Death Of Good Old Flirting

Prelude there is, nor a lightning affair, Nor yet the heaving heart's heist to explore, Routine good manners nor yet eyes' flutter, Frisson nor frown favoured nor yet deemed fair; A harmless hailing from the male of sex, Nor the other warmly acknowledging That, both are true to their sex and not lax. Whatso, but dearth there's of good old flirting. Perhaps people are no more ruled by heart, May be sex is simmering much in head, Or the male mystique has turned a tame tart, Gallantry nigh has gone, chivalry dead. Venus is scarce spotted amidst eve stars, Nor is visible the reddish brave Mars. ______________________________________________________ The good old art of flirting it seems has gone almost dead. The traditional male etiquette, chivalry, and gallantry survive today only in novels of ere. An average young man has turned timid to make even an eye contact, perhaps for the fear of sexual harassment or personal embarrassment. So much, even a harmless appreciative compliment has dried down. Even in India, the land of nymphs, apsaras, naayikas, and dasis, flirting as a fine art has got all but frozen. In a somewhat humorous tone, this sonnet explores why. The answer is ventured in the Volta voicing from the 9th line. ______________________________________________________ Sonnets | 06.10.11 |