AT 16:00 hours (4 pm), on Friday July 3, I was in a meeting with the secretary of a heritage society discussing the production of a magazine to capture some of the noteworthy projects of that society which were executed over the past twenty five years when Nicky’s fish shop interrupted that worthy and voluntary effort with a cacophony of sounds unheard of and uncalled for since the word bedlam came into use.

Earlier in the day, I witnessed the erection by the fish shop of a 20 by 20 tent alongside the now permanent one and my heart sunk; I am about to loose a whole night’s rest, lost of prime study time and lost of part of the next day due to lack of sleep.

At 18:00 hours (6 pm), I left the noise behind to attend the launch of the book, ‘Here are your Heroes, Caribbean’ by Standhope Williams at the National Library. The next few hours were pure bliss, intellectually blissful as presenters after presenters made this world a wonderful place in which to live. Graceful, congenial, inspiring words uttered by the ilk of Justice Oslen Small, Magda Pollard, Dr. Faith Harding, Enrico Woolford and others were gratifying, stimulating, and encouraging. Here we entered a world of hope, glory, bliss and satisfaction.

Walking out with the judge, we acknowledged the peace of the city night. And it hit me like my retrenchment letter in 1980s that I am heading into a storm of noise and lawlessness of which the long arm of the law seemed crippled.

Yes, the pounding went on to midnight. And yes, I couldn’t concentrate on neither the production of the magazine or the reviewing of the book with which I was just blessed. I couldn’t even perform the robotic task of scanning material for another publication, ‘Re-reading Edgar Mittelholzer’. And yes, I lost a night’s rest and am struggling to cope with the next day.
PETAMBER PERSAUD