tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42288835831350069302024-02-21T00:10:57.849+05:30"Quote - Unquote"Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4228883583135006930.post-87845601829001671502010-09-12T00:27:00.002+05:302010-09-12T00:30:03.165+05:30DenialLike the cover of clouds, it is the scrap that the all powerful being allows us: the power of denial. When it comes to self deception, the human mind is capable of the infinite.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic;">From "Lessons in Forgetting" by Anita Nair</span><br /></div>Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4228883583135006930.post-40554663321108353382009-04-01T21:56:00.003+05:302009-04-01T22:11:14.954+05:30Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaye to Kya HaiOhh Ri Duniya, Oh Ri Duniya<div>Karwat Lee Soyee Haqeeqat ki Duniya</div><div>Mamta ki Bikhri Kahani ki Duniya</div><div>Behno ki Siski Jawani ki Duniya</div><div>Aadam ke Hawwaa se Rishte ki Duniya</div><div>Shayar ke Feekey Lafzo ki Duniya</div><div>Ghalib ke Maumin ke Khwaabon ki Duniya</div><div>Jaisi Bachi hai Waisee ki Waisee, Bacha Lo Ye Duniya</div><div>Apna Samajh ke Apno ke Jaise, Utha Lo ye Duniya</div><div>Chhutput Si Baaton Mein Jalne Lagegi, Sambhalo ye Duniya</div><div>Katpit ke Raaton Mein Palne Lagegi, Sambhalo ye Duniya</div><div>Tumhari Hai Tum Hi Sambhalo ye Duniya</div><div>Tumhare ye Kaale Iraado ki Duniya</div><div>Ohh Ri Duniya, Ohh Ri Duniya</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaye to Kya Hai??</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- From the Movie Gulaal. Lyrics by Piyush Mishra</span></span></div>Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4228883583135006930.post-87940476675549616882009-02-25T20:08:00.004+05:302009-02-25T20:16:10.500+05:30Of Legs and Walking<div style="text-align: justify;">Legs, until relatively recently, were the main mode of land transport... Even bicycle is leg dependent, a mere variation on a theme. These days, however, legs are things used only by fitness freaks, the eccentric and the poor as a means of substantive locomotion.<br /></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">- Sam Miller, in Delhi - Adventures in a Megacity</span></div></div>Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4228883583135006930.post-84401804136054840012009-02-01T18:00:00.004+05:302009-02-25T20:16:47.196+05:30The Judge"Mera kaatil hi mera munsif hai,<div>Kya voh mere haq mein faisla dega"</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">- Sudarshan Faakir, in "Aadmi Aadmi ko kya dega", a Ghazal</span></div>Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4228883583135006930.post-70705021318245897282008-12-28T19:12:00.005+05:302008-12-28T19:32:02.654+05:30Of then & now<div style="text-align: justify;">If an ancient Indian of the time of the Upanishads, of the Buddha, or the later classical age were to be set down in modern India, he would see his race clinging to forms and shells and rags of the past and missing nine-tenths of its nobler meaning. He would be amazed by the extent of the mental poverty, the immobility, the static repetition, the cessation of science, the long sterility of art, the comparative feebleness of the creative intuition. <br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">- Aurobindo Ghose</span></div>Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4228883583135006930.post-39428716997661087272008-12-13T14:03:00.000+05:302008-12-13T14:13:13.248+05:30Zindagi Kis Talaash Mein HaiKuch saate, kuch parchhaiyyan, kuch chahat ke sajde,<div>Kuch behtey baadlo pe rakhi ummeedein, barasti rahi, tarasti rahi,</div><div>Chaand aasman pe jade suraakh ki tarah jhaankta raha,</div><div>Aur raat kisi andhe kuen ki tarah mooh khole haanfti rahi;</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Raaste paaon tale nikalte rahe, na ruke, na thame,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Na Roka, na poocha, Zindagi kis talaash mein hai.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Zindagi thakne lagi hai, </div><div>Aur ye, zindagi ka judwa,</div><div>Uski unglee pakde, sheher ki nangi sadko par,</div><div>Abhi tak kuch been raha hai, kuch dhoond raha hai</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">- Gulzar</span></div>Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4228883583135006930.post-35178546410361928172008-12-04T21:23:00.000+05:302008-12-04T21:43:54.944+05:30Death<div align="justify">Said Vilas, the man who wrote letters for three rupees per page - "Nothing is more cruel than a letter cut short for money. It is like death - one moment the words flowing, next moment silence, the thought unfinished, the love unconveyed, the anguish unexpressed."</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="right"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div align="right"><em>- From Family Matters, a fiction novel by Rohinton Mistry</em></div>Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4228883583135006930.post-37952518607934288692008-11-29T18:25:00.000+05:302008-11-29T18:29:14.108+05:30Learning to FlyA soul in tension that is learning to fly,<div>Condition grounded, but determined to try.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">- From "Learning to Fly" by Pink Floyd</span></span></div>Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4228883583135006930.post-68387789233170477852008-11-29T18:18:00.000+05:302008-11-29T18:28:58.429+05:30Smile of Enlightenment<div style="text-align: justify;">He made up for the imperfections of his hands with the perfection of his smile. A Smile of Enlightenment. <br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And how did one acquire such enlightenment, he wondered, here in a grim ward, collecting faeces and urine from the beds of the lame and the halt and the diseased? Or were these necessary conditions? For learning that young or old, rich or old, we all stank at the other end.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- From Family Matters, a fiction novel by Rohinton Mistry</span></span></div>Kushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18318800437572481444noreply@blogger.com0