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3d9e9ab
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Indians are the Italians of Asia and vice versa. Every man in both countries is a singer when he is happy, and every woman is a dancer when she walks to the shop at the corner. For them, food is the music inside the body and music is the food inside the heart. Amore or Pyar makes every man a poet, a princess of peasant girl if only for second eyes of man and woman meets.
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shantaram
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Gregory David Roberts |
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8de724f
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Every virtuous act has some Dark secret in its heart; every risk we take contains a mystery that can't be solved.
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shantaram
mysterious
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Gregory David Roberts |
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72d68bf
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Mumbai is the sweet, sweaty smell of hope, which is the opposite of hate; and it's the sour, stifled smell of greed, which is the opposite of love. It's the smell of Gods, demons, empires, and civilizations in resurrection and decay. Its the blue skin-smell of the sea, no matter where you are in the island city, and the blood metal smell of machines. It smells of the stir and sleep and the waste of sixty million animals, more than half of them humans and rats. It smells of heartbreak, and the struggle to live, and of the crucial failures and love that produces courage. It smells of ten thousand restaurants, five thousand temples, shrines, churches and mosques, and of hunderd bazaar devoted exclusively to perfume, spices, incense, and freshly cut flowers. That smell, above all things - is that what welcomes me and tells me that I have come home. Then there were people. Assamese, Jats, and Punjabis; people from Rajasthan, Bengal, and Tamil Nadu; from Pushkar, Cochin, and Konark; warrior caste, Brahmin, and untouchable; Hindi, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Jain, Parsee, Animist; fair skin and dark, green eyes and golden brown and black; every different face and form of that extravagant variety, that incoparable beauty, India.
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sleep
hate
human
hope
love
smell-sea
mumbai
shantaram
colour
empire
sweat
sweet
beautiful
city
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Gregory David Roberts |
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6bb3ea1
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The Source of all things, the luminescence, has more forms than heaven's stars, sure. And one good thought is all it takes to make it shine. But a single mistake can burn down a forest in your heart, hiding all the stars, in all the skies. And while a mistake's still burning, ruined love or lost faith can make you think you're done, and you can't go on. But it's not true. It's never true. No matter what you do, no matter where you're lost, the luminescence never leaves you. Any good thing that dies inside can rise again, if you want it hard enough. The heart doesn't know how to quit, because it doesn't know how to lie. You lift your eyes from the page, fall into the smile of a perfect stranger, and the searching starts all over again. It's not what it was. It's always different. It's always something else. But the new forest that grows back in a scarred heart is sometimes wilder and stronger than it was before the fire. And if you stay there, in that shine within yourself, that new place for the light, forgiving everything and never giving up, sooner or later you'll always find yourself right back there where love and beauty made the world: at the beginning. The beginning. The beginning.
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stars
life
love
luminescence
mumbai
shantaram
night
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Gregory David Roberts |
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5b81232
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Heaped up on the blankets, our bodies bound by weariness and her deep slumber, surrounded by sickness and hope, death and defiance, I touched the soft surrendered curl of Karla's sleeping fingers to my lips, and I pledged my heart to her forever.
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shantaram
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Gregory David Roberts |
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034836d
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Ia liubliu tebia s toi samoi sekundy, kogda vpervye uvidel tebia. Mne kazhetsia, ia vsegda liubil tebia - stol'ko, skol'ko sushchestvuet na svete liubov'. Ia liubliu tvoi golos. Ia liubliu tvoe litso. Ia liubliu tvoi ruki. Ia liubliu vse, chto ty delaesh', i to, kak ty eto delaesh'. Kogda ty prikasaesh'sia ko mne, mne kazhetsia, chto eto volshebnaia palochka. Ia liubliu sledit' za tem, kak ty dumaesh', i slushat' to, chto ty govorish'. Ia chuvstvuiu vse eto, no ne ponimaiu i ne mogu ob'iasnit' - ni tebe, ni sebe. Ia prosto liubliu tebia, liubliu vsem serdtsem. Ty vypolniaesh' missiiu Boga: pridaesh' smysl moei zhizni. I potomu mne est' za chto liubit' etot mir.
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people
love
shantaram
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Gregory David Roberts |