Many years later while listening to Schubert at night and tasting salt on his lips,

he yearns to be at that past shoreline again, where salt, like laughter in the air, was everywhere:

within, without. It laid its hands over them as they huddled in the hull-shade, away from an unrelenting sun,

and left white sweaty maps he carried (along with old songs made new) for a night or so, on his back into this arcless journey.

Schubert, salt, songs, shoreline.

Sepia Mutiny discusses if Ms. Aishwarya Rai selling L’Oreal Hair Color (why the fcuk any desi woman would want to change her hair color from stunning black to bleached brown in beyond me!) to the goras/ firangis is a gaint step for desi-kind?

I think not, not especially after this (not that I liked Ms. Rai in the first place anyway; the haterade fuglies like me have for beautiful people):

To add more noise to Sepia, I put Google to work and unearthed the following "outlier" photos of Ms. Rai:

without makeup; in those 80s hairstyles; as a dorky teenager.

What miracles time and the lards of makeup have wrought! :)