If every sad song in every heart broken world were sung

in heartrending unison

It would still not match the pain that flits across your face

when you are hurting.


Little Truths

Bianca day II mauri 067

Gris-Gris is well known for its sea cliff. This part of the island is not surrounded by coral reefs. Thick waves crash directly on the cliffs. The most spectacular part of Gris-gris is the “Roche Qui Pleure” where the constant squashing of waves against the flanks of the cliff gives the impression that the cliff is crying.



I see heads bobbing prettily all around me. 
Like hot air balloons that are tied to a string. 
Appearing carefree and floating and weightless
But they never really take off from the ground.
I see people fraternizing at communal festivities
Like dancers pirouetting rapturous on a stage
They seem graceful and blissful and euphoric
But it is a choreographed happiness.
I see humans flying all over a shrunken world
Like migratory birds with multiple entry visas
They appear unshackled and blithe and winged
But gravity pulls them down ever so often.
I see hands being held adoringly everyday
Like an inseparable bond between iron and magnet
They appear steadfast and enamored and devoted
But there is a deathly silent rust setting in. 
I see friendships being discovered in a second
Like glittering diamonds in a coal mine
And they are feted and treasured and coveted
Though the market is flooded with fakes. 
I see life going past in the slow motion of a movie
Like a lethargic snail counting little paces
It is plodding and dawdling and sluggish
Yet surprisingly it is over before you have even begun.


Conversation 7 – Of Love and its Permanence.


While strolling through the gallery of Nineteenth-Century Art in New York City’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, you are likely to stumble upon the painting of Pygmalion and Galatea by the French painter, Jean-Léon Gerôme. Completed in approximately 1890, this work illustrates the charming Greek tale of Pygmalion and Galatea: the story of a lonely sculptor who falls in love with his beautiful creation, and by grant of a wish, she comes to life and returns his love.

Have you been in love before? 

Yes. I have.

What happened?

It didn’t work out. We parted ways.

But you still love her?

No. Actually I don’t. I respect her and all but no – I don’t love her anymore.

See? This is the part I don’t get. If you in fact were in love – the real McCoy – how does the relationship not working out change anything? You should still be in love irrespective of whether you are together or not.

Why? Things change. People change.

But Love? Love changes? Shouldn’t it be forever? Shouldn’t it persist in spite of everything and because of everything?

For a seemingly cynical person – oddly – you are idealistic.

For an apparently non cynical person who believes in Love – oddly – you seem too practical.

So according to you – a person SHOULD love only once in their lifetime?

No according to me – a person COULD love only once in their lifetime. It cannot be a choice. It should be a foregone conclusion. If love is that exalted emotion that you believe in – then shouldn’t it be impossible to get back what you have given away forever – your heart in this case?

It is not a physical thing you know. This giving away of your heart. It is just a concept. And nobody gives away their whole heart even if they claim to. Only a part of it.

And the rest of the heart is kept to distribute as per the need or stashed away as a little nest egg in case the first affair does not work out?

Hah…You do have a cruel way of putting things. Do you think it possible to give away your whole heart? Completely – not even reserving a tiny bit for yourself? What about the part the loves you? Even that part?

Yes. Completely. Utterly. It shouldn’t be possible to even love yourself. You shouldn’t have the power to choose whether or not to. I would imagine it would be uncontrollable.

Which means that if you were unlucky enough to fall in love with the wrong person then you are stuck with loving that person for life? No respite?

Stuck? I wouldn’t put it so mildly. You are liberated from feeling for any other or condemned to feel for only one. For life. You are in love. Having it returned in a way that you like or for that matter – returned at all – isn’t the reward or the punishment. Being in Love is.

Conversation 6 – Of Dancing


The Singing Butler is an oil-on-canvas painting made by Scottish artist Jack Vettriano in 1992. Vettriano has described the painting as an “uplifting fantasy”. The Singing Butler has been criticised for its uneven finishing, inconsistent lighting and treatment of wind, and for the odd position of the dancers. His work has been widely criticised by art critics, but is popular with the public.

Do you dance?
No. I don’t and I think people who do are infinitely stupid.
Really? Why?
Why would any sane person jump around expending energy for no reason?
You think people dance for no reason?
You don’t?
I think most people dance for a reason. It may not be a good one but there is usually one.
Like what?
We dance to express vanity. Or happiness. Or sadness. Or togetherness. Infinite things. Intangible things. Of course there is the argument that why should dance or for that matter – everything have a purpose ? But that is for another conversation.
But why is there such a need to express our feelings? Why can’t we just hold what we feel inside of us? Why do we need a dance floor and a tattooed DJ to tell us how to shake our remixed feelings to a pilfered tune?
Because how can a human not express himself? He just has to. Otherwise he would suffocate and die.
He would? And do we not suffocate and die anyway sometimes even after we have expressed all we have to?
Not if we find the right someone to express it to.
And you flatter yourself that you are the right someone?
Do you feel a bit better or a bit worse after this debate?
I suppose better. But what if I said worse? Would that be bad?
Not as much as if you had said neither.