A quote from Sean after a particularly sleepless night on my end:
Early morning is a normal Jalina bed time, your body clock being aligned with India, as much as your taste buds are. If I wish to know what you are doing, or gauge the state of your wakefulness, I need only glance towards Mumbai, or Madras, it seems, and ask how distant the locals are, from their beds, or their slumbers. Or am I spinning the globe in the wrong direction, where I ought to be tracing a line towards the west, continent wise, and could pluck an equally exotic country from South America somewhere, the home of chocolate and coffee and mahogany forests, whose solid trees tingle to the songs of exotic night birds? You might be equally at home, in either hemisphere, discounting the heat, and yet you also belong here, in Oxford, chateleine key soon springing the doors of the library vaults, allowing you to scoop pannier piles of books, into the pockets of your skirts, your walk along the river paths being swayed upon the pendulum weight of words.