A writer lives, at least, in a state of astonishment. Beneath any feeling he has of the good or evil of the world lies a deeper one of wonder at it all. To transmit that feeling, he writes. — William Sansom
Does the storyteller lie when he tells a story? Of course he does. But, does he really? Most stories are lies in that they never happened. Are we, then a self-delusional race?
Lakshman had a bad feeling about this. He looked grimly at Vibhishan. If he were ever to be vocal about the way things were being done, he told himself, now was the time.
“So we throw rocks into the sea?” he asked in as measured a tone as he could manage.
“Yes my dear brother,” said Rama. He could see Sita already. “The mighty sea god Varun has assured me they will float.”
Float indeed, thought Lakshman. He could imagine his brother, himself, and bits and pieces of the vaanar sena crying out for help to each other as they floated away in different directions in the sea, all sitting on separate rocks.
…if I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country. — E M Forster
I am not proud of being an Indian. I did nothing to merit Indian-ness. I didn’t choose to be born in India. I do feel very fortunate to belong to this great melting pot of cultures and influences, but that’s just about all. Nationality — mine, yours or anyone else’s — is a matter of chance and it would speak poorly of me if I were proud of a coincidence.
Having slept for most of the day in proper asur fashion, Akasur and Chamund greeted the beautiful Lanka evening with great spirit.
They sat perched on a high wall, not looking down and in possession of two large wooden mugs full of soma stolen from the ruins of the classiest tavern in upper Lanka.
They talked of many things in their lives, recounting tales humourous and otherwise, laughing generously at each others jokes. They remained largely truthful until the soma started getting the better of them. Both fell from their perch and landed with a thud on the street side. In front of them, shops did brisk business and nobody paid them much attention.