Busy For Hours

For a place where several hundred severely disabled men, women and children are looked after, the atmosphere in Mumbai’s Asha Daan is surprisingly quiet and relaxed. The nine nuns who run the place clearly wish to avoid ostentation, although they’re effusive when it comes to greetings. “Look around,” they say. “Talk to the people. Ask them how they are.” The Divine L and I have … Continue reading Busy For Hours

Yellow

Here’s a little story to tide you over whilst walls and ceilings continue to topple around us. Two years ago, the Divine L and I hopped over to Bruges for a couple of days. We decided to have dinner at a cosy little fondue restaurant where the friendliness of the proprietor prompted us to engage him in some polite conversation, not least about the fact … Continue reading Yellow

Matt

I was going to write a post about how I can’t write any posts at the moment because our tranquil abode is undergoing major trauma in the form of a complete overhaul of its roof. What should have been a fairly non-invasive procedure has turned into anything but: entire rooms have had to be emptied because of the danger of collapsing ceilings, tumbling plaster etc. … Continue reading Matt

Peach

The whole ‘pen to paper’ game feels odd at the moment. I’ve spent three years working on The Only Children and it’s now ready to be sent to agents and anyone else who’d care to read it. The agony and the uncertainty have resulted in 60,000 pretty coherent words. I’m trying to decide what to write next but I’m also making an attempt to deconstruct … Continue reading Peach

Grey

Yesterday, whilst the Divine L and I were on our traditional New Year’s Day walk, the sky made no effort to endear itself to us. Twelve months ago we had sunshine and a cloudless blue. This time, the pallor above our heads made it quite difficult to focus on what seems to have become the point of these walks: gaining a more intimate, pedestrian’s view … Continue reading Grey

Gird

There’s a moment in The English Patient – it may only be in the film version – when Almasy’s friend Madox says that perhaps he can’t help reading too much into events taking place around him because the relative blandness of his earlier life compelled him to read a great deal “into hardly anything at all.” I mention this apropos of little more than my … Continue reading Gird