Aastha

“But those two circles, above all the point at which they touched, are the very thing I am mourning for, homesick for, famished for. You tell me 'she goes on.' But my heart and body are crying out, come back, come back. Be a circle, touching my circle on the plane of Nature. But I know this is impossible. I know that the thing I want is exactly the thing I can never get.”
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

“...in autobiography, as in all literature, what actually happened is less important than what the author can manage to persuade his audience to believe”
― Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children

“I am like that poet, Veeran, who still prefers the power to gift away cities in his raggedness than to make a gift of himself to cities though they dress him in gold.

Lucknow is dear to me, though now an altered city. Partition has emptied my chamber of poets but I stay on in an unaltered space.”
― Neelum Saran Gour, Winter Companions and Other Stories

“But there are times when lie copies art. And middle class life copies middle-brow art. And what subsequently occurred may effectively dispel the unfounded belief that middle-class colony is no place for the high jinks of the screen, that dramtic longings have no place in the stout hearts of staid men.”
― Neelum Saran Gour, Winter Companions and Other Stories