624 books
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2,760 voters
Roshan Singh
https://www.goodreads.com/flawedpoetry
“Somehow you don't question things until you come face to face with the person and suddenly- suddenly you realize that behind all them stories it have a flesh- and- blood, breathing, feeling person who capable of hurting, yes! Well, ask her, na. Ask her if she want to garden. I think about starting a plot for the old people to have something to do. Some people say that gardening good for old people. I am proof of that!”
― Cereus Blooms at Night
― Cereus Blooms at Night
“Claire says she used to think ordinary life was boring before I came out to her, but now she realizes that every ordinary moment has extraordinary worlds contained within it.”
― Being Emily
― Being Emily
“To separate the Adivasi from his land is to stop his breathing. If you want to see an Adivasi's extinction, take him away from his land- as it is happening at present. It is a strange irony that when the Adivasi could lead a life of self- reliance, he is being compelled to become disabled and parasitic. The Adivasi, after having been uprooted from his land through the establishment of big projects in the name of public interest and national development, is ending up in slums in the peripheries of modern cosmopolitan cities as an army of landless labourers and domestic servants losing altogether their self- reliance and self- esteem.”
― adi-dharam
― adi-dharam
“I remember being scared that something must, surely, go wrong, if we were this happy, her and me, in the early days, when our love was settling into the shape of our lives like cake mixture reaching the corners of the tin as it swells and bakes.”
― Grief Is the Thing with Feathers
― Grief Is the Thing with Feathers
“Mala faced her wall of faded cereus blooms. She was content. Oblivious to the dew that drizzled from the mudra, she rocked and dozed lightly. Scent, as though too shy for light, no longer trickled from the blossoms but Mala was not yet ready to leave the yard. Her eyes would flicker open and catch a glimpse of the day that was beginning to split the black sky apart. In that first orange light the flowers hung limp, battered and bruised, each one worn out from the frenzied carnival of moths. (140)”
― Cereus Blooms at Night
― Cereus Blooms at Night
Roshan’s 2025 Year in Books
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