Me: Cutie pie! Cutie pie! Cutie pie!
Chewie: Why do you keep calling me Pai? I’m not a Malayali.
Me: I mean bhai, spoken like a Punjabi. Not Pai, like a Mallu.
Chewie: Oh.. well, then it’s fine. We are bros, alright.
A conversation about writing books, from the book ‘Summertime’ by J.M. Coetzee:
‘Do you really believe that? That books give meaning to our lives?’
‘Yes. A book should be an axe to chop open the frozen sea inside us. What else should it be?’
‘A gesture of refusal in the face of time. A bid for immortality.’
There’s more: though it drags a little, I like the way it ends (after the break)
Need a few friends who live nearby, drink and can speak easy with – starved of good conversations and regular alcohol.