Yesterday evening during work I ditched a half hour and made a visit to the Trilogy bookstore here at Lower Parel. I had just discovered their Instagram account earlier and saw Jerry Pinto was there not long ago for a workshop. The person/(proprietor?) who billed my books confirmed this.

“Any chance he might come again anytime soon?”
“Nothing’s planned as of now”

There are reasons this incident is so tragic to my life:

1. Jerry Pinto’s Em and The Big Hoom connected so deeply to me because his family felt so much like my own. I could not help but compare his mom’s struggles to my mom’s. While my mom is not bipolar she’s suffered from chronic migraines for a long time now.

2. Living in less connected places like my hometown or Baroda I’d always wished for places that might host people like me, writers and artists. Now that I do have a place, a place which hosts these writers flesh and bone, writers which I have come to deeply value all that stops me is my own schedule and the bliss of not knowing at the right time that these things are happening. I also missed a free Peter Cat Recording Co. concert last Friday, not even half a kilometer away from where I work at High Street Phoenix!

Anyway.

See you tomorrow,
Avi.