my romantic tryst with cancer

you, my dear untended blog, need some lovin' and caressin' tonight... candles, soft music, and cuddling on my couch... I saw a mushy movie at the Inside Out Film Fest earlier tonight. It wan't great by any measure- amateur actors, clichéd lines, even happy endings- but it opened up a wellspring of emotions that I thought I had packaged away nicely in the basement of my imagination. I thought I had mastered the art of denial when it came to those feelings. Is It Just Me? captures, albeit badly, the angst I feel. I'm sure I'm not alone in this- someone did write the script, so there are at least two of us out there that have a soft spot for mush. The story was crappy- but the sub theme was all about romance, and I'm a strong advocate of more of that good stuff in a relationship. The cowboy gets the geek because they truly connect at a personal level. That people look beyond the surface when it comes to love. That broken hearts have more room to love, and tha

is it not strange how common this word is becoming in our lexicon... it is more than just me but I am more than it will ever be

Life, I have learned over the past year of my life,  is not ours to give or take, to keep or give up,  it is only ours to live... Live it with truth, beauty, and With love, always

My friend Barbara from Napoli would always tell me, when she'd read my mind on my face- "you feel, therefore you live". Feel, and live. Things happen when you know the peripheries of your own skin, love the boundaries of your emotions, and forget the limits of possibility... (excerpted from an email I sent a friend earlier today)

Mohammedali Road, Mumbai.

This is the view from the porch at the Radio Club where we had lunch this afternoon...

The attached picture is one of Mumbai's many famous landmarks. A neo-gothic wonder that rivalled anything the empire had back home- the Rajabai Clock Tower on the Bombay University campus. Rumour has it that they closed it off a few decades ago when it turned into a suicide magnet for students who did not fare that well in their exams. The maidan (field) in the foreground, now cricket central, was once the vast open areas the Brits cultivated around their forts to have clear firing range on any attackers. Ironically the university was built on the footprint of the fort's walls, and the expanse of open space, once Bombay's lungs and emerald jewels, has been whittled into irrelevance by generations of land grabs, corruption and negligence. Behind where I stand and take this picture stood a row of fine Art Deco apartments, now renovated into nouveau riche hell. I decided to let my legs take me around the City today and walked and walked for a few hours along familiar