Uncut wings

So, I met a Pakistani traveller today who has been on India Darshan for 3 months now. He gave me a perfect lesson on human nature today. It goes like: He said, when I was coming to India people warned me about Indians who have a false sense of pride due to their charming Prime Minister, they might insult you..maybe even hurt you. He crossed the border at Punjab and people told him brother...Pakistan is good...Punjabis here and Punjabis there but the Jat from Haryana..beware. Someone might kill you. He took a ride in a truck while travelling in Haryana and the driver told him, ah brother... Haryana is part Punjab, we are all brothers but the Rajasthanis.. Beware. He was riding a camel in Rajasthan when the owner said...ah brother we are all North West Indian brothers but the Gujrati people are all money minded...the Gujratis warned him about Marathi manoos, the marathis about mixed racial Madhya Pradesh people, the Madhya Pradesh people about the Chattisgarhis, Chattisgarhis about...

About today:  Girl sitting in G15- Look, the guy had got a chiselled face. Girl sitting somewhere on the other side, let's assume it is G13- Nah, I fancy the one with them lips, the vaud- villain. G15- But he got high cheekbones! G13- Nah. Look at the eye makeup on my guy. G15-Mine can fly. He got powers. The beard. Look, like Big B from KBC. At this point yours truly was rolling her eyes and ended up shh-shushing them, the girls nevertheless went on chattering about Benedict Cumberbatch and Mads Mikkelsen without knowing the first thing about them. Naivete, you guys? My point is, why talk of such things in the hall when people literally all around you are watching a movie that needs quiet, if not a certain amount of concentration. Maybe, it's been months since I ventured out and faced the world, especially someplace social like the theatre but I would stress that people need to behave in such places. You never know whose long planned sojourn you might end up spoiling.

Today is Sylvia Plath's birthday. She would have been 84 years of age today. Possibly in an other the truth she's living in a cabin some place at the edge of the frosty, dark Atlantic where she paints and composes and keeps a hive or two brimming with honey bees. Alternately perhaps that is the thing that the hereafter looks like for her, not that she trusted in a the great beyond. Is it wrong to wish something on somebody on the off chance that they don't put stock in it? Likely.  You don't need to be quite a bit of a criminologist to make sense of that I cherish Sylvia Plath. My blog is named after her lone novel. I have a weaved representation of her on my lounge area divider. I even have a neckband with a small gold engraving of that old gloat about her heart: I am. I am. I am. I'm clearly a quite huge fan.  Be that as it may, I'm a fan for various reasons than you may might suspect.  I compose a considerable measure about emotional wellness, and I th...