Jews of different religions meet on Good Friday in the subway corridors

I did not walk in any subway corridor today, but the silent sadness of today made me think of the Zagajewski poem that I read a long time ago. There is something quite incredible about being alone during holidays, away from home where all relevant rituals are being performed. Swedes of different religions meet today on the pavements of Stockholm, sliding on melted snow, renting dvds for the long weekend and buying tones of candy to stuff their cardboard Easter eggs with them.

Stockholm made me realise how meaningless days like today can be. There are millions people around the world to whom Xmas Eve or the Good Friday are days like any other. That the end of Ramadan or Swedish Midsummer make me feel like a Muslim on Xmas - they are just so unimportant to me.

The discovery that we are all different is very liberating and causes a pinch of loneliness.

I am off to Poland tomorrow at 13.40, towards the eggs breaking while being boiled in onion peels and, probably, towards the snowstorm on the day of Ressurection.