Shalimar the Clown"The world does not stop but cruelly continues, the widows chorused in the hallways. At a time of tragedy you wonder at it, the world's capacity for continuing. When our husbands left us we expected the planet to cease its spinning so we could all float off into space, we expected silence, respect, but the traffic doesn't care what the heart needs, the billboards don't care, things move right along. There's a new giant lady holding a golden beer bottle up near the Chateau. There's a new place a mile east, women dance on the bar while the smart kids howl with lust. Lust continues, sure it does, honey, power continues, bargains are struck, hands are shaken and arms are twisted, winners and losers continue, honey, dog walking continues, right on our block the dogs walk past the scene of the crime every morning, dogs don't care, they move on. The new horror movies open every Friday, business is business ... craziness continues, black magic continues, the darkness never ends. Clothes are on sale all around. Clothes go on, also goes on the hunger of the citizens and the relief of hunger. There is fine pizza to be had. Valet parking continues. The stars come out to play. A woman's father dies, she mourns alone. His death is already old news."
from Salman Rushdie's latest masterpiece, Shalimar the Clown
We always think we're the center of the universe but at no other time is this truer in our minds than when tragedy rears its ugly head. We expect the world to stop because of whatever has befallen us, but we forget that life goes on all around and that only our tiny microcosm is shaken by our earth-shattering event. It's not an indictment of human egocentric thinking, rather a statement of the seeminlgy unbearable weight of tragedy. Rushdie truly captures the spirit of human vulnerability.