Abhijit Sengupta

“If anyone could transform laughter to light, she did, Inga. Radiance upon radiance of laughter, chime upon bell chime of light sparkled and shone everywhere. It was as if the sky showered tiny star grains that scattered, glinting, on the hay heap we were cocooned in; they sparkled on the leaves of the jackfruit tree above and dusted my arms with gold. Who could resist such a dance of light...? I couldn’t, I never could. Almost never.”
― Poile Sengupta, Inga

“In the involved and complicated business of politics, it is difficult to say who the puppeteer is and who the puppet, particularly when one is often both....”
― Poile Sengupta, Women Centre Stage

“How does one wait for death? What does one do while waiting? Carry on the same daily tasks? Bathe, cook, eat? Bring the washing in when rain threatens? Read a book? Hold up a mirror to one’s face? Write a letter, a diary entry? Death provides no calendar, no timetable, no clock to consult. No doctor, no acclaimed astrologer can say when it might come calling. Whatever mankind may do to bring about method, order, regulation, and use the astounding logic of mathematics, death will not obey. Death is most ungovernable, unmethodical, unruly, unreasonable. Death mocks.
It jeers.”
― Poile Sengupta, Inga

“Nor will I ever find that walled garden where the hibiscus blows, with sweet musk roses and eglantine. Where stamens of rain fall on warm, white breasts.”
― Poile Sengupta, Inga