It feels weird to say so, but I sniff death around the corner. The cool thing about writing such lines is that if the writer indeed dies, the readers shall be forced to wonder about the strong premonitory abilities of the writer; while if nothing of the sort sensed happens, the readers wouldn’t remember about what was written anyway.
I had purchased a book named Snow in February this year. I finished reading it only today. And now I want to go to Turkey. To Kars specifically. And live their for some time. Till I get bored. As always. Until then, I will probably read about Turkey some more. Until then, you might like to read some of the quotes from the book – though I must admit that without the context in which they have been used, they might not depict their real meaning.
‘There are two kinds of men,’ said Ka didactically. ‘The first kind does not fall in love until he’s seen how the girl eats a sandwich, how she combs her hair, what sort of nonsense she cares about, why she’s angry with her father, and what stories people tell about her. The second type of man – and I am in this category – can fall in love with a woman only if he knows next to nothing about her.’
It might not happen in the first instant, but within ten minutes of meeting a man, a woman has clear idea of who he is, or at least he might be, and her heart has already told her whether she’s going to fall in love with him. But her head needs time to decide what her heart has decided.
Ka new very well that life was a meaningless string of random incidents.
…there are women who can’t resist a man who believes in nothing but love.
But there’s not a coward in the world who doesn’t dream of the day when he might find himself capable of great courage…
…people who seek only happiness never find it.
‘A woman doesn’t commit suicide because she’s lost her pride; she does it to show her pride.’
‘Women kill themselves because they hope to gain something,’ said Kadife. ‘Men kill themselves because they have lost all hope of gaining anything.’