ON MASCOTS...

Well, this post can be thought of as a knee-jerk reflex, you know. Sort of a thing that's natural when something unexpected happens. Like when you're walking in a crowd and the advancement's too slow to be called so, and everyone around you looks like they're just lolling about where they stand, and there's this airlessness around making you dizzy after something like a bad film or a really hopeless concert and there's this guy you watched it with, an acquaintance, and all you remember of him at that moment is that he was wearing a white T-Shirt, and knowing that you just pat the back of one resembling him and it's vague because you don't feel his build or any sort of familiarity. Instead it's a pair of straps that you feel underneath your palms and the dizziness makes you check again, and you almost think like you see a rhinoceros frown at you as the girl turns about, and you get startled. Yeah, startled!

That was a work of fiction, by the way. And that's not how I felt when I found that everyone who read 'Nearness of Far' asked for a clarification about the same four lines that I didn't actually give much of a thought about, as I wrote them: The Bridge, which, ironically, is supposed to be the most crucial and impacting part of a usual lyric. Here goes.

"I'm still mulling about for a mascot,
(would I find one in this century?)
Would I get help showing what I've got?
Or would she find something for me...?"

'Mascot'. Some sort of 'thing' or an 'emblem', something that helps fight the gap and helps relate in a Babel world. Something to counter the opposing forces, you know, create a crevice enough for affection to surface.

I could do with a good Blueberry Pie...


(With all credit to Wong Kar Wai and his visually poetic 'My Blueberry Nights'. Norah Jones, who sings with her eyes, Jude Law, who laughs with them, and of course... The ice-cream that tops this ravishing pie.)