and I debated the true essence of life. What can I say? We were in Paris and we both like to philosophise abstractions. So there we sat, with our midnight picnic spread of fresh olives, baguette, cheese, and a bottle of 2005 Boxler’s Pinot Gris—and inspired by the city’s deep sense of beauty, passion, art, food, and style. Fluent in Sanskrit, and I hate to admit this but, more well read than I, he propounded to me the theory of the nau rasa of life. Rasa, literally means juice or sap but implies the core essence of something. In theatre, literature, and many other arts, there’s a traditional Indian concept of nau rasa—nine distinct emotions. But in Paris, that evening, to me, they were more than emotions. They had other…
