Saturday, November 29, 2008

The mayhem in Bombay is said to have ended. The terror might have just begun. But like most parts of the subcontinent, I suffer from amnesia. While I see a list of everything that has exploded in the past decade, the past year and the last month, it does not register. As I did today, most days, I walk to the supermarket across the road and load my cart with organic carrots, avocados, cheese and bread. I lunch. I drink wine. I am told that the world must go on.

And go on it will.

But I am still left with a sinking lump and the added responsibility of pretending for the young ones around me that life is safe. That hope reigns. And that uncertainty must be combated by a few stray strands of knowledge. Of the numbers that I call my bank account. Of the miles my car has been driven. Of the temperature in Austin.

How does one selectively combat apathy? What is the right combination that will let me plod forward and yet hold my fists close to my body? My shoulders slouch and my eyes are shifty. I fear the future.

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