On Beauty

I can watch horses all day long. The way each horse is different, the way they gallop, trot and race gracefully, refuse to acknowledge your presence, try to catch your eye, come eagerly to eat the apple in your hand, or pretend to with wild, wicked gleams plot to bite you instead. I love their rich colours, glossy coats, careless manes and taut muscles.

This is a good approximation of a day at the races in Calcutta, actually.