Rohit Vyas

“First: breakdown, impossible to sleep, impossible to stay awake, impossible to endure life, or, more exactly, the course of life. The clocks are not in unison; the inner one runs crazily on at a devilish or demoniac or in any case inhuman pace, the outer one limps along at its usual speed. What else can happen but that the two worlds split apart, and they do split apart, or at least clash in a fearful manner. There are doubtless several reasons for the wild tempo of the inner process; the most obvious one is introspection, which will suffer no idea to sink tranquilly to rest but must pursue each one into consciousness, only itself to become an idea, in turn to be pursued by renewed introspection.

Secondly: this pursuit, originating in the midst of men, carries one in a direction away from them. The solitude that for the most part has been forced on me, in part voluntarily sought by me –but what was this if not compulsion too? –is now losing all its ambiguity and approaches its dénouement. Where is it leading? The strongest likelihood is, that it may lead to madness; there is nothing more to say, the pursuit goes right through me and rends me asunder. Or I can –can I? –manage to keep my feet somewhat and be carried along in the wild pursuit. Where, then, shall I be brought? ‘Pursuit,’ indeed, is only a metaphor. I can also say, ‘assault on the last earthly frontier’, an assault, moreover, launched from below, from mankind, and since this too is a metaphor, I can replace it by the metaphor of an assault from above, aimed at me from above.”
― Franz Kafka, Diaries, 1910-1923

“दोनों की मुलाक़ात छत्तरपुर के मन्दिर में हुई। मगर अच्छा लगता था उन्हें जामा मस्जिद में बैठना। इतिहास से साझा होने के बहाने वर्तमान का यह एकान्त। ‘करीम’ से खाकर दोनों मस्जिद की मीनार पर ज़रूर चढ़ते। भीतर के सँकरे रास्ते से होते हुए ऊँचाई से दिल्ली देखने का डर और हाथों को पकड़ लेने का भरोसा। स्पर्श की यही ऊर्जा दोनों को शहरी बना रही थी। चलते-चलते टकराने की जगह भी तो बहुत नहीं दिल्ली में!”
― Ravish Kumar, Ishq mein shahar hona

“My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you.”
― John Keats, Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne

“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.”
― Rumi