
We’re gone with the departing;
You know, they depart, and with them we do.
We’re seen with the departing;
You know, they come back, and with them we do.

We’re gone with the departing;
You know, they depart, and with them we do.
We’re seen with the departing;
You know, they come back, and with them we do.

The Optical Reflection of Matters – as my eyes have seen,
The Mechanical building of Reality – as my mind has done,
The Physical Existence of the World – as my body has lived;
That it’s not real but virtual by a concoction of Optical Illusion
Thwarts every thread of truth against Truth, the Reality of Things
Spelling a concatenation of Physical Existence in their Pristine Essences
Because what I have seen and see is not what it has been and it is
As the trickery of eyes knows not its shenanigans that becomes
Bold and bolder ever till Light of Intellect dawns on me with rains
Of benevolence on the parched earth of my Ignorance with Truth.
Sometimes I feel like a mad scientist who relentlessly pursues any signals of supernal intelligent being in the universe when I write my book reviews, poems, and occasionally attempted short short stories on my little lonely blog. I do it because for the love of act of writing and the ambition of writing better. Simple as that.
And Voila! At last, I was able to catch such signal coming from the most unexpected galaxy of Great Writers this week: That my book review on a fabulously well-written modern thriller, The Flight Attendant got the attention of its equally fabulously brilliant author, Mr. Chris Bohjalian, who not only read the review but also gave me kindly comments on the review thwarts all of my provisional existential worries like magic.
So I guess my endeavors to improve my writing skills for love of literature and history have not been in vain after all. Francis Bacon’s timeless adage of “Reading makes a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man.” has been one of my credos. Now Mr. Bohjalian’s warm encouragement shall be my new, fresh literary memento. What more can I say? I now have stardust.
I have just checked my neglected tweeter and found out that Mr. Bohjalian, the writer of The Flight Attendant about which I wrote a book review, left such a kindly compliment thereon. I am much obliged for the commendation. This made my day!
The Flight Attendant by Chris Bohjalian

The diamond sparkles of starry night
The lunar beauty ever so bright
The sky becomes a gallery of light.
It’s one fine Saturday afternoon, and Hans Bauer and Zeus Magoo are as cheerful and loquacious as sparrows in the morning sky as they are talking away about the weekly panorama of Avonlea,families, and businesses at the delightful brunch hosted by their good business partner John Elephant, who has not only an acute business mind but also intelligence embodied in geniality out of his deep concern for humanity. So as a token of appreciation of individuality, John asked Hans and Zeus in advance of their choices of brunch rather than deciding the menu on his part (or his wife Rachel’s, to be precise). It’s in fact convenient for Rachel to prepare for the guests’ meals and also interesting to detect a trace of character and personality in each of the meals by its ingredients and condiments it accompanies. As tree is known by its fruits, a persona can be interpreted by what he eats to a certain extent because people tend to stick to diets of their choice.

“I must say it has been a fine week weather-wise, ” John says blissfully before having the first bite of his lobster cooked in his favorite vino by Rachel, “It’s spring in earnest, and we are entering Season of Summer as if we are flying on an airplane! Speaking of which, I am going to California next week to consider buying a two-story house there. My experience with treacherous weathers on the East compelled me to look westward. In fact, California reminds me a lot of Cape Town, where I came from. But I am unsure whether or not my whole family will have to relocate there. I am thinking of Rancho Santa Margarita in southern California. That’s where I am going to look around first.
Zeus Magoo, who runs a convenient kiosk on 1291 Suhs Avenue, is surprised by John’s sudden intention of relocation to California because to Zeus moving a place of livinghood with a family, let alone his means of business seems to be too risky a business itself. “Well, it’s a nice idea to get away from the grim East, but I don’t think the nice weather should be the alpha factor to make you decide to uproot your livinghood, John. I mean, you can always vacation there with your family to escape from the blustery winter days, but moving there for good may ensue unforeseeable implications you can’t think of. Of course, you have enough resources to officiate a new residential and business addresses in the Sunshine State, but you need to think about this moving there carefully.”
“Yes, I agree with Zeus on that.” Hans Bauer, a tram conductor of thirty years, chimes in with his quiet agreement. “John, you are a man of prudence and sagacity, so it is hardly to expect you to act on impulses or whims. Think again, and think good. We don’t want to lose our trusty John to the Wild West. Surely, the eastern climate is not the most cheerful not salubrious to the sunny temperament, such as you possess, but then it’s not too bad to live here. At least, it’s better than Hanover, where I cam from at the age of eighteen.” Hans is then momentarily carried away by the floaty recollections of his early year with a melody of nostalgia.
The Trio’s brun table is filled with delicious food and general bonhomie air mixed with a certain pang of farewell, expectations for fortuitous future, and memories of the good old days that each of them is feeling at the same time. All in all, there is nothing more like having someone to talk to in times of need. That’s why Epicurus once said, “We should look for someone to eat and drink with before looking for something to eat and drink.”

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