SHOPPING FOR LUCK

Year of the Rooster
9 February 2005

China Town, LONDON

LEAD THOU ME ON

Portobello Green

LONDON, 2004

THE PATRON SAINT

Saint Thiruvalluvar, presiding over SOAS.

circa 2004-05

dark mornings, high noons, bright nights

hail, mist, grey and shine

september once to september again.

we glared, smiled, ignored

swam, sunk and surfaced

constant companion, back and forth - stay well.

APOCALYPSE NOW

Existential angst is our one true constant companion.

That given, there is something to be said about acquainting new angels but choosing to continue courting old demons. Or worse still, like I did, return to waltz with them all over again. The horror! The horror! What was I thinking? At least Kurtz was delivered post decadence. I want to be as well. OK, I do not want someone to bumble along and mumble 'miss sin, she dead.' But I want deliverance nevertheless.

From this eternal nightmare called TV news - its ability to numb every ounce of sense, bury any semblance of sanity sans a befitting ceremony, and turn you into a bigger idiot than you originally were. Suck you in, take you hostage despite your infinite will. Inflate the absent and puncture what's left of the present.

For 12 consecutive years, I unfailingly chanted - at every 9 a.m. assembly prayer at school - 'lead us not to the temptation but deliver us from all evil.' It was no act of faith. A ritual it was. But if all that chanting counts for anything, more than a decade later, may I indeed be salvaged. Or, till I crack the code, may my soul be sustained. Amen.

OK, I have rambled enough. As they say on TV, 'there's lots more coming up, so stay tuned.'

'SELF' and the 'OTHER'

proud, beef- eating Hindu
milder of the two Indian women
exemplar of contradiction from the land of Dharma.
Sri Ma, Sin, Super, Screwed-up.
giver of light, ever ready with a 'curry', and crib
lady of the meeting Kronenbourgs, shine on!

(cracks me up, this mapping of ME by THEM - fellow pilgrims all)

LONDON, circa 2004/05 and since