Tag: writing

experiencing racism

24.02.2026

S: Someone was directly and unashamedly racist to me today. In the news this week, there is racism in sport. Players are being subjected to hate crime, thousands of messages a week. In film, there is racism. At the BAFTAs, someone used a racial slur. And in politics, all you have are these racists.

A: I notice you are not swearing.

S: That’s because of the censorship board that sits there. They never censor racism. Only when you criticise racism. We all know who they love.

A: What happened to you today? What was this racism?

S: I was helping some elderly people. Then this old man asked me what my name was. He didn’t understand it, so he had to ask to read it. Then, he said ‘Is that your real name? Has it been shortened? Because when these people come over here, they shorten their names and use different names.’

A: How was that racist?

S: It’s good you asked. Because in this racist culture, that would count as normal conversation even though it is so offensive. It is racist because it was my grandfather that came over. It is racist because this guy doubted that I was using my real name, like I was some criminal or something. It is racist because he assumed that I wasn’t British and had come over recently even though I’ve been born and bred in Great Britain. It was racist because he couldn’t even accept my answer to his question because I was different from him.

A: What did you do?

S: I looked at this ignoramus and smiled at him. Because in my culture, we treat the elderly with respect. And I knew that he would never stop being a racist. If I had said something, he would have taken offence and kicked up a fuss. Because an ethnic minority man was challenging his racist behaviour. I wasn’t racist to him. I didn’t look at his skin and assume he would be a racist. I didn’t prejudge him.

A: What is the solution to ending racism?

S: You can’t stop these idiots being ignorant. They always say that they didn’t realise how offensive they were. They say that you have to excuse our ignorance. They are ignorant on purpose. They read papers that are full of hate. They listen to politicians that are full of hate. They defend each other’s racism and teach it in schools and in their films and books and TV shows. They are a culture of deliberate ignorance and distancing from anyone perceived as different.

A: Why tell about it?

S: What else is there? Except to point out that their whole culture is one of racism. Even when you are helping them, that is the treatment that you get. And when you point it out like I do? They hate you even more. Because you dared to tell the truth about how they treated you because you were an ethnic minority man.

A: Feelings?

S: Just confirms what I think of this racist culture. There is no surprise. Someone on my level should be sitting at the top of this society. I am not because of their racism. Even when I was with the one I am with, someone shouted at me in a car to go back home when I was with her recently. That is what this is.

disbelief in the london encounter

24.02.2026

S: I’ve lost the will to do. I have disbelief in the London encounter.

A: In what way?

S: Before, I used to sing, act, speak to all these different people in London. I used to know hundreds of people. For about three and a half years, I spent my time trying to meet people in London. It went nowhere.

A: And now?

S: I don’t do any of that stuff.

A: Why?

S: First and foremost, I have someone now that I spend a lot of time with.

A: You don’t need anyone else?

S: No.

A: And the other reasons?

S: It is like what I said. I have disbelief in the London encounter. These people are not friendly. You cannot count them as your close friends. You cannot rely on them. They are cold people.

A: You have never liked Londoners.

S: Who would? All they have is a friendship of convenience. They are fair weather friends. I am lucky that I am not from London. I am lucky that I am not like them.

A: But surely you enjoy acting, singing and talking?

S: Not with fake people. Not with people without a heart.

A: What about your real friends? You have lots of real friends. You told me that when you wanted a party, about twelve of your friends rocked up.

S: We all live on the outskirts of London. They are all open and generous, accepting people. They actually have hearts. Even the one I am with, they live outside of London. The irony is that all these people live in London. You think you will meet someone there. But they are not real people. The city is full of fakes. The reality of this world is that it is hostile. You don’t have real intimacy with most of the people that you meet. You really are surrounded by strangers. They call themselves human when they have no humanity. They make every excuse. I am busy. I am tired. It is too far. But in reality, they cannot accept that you are different from them. But that they exclude on the basis of difference is a good thing. Because no one would ever want to be like them.

A: You have gone from being open to becoming completely closed.

S: I will only try to be friends up to a point. When I see that there is nothing being returned, then it is all over. Then, there is nothing.

misunderstanding

19.02.2026

S: The poet is raised on poetry. And this world is raised on prose. All there will be is misunderstanding.

A: You say that? But you write. You write incessantly. If you did not believe that there would be one that understood, why would you write?

S: Can you not write knowing full well that you will be misunderstood?

A: It seems pointless.

S: What is of point in this life? The average person in this culture is working to make even more money for the rich. What could be more pointless than that?

A: You believe that you have a destiny though.

S: My destiny is to have been born amongst those that cannot and will not understand.

A: Make them understand.

S: You cannot give intelligence to stupidity and ignorance. You cannot talk to those that will not listen. Arrogance makes them impenetrable.

A: Why then write?

S: The truth is the truth. My truth. I am the truth. I am my truth. The truth will out.

A: Why become Sisyphus?

S: All there is is Sisyphus. There is no one else. And, do you know what? This has been the problem of the writer in every age. The true writer, the writer that is true. They are centuries ahead of their time. Because common sense is common stupidity. The herd think in ignorance. They are cheap thoughts. Not worthy of men. They cannot catch up with the real men, the real writer. If the real writer is saved from the ravages of time, then men look at them and think that this was a real man in the midst of the herd. They say that these men were ahead of their time.

A: You are so egotistical it is unbelievable. You worship yourself.

S: I know my place in the world of thought. I am a genius. I am what has come through six thousand years and more of Indian civilisation.

A: Even Indian people do not agree with you.

S: There are few that can agree with a genius. They are not on the same level.

A: Remain the poet. And remain incomprehensible.

S:

I baked this strange letter in the oven

the fragrance was indescribable

the taste was beyond words

each that held the letter

they were confounded by the cook

each bite that they took

made the letter more and more illegible

they ate reluctantly

it was all gone

the letter was dead

and they turned instead

to a more familiar dessert

the moon and the star of the lovers

18.02.2026

S: In the love songs of the Hindi films, the male lover is always telling the woman lover that he will bring her the moon and the stars.

A: A lover’s conceit?

S: Of course, literally speaking, he can never bring her the moon and the stars.

A: True. And what about her? Does she ever offer to bring the male lover the moon and the stars?

S: I’ve never heard it.

A: Why talk of the moon and the stars? We are on earth?

S: What would you like him to say? This is poetry. And it has its own meaning.

A: Which is?

S: That the lover will bring his beloved heaven.

A: Absolute falsity.

S: You lack the spirit of romance. It is entirely true. He will bring her the moon and the stars.

A: In what sense.

S: He will bring her heaven upon earth. That is what love is.

A: You have too much of the spirit of romance.

S: Romance jostles with pessimism and cynicism. Love can be entirely hell and the complete opposite of heaven.

A: So why do you support the poetry in these Hindi film songs?

S: Without love, what else is there? Life is insipid and bland without love. It is love that gives life its character.

A: Says you. There are plenty around that won’t love and will never be willing to love.

S: Bland food sells in copious quantities in the supermarkets. Those with the bland tastes of the bland cannot stomach the taste or the food of life which is love.

A: It always veers off into criticism.

S: You criticise love. I criticise the lack of love and what masquerades as love when it is hate. I am Indian. I am the philosopher of love. I am the lover. I am one that lives through the storm and the fire.

A: What song would you sing? What words?

S: Forever I have sought the spark inside the ice/

Forever I have sought the freedom in the vice/

When you look at me with this desire/

Inside consumes the unquenchable fire

border 2 – the martyr inspires courage and not fear

17.02.2025

S: He is back with a bang, my screen idol, Sunny Deol. The Punjabi actor that is me and I am him.

A: He acts. You live.

S: Whatever he is off screen, on the screen he is the ideal of Punjab. He is The Tiger. He is The Voice. He is Anger. And he is Justice.

A: So, I take it you watched Border 2?

S: In this film is the philosophy of the Punjabi. That the warrior is first and foremost a lover. He fights because he is full of love. And the army? It works because of love. Each man is a brother. He is full of love for his brother.

A: This film glorifies war.

S: Does it? It shows the sacrifices that you have to make for war. It shows why you have to protect the people. Because of love. There are those that would rule the world with this oppression. There has to be a man to fight them. The hero. Counting on others to do the right thing always leads to the wrong results.

A: What is the most striking moment of this film?

S: There are many. When the dead man calls on the power of The Mother to fight the enemy. Durga, the Invincible, The Mother Queen. The one I think of the most is when the enemies taunt my hero Sunny Deol. They have killed his only son who was also in the Indian army. They tell him that they will kill him just like they butchered his child. Sunny Deol is silent. He seems defeated. Then we hear the roar of The Tiger. Sunny Deol explodes. He tells them that he will kill them. He tells them that the martyr inspires courage and not fear.

A: You think about this?

S: Does it surprise you? Is it not strange? Instead of fearing death, the hero charges towards it. Instead of saving himself, he saves the world. When he thinks of the dead soldier, he thinks about revenge for the dead soldier. That is the mark of the hero. That is why I am Sunny Deol. Because I run into the face of danger. Because the martyr does not fill me with fear but with courage.

A: You are in love with death.

S: In this death there is glory. We come from the honour culture. The highest honour is that of the warrior, the one that fights to protect Mother Earth and The People.

A: Instead of controlling and managing your anger, you venerate it. You worship revenge.

S: I worship The Dark Mother. She was filled with bloodlust for her enemies. She was uncontrollable. She wiped off sin from the face of the world. We come from the revenge culture. We are Punjabi. Touch one of us and there will be hell to pay. In the film, they say that if they kill thousands of Indians, then we will run away because we are cowards. They give them the answer. If you kill our men all of India will come for payback.

Learning in your own Language and Higher Education in Singapore: Degrees in Mandarin and Social Mobility

Language Barriers in Global Education

A significant barrier to Higher Education for international students from areas of high poverty is that most of these courses are taught in English and have requirements such as the TOEFL (Test of English as a Foreign Language) or IELTS (the International English Language Testing System) English proficiency exams [1]. International students are required to produce an acceptable level of English at the application stage before consideration for courses. 

In the UK, the Home Office has waived the IELTS test for citizens of 18 countries where English is seen as an official language. However, the IELTS is still widely taught in Commonwealth countries such as Nigeria, Ghana, India, and Malaysia [2]. In these countries, cost would be a barrier to social mobility for many since just taking the exam for IELTS costs around two hundred pounds [3]. This is a sum which can be a challenge for students from developing countries.

Students therefore have to spend more money on acquiring English as a language with formal qualifications when it is already difficult for them to raise the funds for a degree abroad in the first place. In addition, gaining the level of English proficiency required to pass them requires a considerable financial and time investment. Therefore, in contrast to English native speakers, the international student community has to invest much more resources in gaining an internationally recognised degree. They have a considerable disadvantage which is heightened by the fact that many come from countries where students may not have many financial resources due to high levels of unemployment and poverty.

Singapore’s Mandarin Programs

The People’s Republic of China and India remain the biggest sources of internationally mobile students, together accounting for around 30% of numbers between 2018 and 2022 [4]. This year, four universities in Singapore, namely NTU, SMU, SUTD and SUSS, have launched new postgraduate programmes in Mandarin which would appeal to Chinese international students [1]. For such students, this therefore eliminates the need for acquiring formal English qualifications at a cost. Furthermore, compared to the US and the UK, university fees in Singapore are relatively lower and therefore more affordable [1]. According to one student on the course, an MBA degree in the US would cost about 1 million yuan (US$140,000), whereas a one-year course in Singapore costs roughly half that amount [5]. The offer appears to cut cost for higher education courses for those that can speak Chinese.

Expanding Access to International Study

Singapore’s policy may offer widened access to higher education for the less privileged. As Jason Tan, associate professor at NTU’s National Institute of Education, Policy, Curriculum and Leadership suggested to Singapore’s CNA938 radio show: “the choice of studying overseas is no longer a privilege only for richer people. We’re getting a much broader spectrum now of families in China who are thinking of a postgraduate overseas degree for their children.” [6]

The social experiment may enable wider access to higher education in Singapore and bring in a greater diversity of students around the world who are not limited by cost considerations to study abroad. Higher education is one of the most certain routes for achieving social mobility and therefore for reducing poverty around the world [7]. A recent study has also shown that foreign-educated graduates can reduce extreme poverty in low and middle-income countries [8]. As Associate Professor of Comparative and International Education at Oxford University, Maia Chankseliani has stated: ‘Returnees use the skills and knowledge they gain abroad to drive local innovations and contribute to societal changes, which can lead to systemic poverty reduction over time’.

[1] https://seafocusnews.com/2025/07/29/1410/

[2] https://studyinternational.com/news/cost-of-english-proficiency-tests/#:~:text=English%20proficiency%20tests:%20Fair%20for,to%20international%20students’%20financial%20burden.

[4] chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://www.oecd.org/content/dam/oecd/en/publications/reports/2025/03/what-are-the-key-trends-in-international-student-mobility_495dcfac/2a423a76-en.pdf

[5] https://www.theonlinecitizen.com/2025/07/30/singapore-universities-mandarin-taught-postgrad-courses-raise-concerns-over-integration-and-language-policy/

[6] https://www.universityworldnews.com/post.php?story=20250903120713648

[7] https://www.suttontrust.com/our-priorities/higher-education/

[8] https://www.ox.ac.uk/news/2024-10-07-study-shows-how-international-student-mobility-can-reduce-poverty-low-and-middle

The Ophiolite

14.02.2025

A: So what did you do on this Valentine’s Day?

S: I went to watch a theatre play, The Ophiolite. It was at this theatre which seemed to have quite a few Greek plays on. Probably someone Greek on the team out there.

A: Would you do Indian plays if you had a theatre?

S: Most probably. Who else does them in London? The sad truth of the world is that you have to do things for yourself that no one else would do. That is the state of humanity. You would like to do everything for everyone. But in fact, you are only allowed to and only can do things for yourself. You would like to be included with everyone. But you can never really be included anywhere else but in the small world that you came from.

A: But you have those from outside your world, your friends, the one that is yours. How can you say this?

S: We are talking about theatre. We are talking about representation. We are talking about the wider world. Not the world of intimacy.

A: You write plays. You are always writing dialogues.

S: Is it a dialogue? Or is it a conversation with the self?

A: What did you make of this play, The Ophiolite?

S: I sat there with a belly full of Turkish kebabs. Hearing them talking about the Turks.

A: Come, I will ask again. What did you make of this play?

S: Greek culture is like Indian culture. We are the ancient cultures that exist into the present.

A: The Greeks do not think that they are Indian.

S: They are our children. We are the most ancient culture.

A: I’m sure the Chinese would beg to differ.

S: We Punjabis, we are the fathers of this world. We are the ones that invented the mathematics that would shape the world. We invented the university and every form and structure of learning that followed.

A: Come to the play.

S: It is about the family. It is about The Mother. It is about the Orphan. It is about Cyprus. It is about love across cultures. It is about how Britain tries to shape the children that come from a marriage across cultures. It is about family and its delusions, its grasp of total purity. It is about the clash of cultures, about the seismic tectonic clash of cultures. It is about mourning. It is about inheritance. It is about Antigone. It is not about Oedipus. It is about Elektra. It is about dying. It is about the law. It is about deceit and it’s relationship with love. It is about fairness. It is about colonialism. It is about postcolonialism, although there is no postcolonialism and only colonialism. It is about romanticism and truth. It is a metacommentary on the theatre tradition from Ancient Greece to Chekov. It is about the nature of understanding and misunderstanding. Above all, the play is about anger.

A: You are the angry. You are the one that rages. You are The Tiger. Only you could understand this play.

S: Only the honour culture understands this play. Because it is fundamentally about honour. Honouring the dead. And honouring the father.

A: If this is about your culture, then why do you say that the Greeks do not think they are Indian?

S: Ask the Greeks why they think so.

A: What did you make of this play?

S: It was the unfolding of passion. It was deep. It was the expression of rage and separation. It was the contest of power between the entities in the play. The younger against the older. The young as the hope for the future. The tense relationship between tradition and modernity, belonging and individualism. The meaning of the nature of freedom in a colonial context. And the law’s orchestration of this freedom and the future.

A: You see much.

S: I am India. We are the Eye of the World. We are the Voice of the World. And we are the Heart of the World.

A: You are performing. You would talk about a play within a play, like Shakespeare.

S: Shakespeare was not as inventive as I am. Because my life is the most engrossing drama that has ever been concocted. Pieces of interest make up this metalwork that is my existence.

A: What do you look at when you watch this play?

S: I watch the drama of the face as the expressions dance upon it. I watch the dance of the bodies and the hands and the legs. I watch the postures adopted. The actions taken. It was all energetic. The acting was electric.

A: Was it natural?

S: The intensity was unnatural. That is why it was conflict and drama. This electricity would confound the world.

A: You too have this intensity within you. You are far from natural. And you play with words which none can stand.

S: He that is the poet would play. He that is the fire would erupt.

A: And in the ending of this play, what was there?

S: Hope. And love.

A: A good ending?

S: I would question whether there was ever hope.

A: You have told me that you are an optimist.

S: I am a realist and a cynic.

A: You would question if there was love?

S: I am the lover and the poet. I am love. I am the god of love. How could I deny my own existence?

A: Well, it is well then that you watched a play about love on Valentine’s Day.

S: They often write of love. They often act of love. But the question is, do they love? And of that, there is no certainty.

https://www.theatrotechnis.com/whatson/the-ophiolite

A Day in Culture – The Tower of London, Lucien Freud, Chinese Children’s Costumes, Suffering Friends and The Motorcyle Diaries

13.02.2026

I was writing to Alfonso. Always Alfonso. I was relating the adventures of the day. He was interested. There were others who were too, for who knows what reasons? Whatever love they had, they would not show it.

In one of the choices of life that make up your everyday existence, I made this choice. That I would choose life over books. Books that are so intoxicating, so stimulating. But that cannot give you love. The company that they give you is fine. But it is not the feel and the sight of that which is most beautiful and most human. It is because of this choice that I dedicated this day to doing and not to reading.

After waking up, I read newspapers and poetry in Hindi, Punjabi, Urdu, Spanish and French. I also read The New Scientist and articles on psychology. There was a very interesting article about the communication network between the organs in the body. Life is about communication. So we communicate. Some of us are understood. Some of us are not. But with me, there is one that makes the attempt to understand. It took an eternity to find them.

In the morning, I went to the Tower of London. There were a group of twenty of us. I have seen this place from afar so many times and now I was going to be inside. It was a fine day although the promise was of rain. As I went inside, I saw that they had launched a children’s trail with Beano comics, comics that I read as a kid. Some familiar faces to guide me in. We started off with the history of the White Tower and I learnt that William of Normandy was the son of a skinner’s daughter. So am I. Our caste in India is of the Untouchables, the leather workers. Inside, after what seemed like a long time inside the armoury and its extensions, I wandered off from the group and went to admire the Crown Jewels. After all, from an Indian perspective, they are ours. They are mine. I was looking at my things. Someone was looking after them for me. The pernicious state that could act as the steward for no one. I looked upon the Kohi Noor, the Mountain of Light. They took it from us, from the hands of a Punjabi child that they forced to bow before them. A stone of rare beauty.

Inside one of the buildings, there was the chapel of the Normans. It was one of the most beautiful places I have seen in my life. I was hypnotised by it. I enjoyed reading about the role of the Tower in the world war and also about the animals that they would keep there. In the imprisonment room, I spent a while reading the grafitti. The message that struck me most was that it is not adversity that overcomes men, but impatience. Watch and wait. That is the secret of wisdom. That is why we hold onto life. Reading the exhibit of how the state had crushed the spirit of resistance was invigorating. They could never kill our resistance. We were difference. And difference you can never crush. The man that was standing in this Tower was one of a long line of those who fought for independence, those willing to take on the biggest bully, the gangster that coerced with duress and evil.

Afterwards, I mooched around in the gift shop for a  moment, admiring the replica of a skull and trying to see all of this through the eyes of a tourist. They were awed by British sovereignty. And I? I was repelled by it.

The Lucien Freud exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery was next. I have never been overly a fan of his work and the supposed psychological depth of his brush. However, I am also always willing to give everyone a chance to prove themselves. Why not? This world that does not give me chances, I cannot become as corrupt as it. Because I am fair where they are not. What I made of the exhibition was that it was certainly passable and certainly striking. Looking at the green, grey and blue tints in the flesh of the sitters, at all of the pictures of his lovers and the intensity of his gaze with its distortions, did I feel anything? I could see the originality and the concentration on observation. Yet I could not see the connection. The mother of the artist had salvaged his brightly coloured doodles in crayon as a child and I spent a while contrasting the mature work with that of the boy. He had lost the feel for colour and gone for moody and sombre tones. But he had retained that simplicity of style.

Seeing the artist’s long row of lovers and then the failures of his romances was sombering. I wondered to myself why there were so many marriages and divorces. And then, his work, it could be seen as the dance of attraction and repulsion as things fell apart. One unfinished painting suggesting the death of the relationship.

At Charing Cross Library, there was an exhibition of Chinese Children’s costumes. There were wonderful fabrics and designs displayed on the balcony of the library. Brilliant colours which captured the identity of the peoples. One story I found absolutely fascinating was that of the Miao people, who wore history upon their textiles in the face of nomadism and the lack of a written language.

At the library, I also picked up a copy of The Motorcycle Diaries by Che Guevera that was on the sale pile. After all, what I am I but the Revolutionary? I also had a dream when I was a teenager of riding on a motorcycle all through Europe. But I did not do it. Because I had too many responsibilities and I was in a hurry to get things done. To work. But then, I come from a different background. I am not of the middle class. I am Indian. Yet I have the love of freedom too. And that is because I am Indian, because I am Punjabi. I read about fifty pages of the book while commuting to and fro from places. Che has a beautiful style. At heart, like The Tiger, he is a poet.

The last stop of the day was with friends. They were suffering politics. They were suffering the state. And yet, they got on with life. And this is the thing. The state will always be there to wreck everyone’s life. But we will still get on with things. We will still live. Even though the state is death. We sat in this coffee house. They had mocha, I had hot chocolate. And we talked and talked. We have missed each other. We talked about old times. We talked about things now. We talked about the future. As I looked into their faces, I thought to myself that a face is not a visual object. It is a fantastic projection. It is all the memories together that replay when you look at the face of someone. That is what constructs the face.

I spent time afterwards looking at the floral arrangements in Selfridge’s for Valentines. Always learning. There were Ikibana exhibitions because the floral shop is now owned by the Japanese. I also looked over at the watch designs. Always looking and looking, always trying to find something in this world. I spent time on the phone with the one that is mine. Listening to their voice, listening to their day.

When I got home, I joined the Central tickets website and booked an excursion to the theatre tomorrow for Valentine’s day, a play about Cyprus and death. A dark play. The reality is that life is dark. But we fill it with light. This world is death. But we want to live.

samurai and the indian hamlet – a day in culture

04.02.2026

I was writing to A. It was always a letter to A. A. was the best of my friends. I was telling them what The Tiger had done today.

It began in the morning with shaving after a week. Then, after a hearty and healthy breakfast, I rushed down to the British Museum for the Samurai exhibition. The space was spectacular. The weaponry, the costumes, the video along a massive wall. The mission was to show that the warrior culture is also an artistic and cultural endeavour. There were splendid Japanese woodblocks and even video games concerning the heroic exploits of the warriors and the ruling class.

This decadent culture looks to the time of the Samurai as an inspiration. A society with honour and with bravery that makes the corruption of the present pale into the insignificance that it is. And where do the Samurai come from? It is not Japan. They come from India and Buddhism. The Samurai are the brothers of India.

I rushed through the Hawaii exhibition afterwards. It was marred by a concentration on the relationships between that country and Great Britain. However, there were some glorious costumes on display, feather necklaces and feather cloaks radiant with the beauty of colour. The grimacing statuettes were splendid in their own way, truly characterful representations of humanoid figures.

The Oxfam bookshop next to the British Museum followed. I am saving a visit there tomorrow at lunchtime to pick up what I spotted if it is still there – fate will decide.

The Outernet was the next distraction before I wolfed down a reduced price M & S gala pork pie for lunch in about ten minutes. I watched a number of videos:

Biophilia by Sebastien Labrunie – about the Mother Tree.

Superradiance by Memo Akten and Katie Hofstadter – About embodiment in the planet

Pools by Maggie West and Scott Pagano – about water absorbing into sand in brilliant colours

Cacophony of Stillness by Jesse Woolston – the expression of natural phenomena in new and challenging ways

Transcendence by Robert Newman – geometry and the depths of the natural world

I played on the Roland piano. There were some really accomplished pianists that played before me and after me. I played something very simple and got one of the accomplished guys to film me. It will go up on my Instagram soon, maybe tomorrow morning.

A jaunt in Liberty next. I have never been there before. The textiles and fabrics were amazing. They reminded me of when I would go into the Indian shops with my mum around Green street and she would buy the Indian fabrics to make her own clothes. I will definitely at some point in my life go there and get a shirt made in one of the fabric designs.

Next stop, Tate Britain. First it was the Lee Miller exhibition. I had watched the film first and this was what was informing my viewings of the photographs. I liked her modelling photographs much more than her photographs as a photographer. There was some video footage of her posing as a statue which drives a poet mad and also her messing around stroking a phallic piece of sculpture and laughing about it, so the exhibition veered into a type of pornography, an impression that was reinforced by the number of nudes of her that were being exhibited. I had studied this period of photography before and it reminded me of my many years of research.

I was somewhat envious of her life. The great difference between being a glamorous woman and being an average man (albeit a handsome one that was a genius and a god). I had never had and never would have the opportunities that she had for love or for a life of high society. She had hung around Picasso and Man Ray, the latter when she was not even famous. The life that I had wanted had never come – being friends or even lovers with artists and writers. She’d had it all.

Desultory walk through the Turner and Constable exhibition looking at the differences between them and their rivalry. I’ve never liked either of them. However, it can’t be denied that they had some spectacular and striking pieces. As I was walking through the gallery, I had the same thought that I always have in these places. The people there will never talk to you. You can’t find any friends or lovers there, any fellow lovers of art. What a degraded time that we live in.

On the way home, I shopped in Tesco and got some reduced price Black Cherry conserve, two whole jars of it. I also had a call with a friend in a country that is going through atrocities and upheaval at the moment.

At home, it was chicken curry and rice followed by hot chocolate cake and custard. Then a phone call with the one that is mine before I watched the Hindi film Dhurandhar that has raked in so much money at the worldwide box office. It was an Indian version of Hamlet where the hero goes into the enemy’s country in the name of justice and revenge. It was a tightly constructed film. Where do I sit on the controversy? India claims that the Pakistani state creates terrorists that attack India. Who knows the truth of these matters? I don’t have the information or the intelligence. Like me, the average person does not. Are Indian people, film makers and the state falsely claiming that the Pakistani state is covertly fighting them? Is this racism? The state is all about racism. That is the precondition for the modern day state, us and them. It is the state that is disgusting and corrupt. Any state. I am an anarchist. I stand for real freedom. I stand for love rather than hate. I watch the film. I don’t let the fiction influence my understanding. All states are corrupt and predicated on hate and terrorism and violence.

Finally, a long shower and then, as always, the writing to A. We are companions of the night.

the persistence of the readers

31.01.2026

S: There was this guy after them. The way that he spoke, the way that he looked at them. They knew it, what it was. Because you can’t fake emotion like that. But it ended with silence and separation. However, then, this guy was a writer. So they are all reading his words.

A: A story that you heard from someone somewhere?

S: Perhaps. Perhaps a story. Perhaps I heard it.

A: Why would someone read from across the distance?

S: Do you think that the guy was completely obtuse? The guy knew that they liked him.

A: Was that not wishful thinking?

S: Then explain why they sit there reading his words. What would be the point of it? Because the story is not over. Because you can’t just kill feelings. But they will be gone soon enough. Separation kills everything. You keep on getting further and further apart from each other.

A: This is a strange story.

S: They were strange people. You know, there is a type of person. When you are close to them, emotionally and in proximity, they do not even see you there. You are not a person to them. But when you are gone, then they suddenly achieve the realisation that you are a person.

A: He has done well to get shot of them. They can only appreciate what they have not got. That is not a good trait.

S: Of course not. But you can’t just cure immaturity and lack of experience. You know, in this society, everyone is expendable. But everyone is not expendable in Punjabi society. They are all jewels, the most precious thing of yours. Here, you can throw anyone away and throw anyone over. Because they believe that they will meet someone just as good or better. There are plenty of opportunities. That is why no one really matters and there is no love in this society. But where I’m from? You would die for the ones that you love. And gladly. You would do anything to keep them. The cultural contrast is too much.

A: But you let the ones that you loved go.

S: You can’t force them to love you back. Their love shrank from expression. There was nothing to be done about it. Now I am with someone that reciprocates feeling.

A: You knew that they liked you.

S: You cannot force yourself on someone. If it was meant to be, it would have happened. They had long enough. Whatever their regrets or joys that they are not with The Tiger, they are not with The Tiger. They read his words. They think of what he is doing. For no reason. No result.

A: And what did The Tiger do today?

S: The Tiger communicated with the one that is his because they can communicate. The Tiger shopped in two bookstores after work. The Tiger went to the gym and worked through his anger and frustration with heavy weights. The Tiger shopped at Lidl. The Tiger finished the novel that the one that is his gave him as a present on his commute. The Tiger drew on his tablet with his stylus. The Tiger wrote. In the day, the Tiger read ‘The Brain on Art’, psychology articles, and the news and poetry in Punjabi, Hindi, Urdu, Spanish and French. Before he caught the train, The Tiger saw a quick film at the Outernet. The Tiger ate a free dinner at Kentucky Fried Chicken. The Tiger keeps busy. He wants to do something with his life. He cannot be with those that do nothing.