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Jayant’s 2024 Year in Books
Take a look at Jayant’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
Jayant Kashyap’s Followers (12)
175 books
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49 friends
640 books
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670 friends
659 books
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551 friends
348 books
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11 friends
322 books
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42 friends
272 books
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1,076 friends
241 books
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8 friends
2,210 books
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192 friends
More friends…
Jayant Kashyap
Goodreads Author
Born
in Purnea, India
April 17
Website
Twitter
Genre
Influences
Member Since
June 2016
URL
https://www.goodreads.com/jaydkash
To ask
Jayant Kashyap
questions,
please sign up.
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Unaccomplished Cities
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published
2020
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Notes on Burials
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published
2025
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2 editions
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Water
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published
2021
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Survival
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published
2019
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
Jayant’s Recent Updates
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Jayant Kashyap
rated a book it was ok
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Jayant Kashyap
is on page 108 of 120 of I Speak for the Devil
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Jayant Kashyap
is currently reading
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"If you read one book of poetry this year, make it this one. Soul-searching, deeply emotional, and stunningly creative thematically, this collection will leave its mark."
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"These poems enter the most tender, quiet places of the heart. To give word to those who have passed and to the smallest, yet most beautiful, moments of life means to keep safe all that we love: nature, memories, relationships..."
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Jayant Kashyap
rated a book liked it
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| Like a good poet, he frequents the less frequented bookshops—and even writes about it! These are good poems even, or musings, only these might not, I’m afraid, shed a new light on the events the book discusses. | |
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Jayant Kashyap
started reading
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Jayant Kashyap
is currently reading
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Jayant Kashyap
rated a book it was amazing
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For me it is that one book which is way beyond commentary. A book I’ve read (n+1) times now and it doesn’t make me stop. It’s a pain of course, the fact that what happened in the 90s, and the book stands with all its strength every step of the way. Fi ...more |
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Jayant Kashyap
is currently reading
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“Suffering is the greatest treasure on earth; it purifies the soul. In suffering, we learn who our true friend is.”
― Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska: Divine Mercy in My Soul
― Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska: Divine Mercy in My Soul
“I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as the starfish loves a coral reef and as kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them. I will love you as the pesto loves the fettuccini and ats the horseradish loves the miyagi, and the pepperoni loves the pizza. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you as the doctor loves his sickest patient and a lake loves its thirstiest swimmer. I will love you as the beard loves the chin, and the crumbs love the beard, and the damp napkin loves the crumbs, and the precious document loves the dampness of the napkin, and the squinting eye of the reader loves the smudged document, and the tears of sadness love the squinting eye as it misreads what is written.
I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp... I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and all the secrets have gone gasping into the world. I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled. I will love you until every fire is extinguished and rebuilt from the handsomest and most susceptible of woods. I will love you until the bird hates a nest and the worm hates an apple. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close... I will love you until your face is fogged by distant memory. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, I will love you if you don't marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else--and i will love you if you never marry at all, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all. That is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.”
― The Beatrice Letters
I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp... I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and all the secrets have gone gasping into the world. I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled. I will love you until every fire is extinguished and rebuilt from the handsomest and most susceptible of woods. I will love you until the bird hates a nest and the worm hates an apple. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close... I will love you until your face is fogged by distant memory. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, I will love you if you don't marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else--and i will love you if you never marry at all, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all. That is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.”
― The Beatrice Letters
“We make Idols of our concepts, but Wisdom is born of wonder”
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“Eternity buries itself in smaller things.
How desperately I have wished for memories to be eternal, but eternity exists only insofar as it buries itself in smaller things. The photograph will exist longer than I can ever remember its being taken. Even the candle which burns exists longer than my recollection of the candle or its burning—it exists but is transmogrified.
In this way, in smaller things, it is buried. In this way, maybe, I am buried too.
— Jacqueline Winter Thomas (March 23, 1991 – April 18, 2019), “4.7.19,” heteroglossia”
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How desperately I have wished for memories to be eternal, but eternity exists only insofar as it buries itself in smaller things. The photograph will exist longer than I can ever remember its being taken. Even the candle which burns exists longer than my recollection of the candle or its burning—it exists but is transmogrified.
In this way, in smaller things, it is buried. In this way, maybe, I am buried too.
— Jacqueline Winter Thomas (March 23, 1991 – April 18, 2019), “4.7.19,” heteroglossia”
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“What i like about photographs is that they capture a moment that’s gone forever, impossible to reproduce.”
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