As I came back to town after Thanksgiving - I was shocked to know that uncle of one of my very close friends is dying in hospital. He was healthy, wealthy, walking, talking, and a kind of arrogant man who was full of pride till two days ago. When I saw him in ICU surrounded by machines and many drips, I shared my shock with one of my friends; he texted back following to me:
"Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." --Macbeth from "The Tragedy of Macbeth" (Act V, Scene V).
On a similar note - as people many times ask - what drives me to write human stories, here is the simple answer
"Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." --Macbeth from "The Tragedy of Macbeth" (Act V, Scene V).
On a similar note - as people many times ask - what drives me to write human stories, here is the simple answer
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6 comments:
kahaniyan tamam shab
tamam shab kahaniyan
Bujhe hue charagh ne udas raat se kahi
udaas raat ne likhin
tamam shab kahaniyan
uruj ki bisat par zaval ki kahaniyan
kahaniyan tamam shab
vo jism ya azaab hai
vo aankh ya kitab hai
vo honT ya gulab hai
kitab mein azaab ki
gulab ki kahaniyan
kahaniyan tamam shab
Poet: Mushaf Iqbal tausifi
The more I read the quote from Macbeth, the sadder I become.
You need to introduce your unique friends. Would be nice to know them. Why do you like the people that you do? Is it because they are nice or is it because you gel with them?
Mehnaz: I liked Tausifi sahab - may need to google him and read more of his stuff
Beyond: I have regular friends but I like them as they are dyslexic like me
Please dont mind me asking sir. What about those (living) stories, which are never read or understood? :(
Dopamine (What a nick you have) - I believe 99% of stories go unnoticed, untold and unearthed - Unfortunate - or may be fortunate, as it may destroy our hearts beyond repair
Beautifully said sir. You perfected the thought that crossed my mind.
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