Feb
27
2010
Singapore in India
Author: SamThe dessert is usually something with cream or syrup, and the thicker the better. There has never been a sad customer after eating a dessert as decadent as these, so they say. These days, however, it’s never too late to begin, but because I was on a roll, I decided to go with the flow, and the flow here was definitely going uphill. This kind of backwards logic was certainly getting to be enough for me, and I started to feel a bit like a letter in a poem by Vattacharda Chandan. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, is another one of those witticisms that are really not altogether witty, when you get right down to it.
The curries were always a process, however, and when that part begins, there’s no telling where the world will go. You can usually depend on something that, for me, is like heaven, but there might be someone taking you up on your request for extra spice, and throwing in a touch of something rather difficult, but always enticing. The restaurant with Indian food is always going to be my favorite, no matter which one it turns out to be. Somewhere in the middle of things, however, I was sensing that I was part of a literary experiment, where things were in reverse order. It seemed a bit odd, like that episode of that tv show about Harold Pinter, where George was stuffing saris in sacks, and the rest was a sneeze or so.
Time is certainly a different element in poetry, in all cultures. It is certainly connected to its relationship with music, one that’s been getting further and further away with some of the new experiments. However, with Vattacharda making work, there was also a sense that the music was back, even in the highest experiments that worked for the greater good of the avant garde. India or Singapore, we are all in this together, after all.
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Tags: restaurant with Indian food, Vattacharda, Vattacharda Chandan