Monday, June 4, 2018

Ruined Versailles

I thought of the faraway time when we made love and all of life was still ahead of us - and of all those years since, impalpable, as if dissolved into thin air. I knew that the return trip is the real journey, when it floods the days that follow, so much so that it creates the prolonged sensation of one time getting lost in another, of one space losing itself in another. Images are superimposed on one another- a secret alchemy, a depth of field in which our shadows seem more real than ourselves. That is where the truth of the voyage lies. The hardest thing, then, is having to get up with nowhere to go. 
                                                                                       ~ Michele Lesbre, The Red Sofa

These crumbling havelis of Kolkata still continue to haunt my dreams...

Also see:
A Walk through a Santhal Village