Even as a child my face was ?gloomy.? I found few reasons to smile, none to laugh: father gutting his great gifts for the cheers of clowns. For us. For money. My mother dazed by drugs. My brother charming, selfless. But also smirking, corrupt. All lying, and loving each other. Comedy? From the fool?s angle, the coward?s angle. Laughter means turning your back on suffering. And on the hard truth that tragedy writes the last act?always. I loved the sea because it said that. With infinite dignity and calm and terrible firmness. Knowing too well the struggle and sorrow of life I tried hard to believe, to help. In plays I wanted to bring our past alive?the brave dreams. But probing deep I saw cruelty, decay. In my last year I could only rage that our country too had cast away the best chance ever?like my father! For greed, blind greed, we grew deaf to the one question that matters, ?What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world but...? Damn! Damn our dumb callousness.