Knock me down with a feather

This bit of verse just slays me. It's a Molimo song of the pygmies of the Congo (I don't know what that is, but it's stuck in my head all these years), and I've long dropped out of touch with the chap who pointed me to it many years ago. Here it is..

"If you must be candid, be so beautifully,
For there is a man in the neighbourhood who is dying"

The Uniform Project

This impromptu resurfacing is solely aimed at plugging an old friend's fundraising project.

Read all about Sheena and the Uniform Project on HuffPo, the Guardian, Change.org and a zillion other websites.

All of this fuss over S has triggered just one pointless, existential doubt within myself: if she's classified as a "Brooklyn native", I certainly hope I am not classified as a "Bloomsbury native". Resident, not native.... we are 110% indigenous to South India (w)only. Besides, I am quitting my neighbourhood in 2 months for warmer climes in a warmer hemisphere.