Goodbye London

We are at Heathrow awaiting our plane back to Delhi. Spent Christmas in London with Isaac and Jennifer and Charlotte and Jane--And others added to make a great holiday. Plenty of walking around London and lots of theater. Saw Pinter's No Man's Land days after his passing. Saw a Hamlet that was moving and funny. Saw Rowan Atkinson as Fagan in an old fashioned Oliver. Am I wrong or is every song in Oliver an archetype--stored away at the base of your brain? "Food Glorious Food", "Who Will Buy This Beautiful Morning", "Consider Yourself At Home", "Pick a Pocket Or Two", "As Long As He Needs Me." There were others too.

I must admit that as much as I loved the vacation, my senses were overloaded and frayed most of the time. I could have done for more days wrapped in a blanket. I keep thinking of Theroux and his wisdom that luxury blocks wisdom. And rambunctious luxury all the more.

I didn't feel much of the Christmas spirit this year, it wanes more each year. I am a stranger to it--and believe me I am one who was at one time an adoring adherent to the whole thing--the whole over the top, tinsled, music filled, Christ-centered but also Santa circling thing.

What a line in Hamlet: There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.