The sign on the carnival entrance said: “Welcome to the Desolation of the Mind”.

I stepped in heartless, curiosity overcoming my distaste. A sea of faces washed uncomprehendingly over me; arms and legs dancing an insane tango. Perfect men and women, with perfect bodies and perfect hair and perfect clothes, walked a perfect gait, said perfect things in the perfect language, ate perfect food with perfect relish, found perfectly beautiful artefacts in perfectly exotic stalls and gave them perfect appreciation. I choked. Here were men and women, polished as a mirror, so that when you looked in, all that was to be found were reflections. There was no inside. ‘Inside’ had been thrown away – why keep something that wouldn’t be noticed? Spirits flowed freely, and the sky was drunk. “Free for a price! Free for a price!” said the hawker. “Step in for Happiness – all kinds available” said his sign. The sannyasi* with his gold earring and Gucci watch was selling rose-oil scented spirituality for those who wanted it applied behind their ears in the mornings. “Come my son,” he said, “this will raise your soul to heaven, and all your karma will be washed away.” I ran away, my karma safe. Here was Reason, driftwood in a stormy sea of Passion. I felt like flotsam washed upon the beach – out of place, far away from home, barnacled and covered with the weeds that entangle unwary travellers to the ocean’s deep. I walked outside and peered in, and all I could hear was silence. And the sea rolled on as it had ever since…