More than at other times, during rains I get all worked up and ecstatic with Tagore's poetry, on a subject which seemed especially to inspire him: about, on, full of, rain, rain.
Today Nancy Gandhi has again stirred me with her two pictures of our balcony. But alas, I am not Tagore.
The above is with abject apologies to the people who are suffering all around Madras and the extended environment of the Southern peninsula of India. The only comfort or hopelessness which prevents me from breaking down altogether is that we who are affected by the current crisis are not the only people or place; that the whole world is by turn going to be bulldozed into submission and gradual perdition by man's belief that he controls not only the earth, but possibly the cosmos. He holds periodic meetings and conferences in the most affluent and luxurious venues to assert that man will overcome the so-called 'climate change.'
Ha.
See my earlier blogpost on climate change:
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