Story of my assassins - upto page 84
Sara said, " Wystan's telling us that fascism is creeping up all around us, and we don't even know ! He's telling us that, we suffer from the Illusion of Normalcy. He's telling us that the worst horrors take place around us while we go happily about our everyday lives. Just because the newspapers keep coming, the televisions keep humming, the planes keep taking off, the trains keep running - just because our daily crap goes on deosn't mean all is well. My dear phallo-foolish friend, Icarus has plnged into the ocean and is drowing while we are chattering away merrily on the sailing ship ?
( page 24)
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( Mr.Lincoln Meets Frock Raja)
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At each stage Jai had addresses the staff as if he were Abraham Lincoln delivering the Gettysburg Address, assuring them that immortality and the turnaround would bothe be theirs, in fact, were just days away. All, each of us had to do , was to resolutely stand by our posts and keep firing. At what, he didn't say. The fucker was so eloquent, with his burning eyes and waving arms, that even I fell for his talk ! Each time, when the trance broke, I thought : ' through millennia, men like him have led thousands to their untimely graves !
(page 52)
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Guruji said, the covenant of spiritual power was unchanging, and clear : he could protect others but not himself ; he could always enrich others but not himself ; he cold heal others but not himself . He alone could take care of the multitudes ; but the multitudes, collectively, needed to take care of him.
It was the answer I would have given to the cynicisms of Sarah and Jai , if I could be bothered about them. The vanities - and limitations - of reason.
( Page 59 )
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Guruji : ' the wise traveller uses any horse to rach his destination. He doesn't agonize about who owns the animal. He only thinks about the pleasure of riding it, about getting it to take him where he wishes to go.
(page 69)
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I didn't want to enter an argument with her - about
you didn't call !
why didn't you call ?
where are you ?
With who, are you ?
do you feel ?
what do you feel ?
you don't care !
Why can't you come ?
why can't we go ?
why can't you say something ?
What are you saying ?
you only want ' that' ?
you don't want anything ?
whre is this thing going ?
this si going nowhere !
I thought you were strong !
I know you are strong .
You are making me weak.
I am not weak.
you dont' want to change.
You have changed !
you make me sick !
you are sick !
you don't really love me.
I really love you.
How can anyone love you ?
actually you hate me !
actrualy you hate yoruself.
Actually, I hate you !
I had discovered, over time, that the workable cycle of an affair was about 16 weeks. 2 weeks of wooing ; 4 weeks of passion ; and 10 slow and painful weeks of disengagement. By the time it ended there was POISON everywhere, with every fine feeling in tatters.
When the last lingering tendon was finally snipped, with one of us, saying something so barbaric, that could easily have gone unsaid, there was a euphoria not dissimilar to that of weeks of passion.
Some times the process was less corrosive, whe she too understood , like cops and doctors do , that the world is what it is, ephermeral, luneven, to be squarely dealt with, and not to be conjured out of weak romantic novels.
But FEW seems to possess the gift of leaving the room while the laughter was still in the air and the spirits high. For the most, everyone seemed to be committed to creating a heap of debris before walking away from it !
( page 84)
( page 24)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
( Mr.Lincoln Meets Frock Raja)
---------------------------------------------
At each stage Jai had addresses the staff as if he were Abraham Lincoln delivering the Gettysburg Address, assuring them that immortality and the turnaround would bothe be theirs, in fact, were just days away. All, each of us had to do , was to resolutely stand by our posts and keep firing. At what, he didn't say. The fucker was so eloquent, with his burning eyes and waving arms, that even I fell for his talk ! Each time, when the trance broke, I thought : ' through millennia, men like him have led thousands to their untimely graves !
(page 52)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Guruji said, the covenant of spiritual power was unchanging, and clear : he could protect others but not himself ; he could always enrich others but not himself ; he cold heal others but not himself . He alone could take care of the multitudes ; but the multitudes, collectively, needed to take care of him.
It was the answer I would have given to the cynicisms of Sarah and Jai , if I could be bothered about them. The vanities - and limitations - of reason.
( Page 59 )
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Guruji : ' the wise traveller uses any horse to rach his destination. He doesn't agonize about who owns the animal. He only thinks about the pleasure of riding it, about getting it to take him where he wishes to go.
(page 69)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I didn't want to enter an argument with her - about
you didn't call !
why didn't you call ?
where are you ?
With who, are you ?
do you feel ?
what do you feel ?
you don't care !
Why can't you come ?
why can't we go ?
why can't you say something ?
What are you saying ?
you only want ' that' ?
you don't want anything ?
whre is this thing going ?
this si going nowhere !
I thought you were strong !
I know you are strong .
You are making me weak.
I am not weak.
you dont' want to change.
You have changed !
you make me sick !
you are sick !
you don't really love me.
I really love you.
How can anyone love you ?
actually you hate me !
actrualy you hate yoruself.
Actually, I hate you !
I had discovered, over time, that the workable cycle of an affair was about 16 weeks. 2 weeks of wooing ; 4 weeks of passion ; and 10 slow and painful weeks of disengagement. By the time it ended there was POISON everywhere, with every fine feeling in tatters.
When the last lingering tendon was finally snipped, with one of us, saying something so barbaric, that could easily have gone unsaid, there was a euphoria not dissimilar to that of weeks of passion.
Some times the process was less corrosive, whe she too understood , like cops and doctors do , that the world is what it is, ephermeral, luneven, to be squarely dealt with, and not to be conjured out of weak romantic novels.
But FEW seems to possess the gift of leaving the room while the laughter was still in the air and the spirits high. For the most, everyone seemed to be committed to creating a heap of debris before walking away from it !
( page 84)
posted by Borrowed Wisdom | 4:35 AM
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