Shapnil Joy

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

“ছোট্ট সুপ্রভা। তোমার প্রসঙ্গ অপেক্ষা উপন্যাসে আর আসবে না। কারণ তোমার জন্য কেউ অপেক্ষা করে থাকবে না। মৃত মানুষের জন্য আমরা অপেক্ষা করি না। আমাদের সমস্ত অপেক্ষা জীবিতদের জন্য। এই চরম সত্যটি না জেনেই তুমি হারিয়ে গেলে।”
― হুমায়ূন আহমেদ (Humayun Ahmed)

“It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“mothers are humans. who sometimes give birth to their pain. instead of children. –”
― Nayyirah Waheed, salt.