“Art, music, poetry, and everything else that I do have this one purpose—increasing the intensity of my consciousness and life”
― Homi J Bhabha: A Renaissance Man among Scientists
― Homi J Bhabha: A Renaissance Man among Scientists
“Some poems take us places where no words reach, no thought, they take you up to the core itself, life stops for one moment and becomes beautiful, it becomes clear with regret and happiness. Some poems change the day, the night, your life. Some poems make you forget, forget the sadness, the hopelessness, you forget your waterproof, the frost comes to you, says, got you, and you're dead.”
― Himnaríki og helvíti
― Himnaríki og helvíti
“கவிதை ஒரு சொல் விளையாட்டோ வெறும் அழகியல் மாத்திரமோ அல்ல. அது தன்னுள் கொண்டிருக்கும் இலட்சியம் அபரிமிதமானது. கவிதைகளில் வெளிப்படுவது நமது ஆளுமைதான் என்று தெரிந்து கொண்டால் நாம் நமது ஆளுமை வளர்ச்சியில் நாட்டம் கொள்ள தொடங்கிவிடுவோம்.
ஆளுமை வளர்ச்சி என்பது இடையறாத மெய்மை அறிதலன்றி வேறொன்றும் இல்லை என்ற நிலைக்கு கொண்டு வந்துவிடும். எனக்கு புனைவுகள் அற்ற எளிமை மிக முக்கியமாகத் தோன்றும்.”
―
ஆளுமை வளர்ச்சி என்பது இடையறாத மெய்மை அறிதலன்றி வேறொன்றும் இல்லை என்ற நிலைக்கு கொண்டு வந்துவிடும். எனக்கு புனைவுகள் அற்ற எளிமை மிக முக்கியமாகத் தோன்றும்.”
―
“How can man know himself? He is a dark and veiled thing; and whereas the hare has seven skins, the human being can shed seven times 70 skins and still not be able to say: ‘This is really you, this is no longer an outer shell. Besides, it is an agonizing, dangerous undertaking to dig down into yourself in this way, to force your way by the shortest route down the shaft of your own being. How easy it is to do damage to yourself that no doctor can heal. And moreover, why should it be necessary, since everything – our friendships and hatreds, the way we look, our handshakes, the things we remember and forget, our books, our handwriting – bears witness to our being.”
― Untimely Meditations
― Untimely Meditations
“When we were younger, my mother had regularly read to us from a book of Japanese fables, having saved nothing from her own childhood. One story had been about a mountain, whose peak was surrounded by a ring of clouds, like a necklace, and who had been so beautiful that the greatest of all mountains had fallen in love with her. But the mountain with the clouds had not returned the other’s affections, and instead had pined after a smaller, flatter mountain below. The great mountain had been so shocked and enraged by this, it had erupted into a volcano, covering the skies with smoke and darkness and pain for many days. I remember for some reason feeling incredibly moved by this story, the love of the beautiful cloud mountain for the kinder, smaller one, the torment of the volcano, as if, at that age, their passions had seemed more real to me than any human ones.”
― Cold Enough for Snow
― Cold Enough for Snow
Surya’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Surya’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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