“The mind is an ancient and famous capital”, wrote Delmore Schwartz. Perhaps cities are bodies too, and like bodies, they contain memories and stillborn dreams. In the brutal furnaces of the great cities of the world, of Calcutta, New York, Rome, Rio, Karachi, Lahore;generations upon generations are smelted and their essence turned into fuel for the great System. Yet poets lurk the streets – Jibanananda Das, Kundera, Auden. In secret, moonlit rooms lovers meet. Rivers run under the skin of the streets, conjured by the fingers of the moon. We play peek-a-boo into each other’s mirrors. Somewhere in the heart of the city lies a garden of earthly delights. All cities are, perhaps, shadows of mirror city – Arshinagar.
Let’s celebrate – Strange Factory.