Amit Varma is a writer based in Mumbai. He worked in journalism for over a decade, and won the Bastiat Prize for Journalism in 2007. His bestselling novel, My Friend Sancho, was published in 2009. He is best known for his blog, India Uncut. His current project is a non-fiction book about the lack of personal and economic freedoms in post-Independence India.
[T]he days are so long I do not know any more what to do with a day—I have no “interests” at all. Deep down, a motionless black melancholy. And fatigue. Mostly in bed—that is the best thing for my health. I had become very thin—people were amazed; now I have found a good trattoria, and will feed myself up again. But the worst thing is: I no longer see why I should live for another six months—everything is boring, painful, dégoûtant. I forgo and suffer too much, and have come to comprehend, beyond all comprehension, the deficiency, the mistakes, and the real disasters of my whole past intellectual life. It is too late to make things good now; I shall never do anything that is good any more. What is the point of doing anything?
No, I am not quoting from it because I identify with it. I am not thin, and I haven’t really had an ‘intellectual life.’ Apart from that, well, I don’t know…
Sita Sings the Blues: The Greatest Break-Up Story Ever Told
Dev.D doesn't flinch from depicting the individual’s downward spiral
9 across: Van Morrison classic from Moondance (7)
6 down: Order beginning with ‘A’ (12)