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Quote by Matshona Dhliwayo

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Matshona Dhliwayo

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“भारतात शरद ऋतु येतो आणि आपण त्याची फारशी दखल घेण्याआधीच तो निघून जातो. झाडांची पानं थोडीफार खाली पडतात, पण बरीचशी जुनी पानं जाग्यावर असतानाच त्यांना नवी पालवी फुटते. इंग्लंडमध्ये असं नसतं. सप्टेंबर-अॉक्टोबरमधे 'एव्हरग्रीन' झाडांचा अपवाद वगळता बाकीच्या प्रत्येक झाडावरचं प्रत्येक पान खाली उतरतं. तांबूससोनेरी पानांच्या जाड पायघड्या उद्यानांमधून हिरवळीच्या कडेनं अंथरल्या जातात. ही पानं कुजकी बिळबीळीत नसतात. हिवाळ्याच्या प्रारंभी झाड त्यांच्यातला जीवनरस शोषून घेतं. पुस्तकात घालून ठेवलेल्या पानांसारखं त्यांना जाळीदार आणि रेखीव करतं. पडलेली ही चुरचुरीत पानं मग वारा गोळा करतो. घोटाभर पाऊल बुडवणाऱ्या या गालिच्यावरून त्यांचा मंद सुगंध घेत अनवाणी चालावं. चिरोट्यांवरून चालत गेल्यागत प्रत्येक पाऊल चुर्र चुर्र वाजतं. बोटांना होणाऱ्या गुदगुल्यांची शिरशिरी अंगभर पसरते...”

“In calm cold midwinter, there was a starving hunter, who lost his way in forest, and had no food no shelter, One day he woke of hunger, and started walking faster, he walked for miles and miles, but nothing saw his eyes, He trembled of an anger, his hope forever died, like thirsty bowing flower, the poor hunter cried, He started walking further, then saw a wounded deer, who lied near the river, with so much pain to bear. The deer was also hunted, by hunter like this man, her eyes were getting colder, and filled with so much fear, The hunter felt so pity, of what he saw over there, his sufferings were same as, of which were of the deer, And then they died together, as reached the starving”