Kuch is kadar barse baadal garaj kar
Shayad wo humare rooh k sannate ko
Aawaz se bhar dena chahte the

Par jab rooh hi tut chuki ho
To kaunse badal kuch kar paenge

The diary was evidence; it was—it might be—corroboration. It might disrupt the banal reiterations of memory. It might jump-start something—though I had no idea what.

But to wish oneself into another's glory, as boy or as man, is an impossibility, untenable on psychological grounds if you are not a writer, and on aesthetic grounds if you are.

...The end is so immense, it is its own poetry. It requires little rhetoric. Just state it plainly.

Written By Philip Roth

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