G C Lichtenberg: “It is as if our languages were confounded: when we want a thought, they bring us a word; when we ask for a word, they give us a dash; and when we expect a dash, there comes a piece of bawdy.”

W H Auden: "But in my arms till break of day / Let the living creature lie. / Mortal, guilty, but to me/ The entirely beautiful."

Will Self: “To attempt to write seriously is always, I feel, to fail – the disjunction between my beautifully sonorous, accurate and painfully affecting mental content, and the leaden, halting sentences on the page always seems a dreadful falling short. It is this failure – a ceaseless threnody keening through the writing mind – that dominates my working life, just as an overweening sense of not having loved with enough depth or recklessness or tenderness dominates my personal one.”

John Gray: "Unlike Schopenhauer, who lamented the human lot, Leopardi believed that the best response to life is laughter. What fascinated Schopenhauer, along with many later writers, was Leopardi’s insistence that illusion is necessary to human happiness."

Art Spiegelman: "You know words in a way are hitting you on the left side of your brain, music and visual arts hit on the right side of the brain, so the idea is to pummel you, to send you from left brain to right brain and back until you're as unbalanced as I am."

विलास सारंग: "संदर्भ कुठलेही असोत, संस्कृत, इंग्रजी, बुद्धिवादी, तांत्रिक, इतिहासाचे, खगोलशास्त्राचे, आधुनिक पदार्थविज्ञानाचे, शिवकालीन व पेशवाईतील बखरीचे, अगणित ज्ञानक्षेत्रांचे, अशा वैविध्यपूर्ण ज्ञानावर लेखन- विशेषत: कवितालेखन- उभं राहत."

Monday, October 27, 2008

Still You and I together Shall Pole-vault that Pimp-like Fate

This year I have received a Diwali greeting card from Madhukar Dharmapurikar मधुकर धर्मापुरीकर that speaks volumes about his sensitive eye and his panache. (Earlier on this blog, I have written about his son's wedding card. Read it here.)

See the picture below.

Dharmapurikar calls the boy in the picture ‘Balkrishna बाळकृष्ण'. It reminded me of Shree Ma Mate श्री. म. माटे calling his child protagonist- who is an orphan- ‘Banseedhar बन्सीधर’. (A title of one of his stories reads "बन्सीधरा, आता तू कोठे रे जाशील?" “Banseedhara, Where will you go now?”)

But there is no trace of sentimentality of Mate-mastar’s question in the posture of Balkrishna. He is not wasting anytime in crying or playing. He is busy navigating his own destiny.

He perhaps is telling his mother:

"तू आणि मी मिळून अजूनही त्या भडव्या नशिबाला टांग मारू" (जी ए कुलकर्णी ’पिंगळावेळ’ कैरी १९७७ G A Kulkarni Pingalavel Kairee 1977)

Or is it even one better the way Balkrishna has anchored himself?

"तू आणि मी मिळून अजूनही त्या भडव्या नशिबाला पोलवाँल्ट करू."



Floods in my beloved Assam