Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
TRISTAN: Than what?
ISOLDE: Something more than duty and death! Why are we capable of feelings if not to have them? Why long for things if they are not meant to be ours? Well don’t listen to me. You’re so sure of things. Your certainty, it’s like armour. I wish I had that.
*MARKE: Isolde. I was trying to explain to Tristan the importance of loving. It seems he might live without it.
TRISTAN: There are other things to live for. Duty. Honour.
ISOLDE: But they are not life Tristan. They are the shells of life. And empty ones and in the end all they hold is days and days without love. Love is made by God. Ignore it and you can suffer as you cannot imagine.
TRISTAN: Then I will no longer live without it.
Tristan and Isolde
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Heinrich Böll, The Lost Honour of Katherina Blum
Monday, January 28, 2008
How long have I
Been in this storm
So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form
Water's getting harder to tread
With these waves crashing over my head
If I could just see you
Everything will be alright
If I'd see you
The storminess will turn to light
And I will walk on water
And you will catch me if I fall
And I will get lost into your eyes
And everything will be alright
And everything will be alright
Lifehouse - Storm
Sunday, January 27, 2008
*"Because when we love, we always strive to become better than we are."
*"The cause why the majority of women are so little given to friendship is that it is insipid after having felt love."
It is a highly amusing and enjoyable article on the fight of two philosophers, Ted Honderich and Colin McGinn, on the issue of consciousness, but the motivations behind the feud, it seems, are more personal... Do read it:
However, there is one paragraph from it that i'd like to post here as an extract. It is unrelated to the feud, but presents an interesting philosophical idea:
It reminds me of Deleuze's inversion of identity and difference. I find his philosophy incredulous, but interesting:
[Excerpted from Wikipedia]
Saturday, January 26, 2008
My sentiments regarding this situation match with those of Russell, who writes in The Conquest of Happiness:
"When the newspaper chooses to make a scapegoat of some perhaps quite harmless person, the results may be very terrible. Fortunately, as yet this is a fate which most people escape through their obscurity, but as publicity gets more and more perfect in its methods, there will be an increasing danger in this novel form of social persecution. This is too grave a matter to be treated with disdain by the individual who is its victim, and whatever maybe thought of the great principle of the freedom of the Press, I think the line will have to drawn more sharply than it is by existing libel laws, and anything will have to be forbidden which makes life intolerable for innocent individuals, even if they should happen to have done or said things which, published maliciously, can cause them to become unpopular. The only ultimate cure for this evil is, however, an increase of toleration on the part of the public. The best way to increase toleration is to multiply the number of individuals who enjoy real happiness and do not therefore find their chief pleasure in infliction of pain upon their fellow-men."
* Mother Superior: "I fell in love when I was 17… with God. A foolish girl with romantic notions about the life of a religious, but my love was passionate. Over the years my feelings have changed. He’s disappointed me. Ignored me. We’ve settled into a life of peaceful indifference. The old husband and wife who sit side by side on the sofa, but rarely speak. He knows I’ll never leave Him. This is my duty. But when love and duty are one, then grace is within you."
The Painted Veil
Friday, January 25, 2008
A Very Spaghetti Life
By Saad Javed
The long, unwinding days,
Brimming with tangled ambitions
Spiced up with,
The flavour of sumptuous gossip
A sweet and sour aroma of
The cheesy texture of,
Attire and attitude
The toothsome topping of,
Shopping and back-biting
The delicious delights of,
Family and friendship
Oh, she's living,
A very tempting life,
A very spaghetti life!
A Very Existential Life
By M. Awais Aftab
Brimming with shattered ambitions
The opiates of idle reflection
A bright and dark aura of
The caustic touch of
Amnesia and amour
The tangible tragedies of
'Bad faith' and self-deception
The desolating desperations of
Failure and folly
Oh, he's living
A very tragic life
A very existential life!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Lex: If you really see Lana as that naive, you obviously don't think as much of her as I do.
Episode # 610
* Oliver: This is it, the moment, right? The moment that I'm gonna regret for the rest of my life, isn't it?
(When Oliver leaves Lois)
Episode # 611
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
[Translation of a poem by Parveen Shakir]
Translated on request of Madiha Nasir
I was silent at my thirst
And like the desert sand,
Thought of life
As a plot set aflame by caustic sunlight
If the desire to be irrigated
Ever arose in my body
I apologized to my heart
No matter how hot the fire flares inside
The right to gaze up at the rain is not mine
Boils may abound at my tongue
But the taste of the dew is not mine
I refuse any gift from the clouds
There is only one possibility of water in my life
And that is tears!
But ever since the moisture in someone’s voice
Has permeated the sand of my heart
The longing to be completely drenched has emerged
It is fire alone now which forms the solvent of my blood
And the body burns like a red-hot coal
But what luck I possess
That the river departs
After kissing my bank
I am thirst incarnate
And someone pulls back the filled cup
After bringing it up to my lips
[The original poem in urdu can be seen at:
Monday, January 21, 2008
On an impulse i decided to have this survey, and i asked about a dozen of my friends about which noise they found most irritating. Here are their answers:
Me: The sound of telephone ringing
Umair: The noise coming from mosques
Hammaad: Meri neighbour aunti 3 to 6 pm musalsal bolti hai and at full volume
Usama: Noise when people curse each other.
Mehreen: Loud rap sort of music
Abdullah: Someone singing out of tune [Spoken like a true musician!]
Saad: An old pressure cooker's vent weight. Chick chick chick. [Spoken like a true cook!]
Gaya: People arguing in loud voice or someone screaming
Kay: Raised voices during arguments
Nouman: The horns of the wagon which comes to pick my neighbour's children
Hamza: The sound of a rickshaw
A.H: Siren of the ambulance
Uzair: People munching food noisily
Ahmad: I kind of like noise; i despise silence
The readers are welcome to share their most irritating noise :)
See also: An old survey on 'The Most Important Thing in a Relationship'
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
A voice with a broad Scottish accent from the front of the crowd pierced the quiet . . .'Well, fuckin stop doin it then, ya evil bastard!'
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
"Numbers speak clearly, Father Pluche. The rest is poetry."
"Quite. If only we were a little more..."
"Don't make things difficult, Father Pluche. The question is a simple one. Do you really believe that God exists?"
"Well, now exists strikes me as slightly excessive term, but i believe he is there, that's it, in a world of his own, he is there."
"And what difference does it make?"
"It makes a difference, all right, Bartleboom, and how. Take for example this story of the seventh room... yes, the story of that man at the inn who never leaves his room, and all that."
"No one has ever seen him. He eats, it would seem. But it could easily be a trick. He might not exist. Made up by Dira. But for us, in any case, he would be there. In the evenings the lights are lit in that room, every so often sounds are heard, you yourself, i have seen you slow down when you pass that room, you try to see, to hear something... For us that man is there."
[Thanks to Guinevere, who introduced me to the novel, written by Alessandro Barrico.]
Monday, January 14, 2008
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
'“Man is nothing else but what he purposes, he exists only in so far as he realises himself, he is therefore nothing else but the sum of his actions, nothing else but what his life is.” Hence we can well understand why some people are horrified by our teaching. For many have but one resource to sustain them in their misery, and that is to think, “Circumstances have been against me, I was worthy to be something much better than I have been. I admit I have never had a great love or a great friendship; but that is because I never met a man or a woman who were worthy of it; if I have not written any very good books, it is because I had not the leisure to do so; or, if I have had no children to whom I could devote myself it is because I did not find the man I could have lived with. So there remains within me a wide range of abilities, inclinations and potentialities, unused but perfectly viable, which endow me with a worthiness that could never be inferred from the mere history of my actions.” But in reality and for the existentialist, there is no love apart from the deeds of love; no potentiality of love other than that which is manifested in loving; there is no genius other than that which is expressed in works of art. The genius of Proust is the totality of the works of Proust; the genius of Racine is the series of his tragedies, outside of which there is nothing. Why should we attribute to Racine the capacity to write yet another tragedy when that is precisely what he did not write? In life, a man commits himself, draws his own portrait and there is nothing but that portrait."
Jean-Paul Sartre, excerpted from Existentialism is a Humanism
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Martha: Well, you have to keep a closer watch. You know, I think we go through these bad relationships for a reason.
Lois: Well, if there's a good reason for all the pain and aggravation, I'm dying to know.
Martha: Maybe you have to get through all the wrong men so you can recognize the right one.
Smallville, Episode # 520
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
And suddenly, the day seems so heavy, and the clocks seems to be ticking simultaneously too fast and too slow, and the gray sky becomes even more gray as winter spreads its wings... life becomes so viscous. Even the radio plays songs that i haven't heard in ages, but which eerily echo my sentiments; the voice of Elliott Yamin saying:
Baby I will wait for you
Cause I don't know what else i can do
Baby I will wait for you
If it's the last thing i do
I really need you in my life
No matter what i have to do I'll wait for you
When love gives a wound to one person, it also gives the healing power to the other... i just wish you'd see that.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Movie adaptations of mythologies and legends always fascinate me and i was greatly looking forward to watching the latest movie made on Beowulf. [Though, i must admit, i was also very curious about the role of Angelina Jolie!] And the movie didn't fall short of my expectations. The graphics and sound track was awesome. What i liked the most was the story, and the sort of hero Beowulf is. He is brave and courageous, but he is not without flaws, and his pride leads to his fall, but when given the chance, he rises again and like a true hero, faces the consequences of the mistakes he made and regains his integrity. This is what makes Beowulf a memorable hero for me. A myth and a hero are only meaningful as long as people can relate to them. And as cliched as it may sound, Beowulf touches the hero in every person. A recommended movie for all epic-lovers.
Here is a song from Beowulf's soundtrack along with some movie clips:
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
By Prof Khwaja Masud
[See the complete article at:
Monday, January 7, 2008
Umm, well, how would the others know if you don't want them to know, or if you continuously project of false image of yourself to the people? And many times, people do know a lot of things about you that you aren't even aware that they know. :)
Dr. Royer-Collard: Of course.
Renee Pelagie: Once, long ago in the folly of youth, he made me love him.
[Referring to Marquis de Sade, her husband.]
From the movie Quills, based on the life and works of Marquis de Sade.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
* The reality of the other person is not in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you.Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says but rather to what he does not say.
* My loneliness was born when men praised my talkative faults and blamed my silent virtues.
* When Life does not find a singer to sing her heart she produces a philosopher to speak her mind.
* When two women talk they say nothing; when one woman speaks she reveals all of life.
* If winter should say, "Spring is in my heart," who would believe winter?
* Now let us play hide and seek. Should you hide in my heart it would not be difficult to find you. But should you hide behind your own shell, then it would be useless for anyone to seek you. A woman may veil her face with a smile.
* If I were to choose between the power of writing a poem and the ecstasy of a poem unwritten, I would choose the ecstasy. It is better poetry.
* Many a woman borrows a man's heart; very few could possess it.
* Love that does not renew itself every day becomes a habit and in turn a slavery.
* In truth we talk only to ourselves, but sometimes we talk loud enough that others may hear us.
*I long for eternity because there I shall meet my unwritten poems and my unpainted pictures.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
Christine Quinn, All in a Day's Work, Reader's Digest, Oct 1998
* If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.
* The first time that I saw you I knew
That to you my heart would be true
We can't be together now
But I know we will somehow
Someway and someday, there's gonna be a way
And I'll wait forever for that day.
* If you really want her, tell her because she can wait but she cant wait forever.
* I'll wait forever for your love, but I have to admit, I'm dying to meet you.
* There you are standing right in front of me
All this fear falls away to leave me naked,
Hold me close cause I need you to guide me to safety,
No, I won't wait forever
No, I won't wait forever
No, I won't wait forever
Snow Patrol, Signal Fire
Thursday, January 3, 2008
By Awais Aftab
A translation of Parveen Shakir's poem 'Prism'
When sun enters
Into a drop of water
A collage of colours appears
The seven arches of rainbow
Spread out their arms
And draw into the tiny droplet
A whole cosmos of colours!
I, too, have a sun
That by a mere graze of body
Cultivates in me the rainbow flowers
A slight change in his angle
And I am rendered
A simple drop of water
[Published in Us Magazine in March 2007]