As I walk through central Zagreb, I occasionally bump into people who know me from Motovun. If they happen to be surprised to see me in the Croatian capital, I explain that I used to hate the place, but that my feelings have changed the last few years. Besides, Motovun is not what it used to be, either. If the opportunities are right, I add that my beloved lives in the city, which makes quite a bit of difference. We love each other, I conclude with a big grin. But I will need to change my story, which has become kind of threadbare by now. My beloved went on a trip yesterday morning, and she will be back this evening. In the meanwhile, I am spending most of my time cowering in her apartment. To put it bluntly, I hate Zagreb. Of course, I have nothing against the bricks and mortar. In fact, I hate the people here. As well as in Motovun, I hasten to add. I can imagine feeling the same no matter where I settled in this forlorn country. It is my beloved who brought me here, and it is she who keeps me in this place to this day. Period. And this is how my story should go whenever I bump into people who know me from Motovun. My beloved and I love each other, and that is all there is to it, I should conclude with a scowl.

Addendum (December 17, 2012)

Less than a day later, I find myself in an entirely different mood. Amazing! I cannot suppress a smile wherever I go. The faces. The postures. The outfits. I find everyone around me funny beyond belief. Nay, ridiculous. Is this the secret behind the Buddha’s irrepressible smile, I cannot but wonder? The ridiculousness of it all is indeed pressing upon me. Hail, Zagreb, the city of my birth! And how about my beloved? She is at work as I write, but she is well within reach. Ah, the fickleness of the human mind!