If It Was Good Enough For St Francis...

manfalling is going to India. We have a perpetual reminder of that in the shape of his bike, which he has left in our safe-keeping. It fills up most of our front hallway, blocking the passage with its ram-like horns.

I mean its handlebars. They're wide, They're vicious.

I like the way he decided to go. Just like that. Had the notion Tuesday, got his visa Wednesday, his ticket Thursday, and he flies out- the first available flight- at 8.30 this evening.

He goes to find himself, which is what one does in India.

Like the Beatles, like Mia Farrow, like Tom Tinker (a pop star played by Michael York) in the charming but forgotten early Merchant Ivory movie- the Guru.

manfalling doesn't have a particular guru in his sights. The whole of India will be his guru. He will step of the plane in Delhi- and then see what happens.

That's the way to live!

St Francis' disciples couldn't decide which towns to go preach in. So he told them all to spin round and round on the spot until they fell over. "Now head off in the direction you're facing," he said.

There's No Smoke, So It Must Be Water

A noise makes me go to the window. A sort of spluttering noise. It could be water pouring from an overflow pipe or it could be a bonfire. Without seeing I can't be sure. How odd that fire and water should sound the same.