Remainder

I see the world as a heap of debris – physical debris - and in language, symbols. All are carrying traces of events that do not have a replay button. The world exists as remainder.

Stone is the signpost of eternity. It does not die. It survives as fossil, relic, ruin, remainder. We leave with all our fragile emotions and writing toolkits. Stone stands alone to tell our stories. Everywhere in Vrindavan, there is the language of stone. It is continually spitting out time through its cracks. People paint Shri Radha Shri Radha on stone exteriors of the ghats. In bright concentric circles. The cry Radhe Radhe, or Shri Radha expands onto the corners of the horizon. I see Radha moving about the alleyways kicking up sunset dust.