To kill the ninety minutes that it takes to reach office, I started reading 'Eleven minutes'. This is a book by Paulo Coelho. I didn't pick it from amongst many. One friend passed it on to me a couple of days back and I decided to keep it for some time.

I have read 120 pages of the 275. The book is interesting. The book is about a prostitute. Or rather, the making of a prostitute. The book occasionally talks about love and a couple of sentences did leave a mark. Let me quote something for those who haven't read 'Eleven minutes'.

In love, no one can harm anyone else; we are each of us responsible for our own feelings and cannot blame someone else for what we feel.

It hurt when I lost each of the various men I fell in love with. Now, though, I am convinced that no one loses anyone, because no one owns anyone.

That is the true experience of freedom: having the most important thing in world without owning it.