For the first time in years I've been in Bombay over three months running with only a two day trip to Poona in between. And luckily for me it's been in the monsoon, which has been pretty here - as if to underline the ironies of life: those of us who kvetched about the South and North Bombay divide as proven through drainage in the 26/7 floods never think of the ironies of the say Bombay and Bihar divide: where for us it's romance, for someone it's death. Although that also applies in an everyday sense here in Bombay for those who live on the street.
Because the monsoon light disguises the passing of the day I am less anxious and more able to think; yet unable to find the exact right answer of how to live with one's own pleasures without blocking out others' pain; to be compassionate of others' pain without disregarding of the small daily pleasures that sustain. To figure out that balance is obviously to be at peace, to be less pointlessly self absorbed. Some days you feel you may almost have found that elusive centre. And then you realise it's just a trick of the light.