And I am back in Kashmir. It is a month later and much warmer, though still cold enough for poncho and fire pot. I am staying on the island with two of my most favorite people here, a Finnish snowball and a Kashmiri prince. I am having two long shirts fashioned by the tailor, and a new green poncho. There is a strike and a curfew and all business have been closed for a week.
More importantly, I am becoming aware of this pattern Hillary spoke of. It is a computer virus of the brain which multiplies at the slightest attempt to shut it down and is the source of much frustration. It has to do with jealousy, desire, and men who call me darling. I have realized that no one can take it away for me, I must bin it myself.
As wise Ali baba told me, this is all my space. How do I want to use it?