This morning, the temple was bedecked in green and yellow, marigold and asopalav.
Lovely rangolis, chants in the air and a queue of the hopefuls.
At the track there is a fresh coat on the trees, as tender green unfurls on the badam and palm. Sunlight gleams off spray at the fountain, and you look up and notice a few scattered clouds riding high on a pale sky, a crow or something wheeling in the distance.
At the block of flats next door, a live band is playing, a piece entirely tender, wistful and precious. A requiem.
You bow and genuflect as you pass by.
In the midst of darkness, there is light.
What is new is attention grabbing, attractive, interesting.
If something is known and that too, known well, then there is a base.
Anything beyond is at best, only incremental. So already factored in.
True for stocks as for people.
There is something in our genes which periodically craves this uptick of novelty, the frisson of the unexpected.
Yesterday was ok, but most of this week there was red on the street. Complete randomness and fools, as the book says. When she sashayed from 9000 levels to 14000 plus, didn’t we all watch, cheer, pray, wring hands and clap at each rise? Didn’t we jostle collective memories and point to the great Indian growth story? Did it evaporate overnight, like India Shining? Which one of us looked askance at volume and price toppers on the index, wondering where on earth, who what why? So now? Payback time, so hold tight, enjoy the ride.