There will be always a beginning of every journey. That beginning also has a beginning. Let me not drag the beginning and begin it. My affair started with him one day in the library. His thoughts impressed me so much that I immersed myself into his world. Drunk on the wine of wisdom, first we spoke in English then in Bengali. He died years before my Grandpa was born; but friendship does not depend on age, but on mutual understanding.
The train left at midnight, darkness ruled outside the window and I drifted in deep slumber without doing anything that’s worth mentioning. It was not raining outside when I opened my eyes, even when I brushed and had my morning tea. In fact it did not rain at all. There was no icy mountain or snow covered lake outside. Don’t you know, it never snows inIndia except in Kashmir . All this information has nothing to do with the great writer I wish to discuss with you today.
Basically he was a writer, who wrote many things. A writer will write, we all know that; and a painter will paint. He had a beard - long and flowing, so do many people. All I am trying to say is that you must listen to me carefully. This train will take me to Kerala, the southernmost state ofIndia
Why is the tea seller shouting so much?
The train left at midnight, darkness ruled outside the window and I drifted in deep slumber without doing anything that’s worth mentioning. It was not raining outside when I opened my eyes, even when I brushed and had my morning tea. In fact it did not rain at all. There was no icy mountain or snow covered lake outside. Don’t you know, it never snows in
Basically he was a writer, who wrote many things. A writer will write, we all know that; and a painter will paint. He had a beard - long and flowing, so do many people. All I am trying to say is that you must listen to me carefully. This train will take me to Kerala, the southernmost state of
Why is the tea seller shouting so much?
Tagore was a big poet. He wrote many poems. No I have not read them much. Heard they gave him Nobel Prize for his poems.
This station is so dull. Poor people, sparsely clothed, jamming it. India is a poor country, let me add an adverb - India
He talks about many things, about widows, mostly widows nothing but widows. Now we do not have SO many widows! I think marrying a widow is something every man must try to do. Yes sir, please have a seat. I am reading Ghare Baire [Home and the World]. There are three main characters in this novel. Husband, Wife and a Politician.
Traveling in train is something I prefer a lot; it gives me opportunity to speak my mind without much thinking. Tagore is a master of love stories, I hate love stories. He crafts a scenario and uses a sharp knife to cut the heart of the reader. Be it Benodini’s love in Chokher Bali or the extra martial love in Ghare Baire, he has words to describe the guilt ridden, sorrow laced, poisonous feelings to the extent of exhilaration and addiction.
Throw your Twilight series in the dustbin, what does Stephanie Meyer know about love? The "boy meet girl" story is so dumb. Murder Chetan Bhagat, forget Paulo Coelho. You stay in
English is such an uncivilized, uncultured language, real people of literature do not write English. Last month I was Shantiniketan, a heaven created by Tagore to experiment his ideas. Catch a bus take left and go straight. Let me draw a map for you. Pencil please.
No comments:
Post a Comment