Jindagi ka har
Najara anmol hai
Isse jibha jiyo

Nunca he escrito, creyendo hacerlo, nunca he amado, creyendo amar, nunca he hecho nada salvo esperar delante de la puerta cerrada.

What he yearned for at that moment, vaguely but with all his might, was unbounded music, absolute sound, a pleasant and happy all-encompassing, over-powering, window-rattling din to engulf, once and for all, the pain, the futility, the vanity of words. Music was the negation of sentences, music was the anti-word!

İnsan aşıkken başkalarının kayıtsızlığı çok garibine gider.(s.40)

Written By Virginia Woolf

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