Scrambled images and lines from the last week, lines that it seems imperative to hold on to, to wear on my skin; a train proudly rushing past an empty platform, battle weary at midnight; live orchestra at a wedding and the once propah Mrs Patels settling the floor alight, bollywood style; listening to the elder’s somber halting words about being brown in 1959’s UK, racism, desperation and a curmudgeonly knight.