The father and the assassin

Train to London this morning. Good seat & got plenty of work done. Arrive on time & check in to Airbnb. Then to WeWork to catch up with my colleagues.

I get into the office easily enough, but then have to wait for someone to escort me from the 6th floor to the 3rd floor. I don’t actually go into the office, because Séverine tested positive today. Vineeta is isolating in Bath because she tested positive too. And Brian has decided, wisely, to cancel tomorrow’s meeting.

So, I rebook my return journey for tomorrow morning and go to the south bank for a solo night of culture. I start with dinner at the BFI - a plate of Padron peppers followed by a Middle Eastern influenced roast cauliflower. And then to the National for the final preview of The Father and the Assassin - a new play about the life of the man who killed Gandhi.

It’s a good play - lots of historical figures and a good dose of polemic. There are interesting parallels with modern day nationalists everywhere. The acting was great, the set impressive (as always), and the music and choreography blended perfectly. The only slip I notice is when the lead says that 200 million people died during partition. I reckon 200 thousand is more plausible.