her. However, he decided he needed his authority back to even the urban landscape of his life by repeating in kind the behaviour that was so slickly done onto him. To know power, was to misuse it. Perhaps, in the long run, he would be a better man for it. After he betrayed someone, finding the right moment all of a sudden in the easy relationship, as an excuse -- he accepted that no one was perfect but by then he was never caught with his guard down, a smooth talker. He seemed more accepting of who Caroline was, and now had a more realistic view of himself. They had gone their separate ways. 

© Zubyre Parvez 2017 All Rights Reserved

If you enjoyed this post, please check out further short stories in the series:
  1. Anish
  2. Agnieska
  3. Caroline
  4. Mustapha
  5. Boy from Bath
  6. Actor Dude
  7. Imtiaz
The EaghamsWRITER BIO: Zubyre Parvez (BA hons) studied English Literature at Hertfordshire University. He writes song lyrics, poetry, short stories, reviews, and articles for The Eaghams Blog.  His poetry won runners up in a competition judged by Simon Armitage and Margaret Atwood. His poetry has been published in Kobita. His articles have appeared in The Epoch Times as a journalist for the newspaper. He has worked for New Tang Dynasty Television as a journalist. You can catch up with his tweets @TheEaghams



ARTIST BIO:The Eaghams aka Zubyre Parvez is an Urban Indie singer songwriter from London. His song The Roots was played on BBC 1Xtra by DJ Excalibuh. He has collaborated with artists such as Mr Hectic and Jason Air formerly of Island records. He has played at The Garage, and various open mics.