..aren’t we, mere mortals, fully helpless?
How do I study when the World outside is performing Her masterpiece? The wind is singing her beautiful song, an old melody that I’ve learnt by heart; much more brilliant than Rahman and Dvořák (yes, they surely belong in the same sentence). The trees and the grasses perform a dance of their own. Opening the window next to this table I sit at is like encountering a whole another world.
One in which there is a porch with three white chairs, made of a kind of straw. Continue reading “When the Heavens Distract..”