Girl in a Band and Pasta with Salmon

“Is what we get out of performance today any different now than it was then? No, it’s the same thing: the need for transcendence, or maybe just a distraction – a day at the beach, a trip to the mountains – from humdrum life, boredom, pain, loneliness. Maybe that’s all performance ever was, really. An unending kiss – that’s all we ever wanted to feel when we paid money to hear someone play.” – Girl in a Band

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The Unbearable Lightness of Being and Chocolate Hazelnut Cake

“Because were she to die here they would cover her up with a stone, and in the mind of a woman for whom no place is home the thought of an end to all flight is unbearable.” – The Unbearable Lightness of Being

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Chekhov’s Stories and Naan Pizza

“The river ran on, no one knew where or why, just as it had in May; from a small stream it flowed into a large river, from the river to the sea, then rose in vapor and returned in rain; and perhaps the very same water he had seen in May was again flowing before his eyes … For what purpose? Why?” – ‘The Kiss’, Anton Chekhov’s Selected Stories

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Homage to Brussels

 

The flags outside the European Council building in Brussels fly at half-mast mourning the 31 killed and hundreds injured in the devastating bombings that befell on Tuesday 22 March. Twin blasts occurred around 8:00 AM (GMT+1) at Zaventem airport, Belgium’s principal air hub located on the outskirts of Brussels. An hour later a bomb was detonated in Maalbeek metro station in the city centre in close proximity to EU and other government offices.

Brussels is my home town. I am not a Belgian national but I was born and raised in Brussels. It is where I returned during the seemingly endless college summers and winters, it is where I live now, it is a city I will always come back to. When I heard about the attacks, I was in the house that I grew up in, surrounded by what is most familiar to me. I went downstairs and switched on the television.

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Since the Paris attacks of last November, I feared that it would only be a matter of time before some act of extreme violence occurred in Brussels. It is a city that amalgamates people from a vast range of different cultures and backgrounds. While this often results in a unique and exciting atmosphere, sometimes it leads to rapid radicalisation and the marginalisation of certain individuals.

I remember attending classes given by a professor who had lived through the Northern Irish Troubles. He spoke of the literature that emerged in those fraught times and described the way in which he became fixated with news bulletins, how they developed into an addiction of sorts. I have felt this way over the past days. I am glued to various screens and the Twitter feed of local media organisations. I am desperate to know more, while being simultaneously sickened by the situation.

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In the minutes after finding out about the attacks, after I had cried in rage and dismay, I attempted to contact my parents who work in the area around the Maalbeek metro station. I couldn’t get through because of the traffic on the phone networks. Eventually I received a message from my mother to tell me she was fine but had not heard from my father. I was nervous, but finally got news that he was well. It later transpired that he had exited Maalbeek metro station on his way to work ten minutes before the bomb went off. He never takes public transport in the mornings and did so on Tuesday only in order not to be late for a meeting.

Although my loved ones are safe and I am grateful for this, I cannot experience complete relief because many others have been less fortunate. I am disturbed that such atrocities continue to befall in this day and age. I am miserable that I only feel their full impact now that my home town has fallen victim, the place where, in my eyes, “the spirit meets the bone”, as Lucinda Williams so beautifully puts it. We live in strange times. Death can occur at any moment and seems so completely random. The phoenix rising from the ashes, however, is the solidarity that people have so courageously shown, in Brussels’s Place de la Bourse (pictured above) and further afield.

I hear fewer sirens in the distance now. Tragedies befall and we must continue, the way the sun keeps on rising and setting.

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Lions of the Grunewald and Shrimp Toast

“I say things but I may mean times. I say things and times but I may mean persons and places, or maybe just thinking of you. Your name at the end of the world. That’s how it goes, how it always went, how it always will go. One replaces another in what you call Herz and the light goes out.” – Lions of the Grunewald

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A Farewell to Prague and Iced Tea

“Each new city was a prospective new shirt, a transcendence, a conquering of the pain, but in each transcendence – a red-haired woman looking at you in London, a candle burning on two embracing cupids in Paris, a restaurant in Rome with fishnets on the wall which gave bills of yellow with burgundy lines – what was most beautiful about the place you came from.” – A Farewell to Prague

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