“How happy is the blameless vessel’s life, Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. Each prayer accepted, Each prayer resigned..” -- Alexander Pope A quiet early summer night in the city As the gentle breeze sweeps silently from the window With mellow Punjabi folk music for company ...........Saanson mein sargam gaye, hawle hawle kuch keh jaye.... There is no rhyme, reason, poetry or meaning in all this. It is again the lyrical madness Amidst the agonizing future The anatomy of excess and of course, The colonization of the mind… Even through the solitude of my bare essentials I crave for something. With so much unrest in this calm. The silence breaks up. Is it the romantic depression? Or is it this strange sense of something coming to you when you don’t know it is? The blameless vessel, why am I not the blameless vessel?
