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Quote by Durjoy Datta

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Hold My Hand

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Durjoy Datta

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“Life follows the same routine-I wake up to nothing new or exciting. Everyday it's the same. Except some days, days like today, when I wake up with a powerful desire of going right back to sleep. Or maybe be spared the pain of having ever to wake up again. I'm just tired. Tired of the monotony, tired of pitying myself and my dad, tired of being a subject of sympathy who crosses my path, and of being so pathetically obsessed with a guy who doesn't give a shit about me.”

“Life follows the same routine-I wake up to nothing new or exciting. Everyday i's the same. Except some days, days like today, when I wake up with a powerful desire of going right back to sleep. And maybe be spared the pain of having ever to wake up again. I'm just tired. Tired of the monotony, tired of pitying myself and my dad, tired of being a subject of sympathy who crosses my path, and of being so pathetically obsessed with a guy who doesn't give a shit about me.”

“I remember the pissaladière. We stood there watching them cook and eating that soft, oily bread. Back then I was so poor I was living on bread and cheese, and the flavor of olives and anchovies went straight through me." He stopped, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, as if he was summoning the words from the air. "The wine was flowing, and the celery was crisp. Richard had found some old farmer who gave him a great ripe wheel of Brie that dripped off the edges of the bread. Richard and that crazy chef kept arguing, but it wasn't a fight, it was a seduction." Stella wanted to ask what they had argued about, but she was afraid to interrupt the rhythm of his words. "Richard wanted to keep it simple--- you know how he is--- but that chef had his own ideas. I remember he started dicing fish and mixing it with onions, tomatoes, and little bits of celery. 'Limes!' he said. 'I must have limes!' None of us had ever heard of ceviche, and we were astonished. Then Richard concocted a chicken gratin with a cheese custard on top, and the chef made the most beautiful salad I'd ever seen. He threw everything into it--- pieces of lemon, bits of cheese, and then he took the violets out of the vase and tossed in the petals. It was beautiful.”

“One of the heaviest load so many people are carrying today is neither thoughts about things they lack nor things they wish to have, nor how to manage what they already have, but toxic words that have taken a greater portion of their thoughts and such words not just occupying a great part of their hearts, but also draining their very joy in life!”

“Suppose that we agree that the two atrocities can or may be mentioned in the same breath. Why should we do so? I wrote at the time (The Nation, October 5, 1998) that Osama bin Laden 'hopes to bring a "judgmental" monotheism of his own to bear on these United States.' Chomsky's recent version of this is 'considering the grievances expressed by people of the Middle East region.' In my version, then as now, one confronts an enemy who wishes ill to our society, and also to his own (if impermeable religious despotism is considered an 'ill'). In Chomsky's reading, one must learn to sift through the inevitable propaganda and emotion resulting from the September 11 attacks, and lend an ear to the suppressed and distorted cry for help that comes, not from the victims, but from the perpetrators. I have already said how distasteful I find this attitude. I wonder if even Chomsky would now like to have some of his own words back? Why else should he take such care to quote himself deploring the atrocity? Nobody accused him of not doing so. It's often a bad sign when people defend themselves against charges which haven't been made.”