I wrote this when I was having a dramatic moment. I have since calmed down ;)

----

There is this quote which a friend shared with me ages ago. We were in college then. But I still remember it: 'It is easy to die for a friend but it is hard to find a friend worth dying for'. Time and again when I have felt someone was worth pushing myself out of my comfort zone for, putting myself out there for, going out on a limb for, I have done it. Only to realise I shouldn't have bothered. There are many things that come easy to people that take a whole lot more out of me. If they truly are a friend, I would want them to notice the humungous effort, the deliberate intention, the depth of emotion, underlying affection, the anxiety and vulnerability, everything that goes into my being there for them. Mostly they don't. That's when I wonder why bother. I rarely want to take such troubles now. One could argue you can't say until you do. That's true perhaps. But the disappointment is too much. It hurts too much. Cynicism has its uses. It protects you in a way. When you have accepted nothing is worth it and there's no point really, you can move on. Focus on the things that are rewarding. That won't let you down. People on the other hand? They will. Time and time again. They have no clue what it takes for you to show up. So when you do, you will wonder why you even bothered. The tom, dick, and harry would have done for them as well. Very well it would seem. That's what they'll make you feel. So why bother?

'No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river and he is not the same man' ~ Heraclitus

Most of my life we lived on this one lane in Mumbai. It's a lane in a pretty affluent neighbourhood of Mumbai, well connected to everything, close to the famous Juhu beach dotted with a lot of Bollywood residences. We moved houses about twice much later but both times on the same lane. Back and forth literally. The experience of being not well off in such a well-off locality must have had a unique impact on me come to think of it—but let me reflect on that another day. Why I mention this lane now is because I have been feeling this wave of nostalgia for it... a deep desire to be back there as we were back then in some of the happy times...

And then I remembered this quote. I remembered that when I passed this lane just this December when I was in Mumbai, I could barely recognize it. I could barely recognize most places in Mumbai, but this one is special. I grew up on this lane. But it was just so different. So dusty, so dirty, so unkempt, so rundown, all sorts of carts and rubbish spilling into the street... so out of sorts really. It used to be a posh part of the city like I said earlier but now it had become an old part. Many new high rises and swanky places have come up whereas this lane got forgotten it would seem. Or... is it me who has changed? Who is seeing it with different, with a world traveller's eyes?

The lane I was longing for was not there anymore... even the 'I' I was picturing living on that lane wasn't there anymore. They were both in the past. Alive only in my and most likely my family members' memories. But even our memories I imagine recall a very different lane even though they are the same... These thoughts only made me miss my lane more because there was no way to go back... even if I did.

I was getting a take-away pizza on my way home on Friday evening. The server had an extra package on top of the pizza box. When I looked at him quizzically, he said it's a 'croissant on the house'. And that made me happy... hehe! I don't know where I get this from. It could be a middle-class Indian thing? Or could be the scarcity mindset I grew up in? Maybe both compounded? But anything 'for free' is guaranteed to make me happy. If it comes right out of the blue, then even more so. If it's something I like or could use, even more so. But even if it's not particularly my thing, a free thing is a free thing. It will still give me a boost ;)

I have wondered about this because... there was a time I couldn't afford the simple pleasures of life. It made sense then that I would feel happy to get stuff that I (or my family) might not have extra money to spend on. But now that's not the case. So, I am not really sure why? It kind of makes me realise how much our early experiences count, how much of a weight they have even much later in our lives... When I was walking about M&S recently, I suddenly reflected that now if I was choosing to not buy something, it was for all kinds of reasons but never because it was too expensive. I mean, even if I thought to myself something was too expensive, it wasn't that I couldn't afford to buy it. I just felt it wasn't worth buying. And when I thought about this, I stopped to savour this feeling. A feeling that nothing in this shop was inaccessible to me. I could buy whatever my heart desired. I wanted to feel the feeling really. It felt quite luxurious. Quite lush. This is what people born into money or even comfort might have been feeling from their childhood years? They never had to earn this feeling. I wonder how different their orientation to life must be? I doubt they feel a rush of delight when they get something for free?

But I don't let these thoughts run away with me. My early years have taught me to be careful with money, to be prudent, to save, to not waste stuff, etc... Sometimes I find it hard to figure out what the balance is because I have never really lived in a balanced state, if you know what I mean? I do not want to spend too much but nor do I want to spend too little. That's why I decided to treat myself to a pizza on Friday evening. And when I got the croissant, I knew I made the right choice ;)

My go-to genre on Netflix is murder mysteries. Not the gory or graphic sort. Ones that engage your brain cells really. The whodunits without all the blood but plenty of complex twists. I have long come to the conclusion that the Brit stuff is the best in this as well as many other categories, like the period pieces, documentaries, etc. The cerebral quotient is high, acting very natural, dialogue smooth, just enough restrained emotion, not too warm/not too cold, the plot is logical, and so much else. The Italian/Spanish ones are a bit over the top/all over the place on all these counts... they don't keep the focus where it needs to be. The Scandinavian/Nordic the opposite, if that makes sense. Too clinical, too devoid of emotion, too lacking in warmth, in the human... which is what motivates my interest even though subtly. I remember once starting one of these Nordic shows and barely a few minutes in, this woman was ready to chop a chap laid on the table as if it was a sack of potatoes. With zero expression on the face. I was out, in a hurry :( The French ones are probably closer to the Brit, if I had to choose. German seems somewhere in the middle of French and Scandinavian/Nordic. A bit too uptight and cold for my liking. American... hmm... not high on cerebral, acting artificial, too unrestrained, thin plot, hollow dialogue, very random illogical twists. Rarely holds my interest very long. [exceptions obviously exist in all these languages].

Closer home, I feel the quality of crime drama in Bollywood is improving but it's a rare gem here and there. The staple is still pretty boringly predictable. Too contrived. If I know there's a good one, I do want to watch it... but there's an added complication. I am unable to be as detached as when I watch any other language shows. I have to say that I am actually very easily frightened. It's a bit of a tension between me loving a good mystery and me being put off by even the idea of violent action. With the Indian stuff, my heightened emotional involvement makes the experience very uncomfortable if the show tries to be too real. So chances are I will avoid it, unless I am watching with company.

Makes one think about how different cultural systems - different human expressions – different languages - different audience orientations capture the complexity of crime and its resolution in creative form... and all this of course from my subjective perspective which itself is oriented to appreciate a particular form and style over others…

I wish I could be like a sage. One who gives up all material possessions, all attachments, all chains, all desires and ambitions... and just goes and sits on top of a mountain. Calm, tranquil, peaceful with no care in the world or for the world. I don't know if that's how sages were like... but that's the impression I have and I wish I could be one. Just embrace peace, tranquillity, serenity... as if nothing really matters in the grand scheme of things. If you think about it, nothing does. As they say, the king and the pawn go back into the same box tomorrow. Yet we hoard. Seems rather pointless when you think about it. The humungous number of things a body has to keep track of just to survive from day to day. It's like a hotel which you never check into, but you have to do everything to earn your room, your meal, your right to stay. The dishes, the laundry, the job, the taxes, the bank, the phone connection, the housing, the healthcare, the visa... the myriad things on a never-ending list. And you have to be on top of it all. All the time. The machine must be oiled all the time to keep it running. And that's where I really envy the sage of olden times. It's no wonder they could meditate. They did not have to think of a constant stream of things that the more you cross out, the more they queue up. Doesn't it seem like we have made existence very complicated? The real things, the beautiful things, the joyful, fulfilling things are what you have to snatch out of the clutches of the machine really... You do not ask to be a part of the scheme, but you cannot not be a part of it. Unless you are a sage. And I doubt even sages today could be what they used to be. If they can completely check out of this hotel. Maybe the trick is to find a way to be this sage right in the thick of it. To not let the machine run you so to speak. To find the mountain inside you as the cliche goes. But how does one do this...?

An annoying exchange happened while I was at Manchester airport on the way back from Copenhagen. I do not have to tell you that I am a highly anxious and highly strung person when I am not in my comfort zone. And if there is one place that's the very opposite of my comfort zone, it is the airport. Everything about the airport, from all the random rules and regulations, to the arbitrary checks and scrutinies particularly for nationalities like mine, to the new technologies introduced that make things only more complicated than they have to be, long queues and waits,... everything really makes me a nervous wreck. But for all that, I was quite happy to finally be in this queue to finish up the border control procedures at Manchester airport before heading homewards. There was this young Indian couple right ahead of me. The woman went to the booth first. The guy was standing there for his turn. An official at a booth farther away waved to the guy to come forward. He didn't seem to notice so I said to him that he was being called. As his back was facing me, it was unlikely he heard me. So I had to tap his backpack and tell him. It's quite possible my voice was hurried or urgent which to me seems perfectly natural in a situation like this. He looked around with a sour expression and as he walked away to that booth, said to me in a very condescending tone and gesture: 'chill', 'relax'. I was completely thrown away by this utterly unexpected and unkind remark, and looked behind me at the Chinese lady who must have witnessed all this. She too shared my bemusement. I couldn't help overthink my own actions all the way back—what had I done wrong? It seems to me the chap should have actually thanked me for drawing his attention. I didn't really need to. My expression and tone might have been hurried because I was seeing the official waving at us, but it certainly wasn't rude. 

I know I should just ignore the whole thing because it does not deserve my headspace. But being the sensitive person I am, whenever I am made to feel guilty, I cannot help reflect on whether I merit the charge in some way. I know I am neither a 'relaxed' nor a 'chill' sort of person by constitution. A lot of things that come very easily to most people require a tremendous amount of energy, effort, and struggle from me (and there are some things that come very easily to me that many others might consider difficult). I try to do what I can to do my difficult things. Mostly I try to do them without help because very few will understand my difficulties. Like going into a restaurant with a very different food ordering and catering system. Sounds like 'no big deal', right? Well, it is for me! Obviously, that makes me very unrelaxed and unchill in my head in certain situations that are par for the course for most. I try as much as I can to not transfer my anxieties to others. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I am too overwhelmed. Which is why when someone says something like this, it can hurt on many levels... Like I have failed in spite of all the hidden work...

I'm sure the balanced part of my brain will kick in soon and I will be back to embracing the totally unrelaxed, unchill person that I am. I'd rather be too much rather than too little or chill any day ;)

I went to see this attraction called 'The Little Mermaid' out here in Copenhagen. Reading the online description, a smallish sculpture of a womanly figure on a rock in the water facing the promenade, I knew it wasn't something I was particularly keen on. There are many things I am not fascinated by that people seem to be. But there is always this pressure to like what they like, do what they do. I was asked by different friends if I had been to see the little mermaid. You can't tell them, no, I haven't, because I don't really feel that excited about it. Instead, you have to at least pretend to want to see it. You know, because everybody does? Because how can you know beforehand you won't enjoy it? Because that's a major sightseeing spot? etc. That's what they'll tell you.

Sometimes I feel like a spectator watching a show when I am around hordes of people. Like an alien from another planet. I see all these performances, displays, tricks, games, fakeries, masks... People at the little mermaid were busy taking photos, selfies, so on. It was so crowded with tourists, all of them trying to do the same thing. I did too. I was there for the express purpose of showing people I visited it ;) I had ticked the box! And that made me think about how much of our lives are spent ticking boxes for other people. We get so used to it that perhaps we don't even know anymore, what is it that ticks my box? It's hard to live a life doing things that tick your own unique boxes because people will always make you feel like you are ‘missing out’ if you aren't ticking theirs, if you are following your own drumbeat so to speak... But it is still worth it, compared to the alternative, I’d think.

I am in Copenhagen for a work conference. Travelling is one of those things that is most disruptive to my routines. And yet there is something about some types of travel that I love. Something that sometimes compensates for all the trouble. I suppose there is a sense of experiencing another world, another life, another way of being, an-other whom I would never ordinarily meet...

One of the things I have found very striking—and perhaps need to find out why it is so—is people in Copenhagen speak English almost as if it’s a first language. For a traveller that makes many things pretty simple.

Some moments...

I asked the coordinator person at the airport train station which station might be close to such and such hotel. He says, "I stay at home, not at a hotel, I will need to check on the phone." He was quite matter of fact and not rude. I found his answer quite dry and funny actually (though unlike a British person who might have been deliberately doing dry humour, his face suggested he was just stating facts... hehe)

I pressed a button to a level on the lift to get a change of train. I had my suitcase with me and was on my way to my hotel. As I started moving out of the lift, one lady called after me that this wasn't the street level. I told her I had to get another train. I thought that was nice of her to go out of her way to stop me from getting off at the wrong floor?!

I was getting myself some lunch at the conference centre. The young person at the counter asked me if I wanted the Danish cake. I was eyeing it quite a bit because it was unusual­—brown, round shaped, rolled in sesame type sprinkles. She said it had rum. I decided not to go for it. I went for the large cookie instead. She wrapped it in a small paper cover. The cover looked thin. I asked if I could get another cover (just in case I needed to put it in my bag). She said you'll have to pay for it. Then suddenly said she was joking... took me by surprise!

Another one in a bakery (yes, I have been walking into any and every bakery I can lay my eyes on ;)). I saw very very huge bees circling some of the Danish pastries in this shop. I couldn't help point out to the person at the counter. She said honeybees are common over here. Then she said I shouldn't worry as she was giving me the croissant from a covered area behind the counter. I was still a little confused by the bee image ;)

The cardamom croissant I got had a subtle bitter aftertaste. I also had a mandarin flavoured ice cream which turned out to be bitter. I chose the flavour because I expected tangy sour stuff. I wasn't told it would be bitter. Who expects any ice cream flavour to be bitter?! :( Kind of made me think of how different cultures have their own unique flavour profile...

I treated you

Like a cup

The one

I use

For tea

Every day

How I love it

Or I wouldn't

Call upon it

For the best ritual

Of my day

But

Would it know?

Being used and rinsed

Morning after morning

As if

It was nothing

But a usable

Thing

It perhaps

Could never tell

The place

It holds

How its

Delicate, fragile, lovely

Contours

Cradled warmly

Brightened

My soul

Now

I behold you

Like the

Sacred statue

Up there

Atop a pedestal

Not to be

Called upon

Unless

To pray

Or worship

Ask for

Divine guidance

Not

As often

Or without

Grand occasion

As my

Favourite cup

And then too

I tremble

At a

Distance

Approach

Gingerly

Almost

Fearfully

What if

Some wayward

Word

Or gesture

Arouse

Your ire

Or worse still

Turn you

Away...  

~Me

I was just reading this story about a man who survived the Titanic, was asked to amputate his leg because he had a frostbite from the icy water, refused it, and went on to become a world tennis champion. I am amazed not just at the resilience and grit to survive and achieve success from such a difficult point but also struck by the confidence or faith or whatever it was that made him refuse the amputation. The risk involved in refusing what might have been an expert opinion to simply trust his own intuition or gut. I feel immensely inspired by this especially at this moment when I am reflecting on my own very low tolerance of risk and uncertainty... and how that causes tremendous anxiety for me whenever I am put in a situation where I have to make a decision that could be potentially risky. But when I look back on my life, I also feel I have actually made many decisions that most people would think are very risky. Such as the decision to leave everything... job, emotional bonds, support systems, stability, familiarity... all the things that ground me fundamentally... to come here where I had nothing and no one.

I am not at all what might be called an adventurous person who gets a kick out of the unknown. I'll take the known every day of my life and I will not be bored. And yet I took the risk to give up all that I know at one point... though I did not have to. So there must be something more in me. It is not that I do not take risks or do not venture into uncertainty. But perhaps it's natural to feel this tremendous turmoil given how much I like stabilities and certainties. It was not easy to make that decision then though I have forgotten just how difficult it was. And it is not easy to make these kinds of decisions now. It is perhaps my subconscious or intuition working out everything, weighing up pros and cons, pushing through all possibilities to see future outcomes... It takes a toll. Maybe it's a good thing too compared to simply jumping in headfirst without making any calculations...

So folks, I don't want to keep you on a cliffhanger ;) The story since my last post has undergone some dramatic twists and turns with resolution still not in the clear. Suffice to say that I might be back in business, or in 'the house'. Or I might not! The funny thing is that having once been made to accept that I will not have 'the house', the possibility of it actually working out either way now is something I am finding much easier to digest. Once having made peace with the fact that it's definitely not to be, I am facing the possibility of it materializing (or not) with a lot more equanimity. I suppose a big part of it is that I am a 'worst case scenario' person. Unlike other people who look at the best possibilities in any situation, I hope for the best but always keep the worst in mind. I have to admit that with 'the house' thing I had become lulled into hope. I had not expected the worst. When I got the news, I started getting to grips with what it meant the whole entire day. I even thought that the very fact I wanted it so much should have been indication enough that I wasn't going to... I came to a painful kind of acceptance, maybe even a cynical one, that anything that looked too good to be true was probably so in my case. When the very next morning I got another news that maybe it was going to happen after all... imagine the roller coaster of feelings! But... there was a big difference. In the space of that one day, the hopeful enthusiastic me was gone. Things are still up in the air now. But I am okay if it happens, okay if not.

Practically speaking, I am going to shift someplace temporarily even while 'the house' situation works itself out. Not my favourite situation to be in and one I have been trying my darndest to avoid. Let's hope it all ends well ;)

Still in a bit of a shock as I write this. I generally tend to think of all the worst possible outcomes in a situation, but you know what, fate is way more unpredictable and creative than I am. The worstest thing possible and the worstest time when it could be the worstiest of all, was something that I really didn't think of. And that's what happened with my 'house' situation. Not only can I no longer have the house—which by the way I had my heart set on and wasn't just a house—I also literally have to move house next week with no house to move to! Now take that, is what fate is saying I am sure! ;) People think I am joking when I say that things never ever happen smoothly for me. I know that that's how it is because of past patterns and therefore I plan for all sorts of obstacles. But this one has blown me off. Again! I have no backup plans. When I got the email that conveyed this news to me, my brain just went numb. One part of it was grappling with losing something that I thought was going to be my new dwelling for a while. I already loved it. In one of my recent posts I had mentioned how I am moving out of campus after 9 whole years! Another part of it was thinking through the practical stuff. Where am I to go next week? What are my options? I don't know at this point. I never 'go with the flow' but what do you do when you are pushed into the flow literally? At this level of turmoil, I almost feel calm…hehe!  Or maybe just frozen... like a deer caught in the headlights... As usual, I am trying to find the lesson in all this, trying to look for what God is trying to tell me, what sign is the universe giving me... maybe it will all make sense at some point in the future, wherever I am at then...

I met a local interior designer lady a few weeks back. I liked the idea of working with someone to do up the house. I immediately warmed up to her. I don't know what it is but people tend to make three kinds of first impressions on me: instant dislike, neutral, instant like. She fell into the third. It might be the quiet calm tranquil soothing energy. An intelligent introverted vibe if you will. And strangely, I become more vibrant around this type...hehe... My energy shifts the more comfortable I feel, I think.

It didn't take much for me to pour out all my ideas, plans, possibilities, etc to her. She wasn't charging me a bomb for her services so that was another reason I immediately went all in... We started talking budgets for the work to be done and that's when she threw me off. It sounded mind-blowing because my actual needs were rather basic. She said she'd come back with a budget closer to my needs. We parted with her saying her best friend was Indian. I mean, if I wasn't already quite pleased with her, that would have warmed me more...!

I went into this preamble because without it, it would be hard to understand how I feel. She didn’t respond to my message enquiring what was going on, after I waited more than a week for her to come back. Not even to say she was busy and would respond at a later time. If she’d just said she couldn’t work with me for whatever reason, I’d still respect the honesty. For some reason, it felt personal. The logical side of me figured that my budget was too small for it to be worth her time. But there was another part of me that wondered how I could have got her so wrong...? I mean, an 'instant like' is not just about the calm vibe but also a vibe that signals a person of good values. Someone I could trust. To simply disappear on me isn't what that looks like to me.

I had actually given up on her by now and started looking into the designing myself. The nagging feeling stayed though. How could somebody I instantly like turn out so unprofessional, so without good work ethic? Today she messaged a very vague one about being very busy, and gave me some random cost calculations etc. Even if it had happened to fit into my scheme of things, I could never work with her anymore. I suppose... and maybe I have said it before... in spite of being a very logical person, the decisions I make are driven by my emotions. I no longer feel the same.

Is the world becoming a really shitty place lately or does it just feel that way....? Everywhere there is doom and gloom... war, deaths, hate, bad leaders, fear, negativity, terror, job losses, depression, cost cuts... Nothing seems to be going well really no matter where you look. How do you even go about everyday stuff feeling any kind of hope for the future? I find it hard, to be honest... hard to think about tomorrow or look forward to tomorrow... I find it hard enough to get through today... sometimes they say it's best not to think about the whole mountain or life ahead... just take it one step at a time... One tries to do that as best one can... being the hyper-planner that I am though, I always have one foot on the next few steps... and the question arises now and again, for what?... When I think about moving into my new house (keeping aside challenges related to that for now), I find it hard to be excited in any way... it feels like old wine in a new bottle... the more things change, the more they stay the same... like monkeys we are distracted by shiny new things... but when you see things starkly and clearly... the distractions don't cut it... they don't reassure you about the fundamentals... I sometimes wonder if people see the irony or even the hypocrisy... what goes on at a large scale and how we mouth the usual platitudes of care at the micro level... how does one live really in the middle of all this? One feels lost and yet one must hold on tight to one's bearings... to not completely slip and fall...

I was pondering a bit more on why I have always been inspired by the quote ‘God is on the side not of the heavy battalions, but of the best shots.’ I think this goes with the fact that I have also always liked stories (real or fictional) where the underdog wins in the end. The individual who comes from nothing, has got nothing except his/her own talent to bank on, takes on the world and in a way fate itself... and wins. I admire resilience, grit, determination, perseverance, ambition, desire for excellence... and when all these wonderful qualities are rolled in one. I obviously want to see such people rewarded. And the idea that God Himself will reward those who push against all odds is very satisfying to me. I have seen enough of humans to place my trust in their judgement or discretion... but God, He surely can be trusted to make the good guys come out triumphant in the end? Or so I hope...

There is a story in the Mahabharata which has always saddened me. Now that I think about it, it must be because this story does not have the end that I like. Here is the story...

Dronacharya is a Guru, a teacher of royal princes. One of the skills he teaches is archery. He promises to make Arjuna, his best student at this skill, the greatest archer in the world. One day Dronacharya is teaching his students to take aim at a parrot in a tree. When he asks every student what they see, they respond with a whole lot of things in the scenery. Arjuna is the only one who sees only the eye of the parrot. A kid from the forest, Ekalavya, approaches the Guru at this point, and asks him to take him on as a student. Dronacharya refuses because Ekalavya is not a prince. Ekalavya takes a handful of mud from under the Guru's feet and walks away. Many years later when Dronacharya goes hunting with the princes with their hunting dog, the dog suddenly disappears from view, barking. Minutes later the dog's barking stops, and he comes back with his mouth closed with three arrows. It is a remarkable feat that Drona is aware even his best student, Arjuna, cannot accomplish. Ekalavya comes forward as the shooter of the arrows. When Drona asks him from whom he learnt such brilliant archery, Ekalavya tells him that it is he, Drona, from whom he learnt it. He refers to Drona as his Guru. Ekalavya mixed the mud from under Drona's feet with clay and made a statue out of it. He prayed and practiced in front of this statue. He attributed his skill to the Guru as he received inspiration and confidence from his likeness! To this, Drona, who has promised to make Arjuna the best archer in the world, asks Ekalavya if he would be willing to offer him 'guru-dakshina' (gift given to the Guru in return for teaching). Ekalavya does not hesitate to say that he would be honoured to do so. The Guru's acceptance of guru-dakshina would officially make him his Guru. Drona asks him for his right thumb, and Ekalavya gladly cuts it off. This means Ekalavya cannot practice archery anymore, but he does not seem to mind at all. All he cares about, as it seems, is to finally be recognized by his Guru!

----

I feel bad for Ekalavya. He should have gone on to do greater things. But instead he is tricked by the 'heavy battalions'. I suppose it makes me sad, even angry, that God was not on the side of the best shot...

‘God is on the side not of the heavy battalions, but of the best shots.’

—Voltaire

It may be pretty obvious to anyone reading my blog (or anyone who knows me well in person) that I thoroughly enjoy quotes or epigrams or short pithy sayings. They deliver an insight in a way that long paragraphs cannot. And because they do it so cleverly, I enjoy them quite a bit! I have had a hankering for them from childhood upwards. I used to note them down by hand on a sheet of paper whenever I came across one in a book I was reading or sections of newspapers devoted to literary matter. I had a file full of these papers (and still have them somewhere). Later of course, I started noting these in digital documents... now have a notepad on my phone for it ;)

A few days back, strangely and almost out of the blue, the quote by Voltaire I mentioned above popped into my head. It is one of the quotes I handwrote on paper way back then. I remember reading it several times over the years whenever I took out this file, which is why it's stuck in some corner of my brain. But I felt... I actually understood it only now! Now when I turned it in my head, its meaning flashed like a light (though arguably its meaning is open to many interpretations).

I am not at all sure as to what I made of the quote when I first came across it, why did I find it so intriguing even then, and why did I decide to jot it? Could it be that I did have the same insight into what it meant, however faintly, and with all these years having passed, I am seeing it again as something new? Could it be that my experiences in life are adding a new level of poignancy to the quote, more nuance if you will, which is why it feels like I am seeing it for the first time now, not that I did not have a vague sense of interpretation then? I certainly must have, or I wouldn’t have noted it because it wouldn’t have tickled me…