I always love the book that I'm not reading. I often end up loving summer during winter. I fancy Bach's playfulness when I am in the company of Beethoven. It is not the archetypal yearning for the distant. It is just extending the present to the possible...
I call them rumblings as they grossly lack the structure and merits of a perfect read - yet clasp close as they reflect my inconstancy and joie de vivre - unyielding to any persuasion known to man (please accept 'lies' as incidental or embellished truths - as I strongly deny the existence of 'Lie' - it's always 'Truth' or otherwise...besides 'Truth' in its purity lacks imagination)...Happy Reading!
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
GOPESWAR PAUL…Bengal’s Donatello
It wasn’t perchance that the front of G. Paul’s studio appeared on the expansive cover of Raghu Rai’s INDIA – Reflections in Black & W...
-
The vision of 'the woman' varies irreconcilably across men (being a masculine thought I suppose and I don't mind being wrong)....
-
every journey outside my zone of comfort serves two-way, stretches the boundary of comfort and makes me reevaluate the elements causing th...
-
Death is theraputic.It seems through 'Death' Rajesh Khanna could reclaim the fabled stature he lost long back - something that ma...