Lets remember the true son of the soil, on his third death anniversary and gather courage to fight against corruption and injustice.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Remembering Satyendra Dubey
Lets remember the true son of the soil, on his third death anniversary and gather courage to fight against corruption and injustice.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
On a Stone Raft I float
 Ever since I started reading, I mean consciously, i made it a habit that for every book I read, I'll make a note of all the lines I liked in that particular book. I did the same this time while reading the brilliant "The Stone Raft" by Jose Saramago. Written originally in portugese, The Stone Raft is a book that was so different from the works of the various Nobel laureates I have read so far. Devoid on any complexities, the beauty of this book lies in the fact that it is simple and yet so deep. As an indication of what this book is about, I would say this belongs to the same genre as Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist. And that brings another point, its ironical that I have to use Coelho as a reference to introduce Saramago when it should be the other way round.
Ever since I started reading, I mean consciously, i made it a habit that for every book I read, I'll make a note of all the lines I liked in that particular book. I did the same this time while reading the brilliant "The Stone Raft" by Jose Saramago. Written originally in portugese, The Stone Raft is a book that was so different from the works of the various Nobel laureates I have read so far. Devoid on any complexities, the beauty of this book lies in the fact that it is simple and yet so deep. As an indication of what this book is about, I would say this belongs to the same genre as Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist. And that brings another point, its ironical that I have to use Coelho as a reference to introduce Saramago when it should be the other way round. Tourists who are out and about early are like this, at heart troubled and restless, unable to accept life’s inescapable brevity, late to bed and early to rise does not make one healthy, but it does prolong life.
For something  to exist there are two essential conditions, that a man should see it  and that he be able to give it a name.
Bad examples  have always prospered and borne more fruit than good advice, and who  can tell by what rapid means bad example is transmitted.
In the various  arts, and above all in that of writing, the shortest distance between  two points, even if close to each other, has never been and never will  be, nor is it now, what is known as a straight line, never, never, to  put it strongly and emphatically in response to any doubts, to silence  them once and for all.
Cowardice is  worse than an octopus, an octopus can both contract and extend its arms,  cowardice can only contract them.
There are people  who do not believe in coincidences, when one is constantly discovering  coincidences in the world and is beginning to wonder if coincidences  are not the very logic of this world.
Clarity and  obscurity cast the same shadow and light, obscurity is clear, clarity  is obscure, and as for someone being able to say factually and precisely  what he feels and thinks, don’t you believe it, not because he doesn’t  want to, but because he cannot.
To be jealous  of what only appears to exist is a waste of effort.
Priorities  of past should not be allowed to hinder the future.
Why bother  discussing the reasons, sometimes one is enough, at other times not  even lumping them all together will do it, if your own lives haven’t  taught you this, too bad for you, and I repeat, lives not life, for  we all have several, and fortunately they kill each other off, otherwise  we wouldn’t be able to survive.
What count  is the moment, we only serve the moment, and moments give us no warning  when they’re coming.
A journey only  makes sense if you finish it.
Reaching a  decision means saying yes or no, the merest whisper on one’s lips,  the difficulties come later when one puts the decision into practice,  as we learn from human experience, gained with time and patience, with  few hopes and even fewer changes.
Wars are like  disasters, they never come singly, the first is a trial run to test  the ground, the second to improve performance, the third to secure victory,  each of them being, according to where you start counting, third, second,  and first.
We often hallucinate  when we dearly want something, our wise body takes pity on us, simulates  within itself the satisfaction of oure desires, that is what dreaming  means, If it weren’t so, how we could ever bear this intolerable life.
Real love means  keeping no secrets from one’s beloved, the worst comes later when  the romance is over and the lover who has confided his secrets regrets  having spoken while the beloved abuses his confidence.
Nature is masterly  when it comes to composing spectacles attuned to human circumstances.
The potential  harmony of things depends on their equilibrium and the time when they  occur, not too soon, not too late, which explains why it is so difficult  for us to attain perfection.
Men also weep,  its nothing to be ashamed of, and weeping only does them good.
Anyone who  knows anything about words knows to expect anything from them.
While there’s  life, there’s hope, so do not despair.
Governments  are only capable and effective at times when there is no real need to  put their ability and effectiveness to test.
Each of us  sees the world with the eyes he possess, and eyes see what they choose  to see, eyes create the world’s diversity and fabricate its wonders.
Dying for the  sake of dying is preferable to dying of hunger or some malignant disease.
Courage and  fear are the two pans on the scale that oscillate while the pointer  remains still, paralyzed by the amazement at the useless invention of  emotions and feelings.
Despair, as  we all know, is human, there is no evidence in natural history that  animals despair. Yet man, inseparable from despair, has become accustomed  to living with it, endures it to its extremes.
In moments  of crisis indulging the flesh is what best serves the deeper interests  of humanity and of human beings, both habitually harassed as they are  by morality.
Journeys succeed  each other and accumulate like generations, between the grandson you  were and the grandfather you will be, what father will you have been.  Therefore a journey, however futile, is necessary.
For the strong  to brag about their strength in the presence of the weak is a sign of  moral perversion.
We all end  up where we want to be, its only a question of time and patience, the  hare goes faster than the tortoise, perhaps it will arrive first, so  long as it does not cross the path of the hunter and his shotgun.
The world is  full of coincidences, and if one thing does not coincide with another  that happens to be close to it, that is no reason for denying coincidences,  all it means is that what is coinciding is not visible.
The wounds  of the soul are deep, otherwise they would not be of the soul.
Your questions  are false if you already know the answer.
We are probably  incapable of filling emptiness, and what we call meaning is no more  than a fleeting collection of images that once seemed harmonious, images  on which the intelligence tried in panic to introduce reason, order,  coherence.
Words become  inadequate as we get closer to the frontiers of the inexpressible, we  try to say love and the word will not come out, we try to say I want  and we say I cannot, we try to utter the final word only to realize  that we have gone back to the beginning.
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