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Quote by Jirō Taniguchi

“My hometown... was always there, at all times, unchanging. What I think... is not that we go back to our hometowns, but that someday our hometowns come back into each of our hearts.”

Quote by Jirō Taniguchi

Work

A Journal Of My Father

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Author

Jirō Taniguchi

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“Hope is a grand thing, and having heroes is essential to human aspiration. That is part of why I tell these stories. That said, you do need to learn to separate the story—and what it has done to you—from the individual who prompted it. Art—and all stories are art, even the ones about real people—is about what it does to you. The true hero is the one in your mind, the representation of an ideal that makes you a better person. The individual who inspired it, well, they’re like the book on the table or the art on the wall. A vessel. A syringe full of transformational aspiration. Don’t force people to live up to your dreams of who they might be.”

“It’s all about having the heart … to leave the city and its false glitter for home if you’ve tried long enough and still can’t make it. I would be a big liar to tell you it’s easy to survive after having left home for years. You’re almost like a child when you return – you are starting from the scratch. But you have to behave like a child too if you’re ready to survive; be ever eager to learn. Get ready to take insults from every village rats set to eat your yams of respect and pride. Toe the line till you settle down properly and begin to understand the ways of the people back home. People would laugh at you at first but when your conditions start improving, everyone would laugh with you. Don’t forget the saying of our people: the same mouth that speaks of evil is the same mouth that speaks of good. It’s the heart to go back not minding the years that have been wasted. That is the secret.”

“وها أنت تتخلّصُ ممّا كان يمتنعُ عليك التخلّصُ منه، تلك المدينة، مدينتي، التي توهّمتُ أنّها ستكون حاضرةً للأبد، شديدةَ الرسُوخِ، وعَصِيّةً على الالتهام، فأغذّي أنا أيضًا شراهتي في تدميرِها وهلاكِها. هي تفرُّ وأنا لا أعُودُ”

“On that momentous day of my first return to my grandfather’s place in Ojoto after many years of my sojourn in America, I was lost in my thought until a light wind blew across the pedestrian path in a wooded area where I stood, caressing the trees’ leaves and small branches. The stubborn leaves swerved in all directions like untrained dancers learning to strut after consuming palm-wine from large calabash jugs. Looking up, I watched weakened leaves snapped off and gained their freedom from primordial trees. A liberation dance followed in the dense air above me before the leaves set down. Listening to beautiful sounds made by birds converging around me, as if they were singing for the newly liberated leaves, I found myself lost in the wonderment of nature. What I experienced had drawn me back to that exhilarating place for mental respite each time I returned home.”