Paradise is a state of mind, but I dream of Colonia del Sacremento in Uruguay, the closest approximation of what it should be; a town accessible by ferry across the Rio de la Plata from Buenos Aires; sleepy but picturesque, cobblestone lined streets and white washed brick houses with cast iron railings, century old cedars dotting the landscape. On mopeds driving out of town the river is a shimmering ocean. I remember in passing my days the deeply azure skies were punctuated by the whitest of whites.

I own a small farm here, where I toil the earth with my bare hands in the garden growing luscious tomatoes and lines of sweet peas. My horses roam the fields, sometimes grazing, sometimes galloping. I fatten pigs & chickens for dinner. Somewhere, a stream meanders through the estate. 

It is here I wade for you

With the trepidation close to despair of never knowing when

You are the paradise inside of me

Unlocking years of not having known

That a thing like you

Who was never in my life

Who could only hold back tears

In an act of love

With knowing

That I am the paradise inside of you


Feelings are for losers

June 12, 2010

Surgeries are not meant to be taken lightly, a recourse always to be deliberated upon and always as a last resort. Although I often thought about it as an option for my problems with sleep apnea these last few years, I had never seriously considered it, for keeping fit & losing weight & altering your lifestyle are intrinsically more holistic ways to achieve the same result.

Of course, those were just thoughts – for I never did lose weight nor kept fit nor changed my lifestyle. So I went to a compliant ENT surgeon, filled up the insurance papers, applied for leave and went full anaesthesia this past monday, for a bit of a nip & tuck.

What I didn’t count on, was the excruciating post-op pain, uncontrollable dribble, blood clogged nostrils, drugged up days & nights of insomnia.   As I write this, my veins are messed up, I am incoherant, I am drenched in cold sweat and I twitch uncontrollably. Come to think of it – it’s just like being in love.

Somewhere I have never travelled

gladly beyond any experience

Your eyes have their silence

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me

or which I cannot touch because they are too near

Your slightest look will easily unclose me

though I have closed myself as fingers