Sunday, October 23, 2005

is it wrong to germinate a story in a hospital room? creatively i don't think so. creatively everything goes. ideas don't care if you're in the shower or taking an exam or going to sleep- or, for that matter, keeping an eye on an eighty-four year old who insists on taking his blood pressure finger thingamajig off when he thinks you aren't looking. i wonder how we survived these past days, i really wonder how i can be sitting here as flippant as you please and only parson i was pacing a corridor and pretending i wasn't terrified. i think it's because at the end of the day, we all have to eat. after all the frantically bleeping machines and oxygen masks, suction tubes and the shape of antiseptically lit corridors there are salads to be tossed, dinners to be had, tea to be swilled, chocolate bars to be unwrapped in the quiet company of a motorized bed and the bubbling of hydrating oxygen. at the bottom of life there is food. i guess what that really means is that life keeps going on irrespective of whether you want it to stay or leave...and all we do boils down to one thing: keeping alive.. or being alive, we are all alive; survival happens irrespective of whether we like it or not. "now more than ever seems it rich to die / to cease upon the midnight with no pain", and yet you sparkled at me when i told you about the chaat, what'm i to do but wrap my life around each of your fragile breaths, you stubborn poetic long-fingered wilful and above all beloved man?

Mina at 6:23 PM