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Quote by Abhijit Naskar

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Yarasistan: My Wounds, My Crown

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Abhijit Naskar

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“Actually "nerve" is one of the qualities it takes to tackle a first novel, the others being inflated ego and a gambler's sense of crazed bravado, all of which I felt imbued with, more or less, when I sat down to write my account of one woman's efforts to keep her ex-husband, a deranged fence jumper, out of her apartment and life.”

“Like many mind-altering drugs, alcohol had shown me where I wanted to go but alcohol couldn't get me there. It didn't have the power. I needed sobriety to connect me to stronger forces than my earthbound self. Whether these forces are God or nature is beside the point. Call them what you will. I feel that I instinctively knew I wasn't here alone or by sheer brute chance, but to live my life with as much courage and joy as possible before I returned to where I came from. I think that's really the goal.”

“How do you know how you are if you wear the same things as before?” she asked. "You have to shake your life until you rid yourself of everything you thought you were. You will shiver during the transition and then replenish with non-identity. After that, you’ll see clearly. What does that mean? Well, you may have to move out of this country. Build your closet from the ground up. Befriend those you despise. Take a left. Trade different things, you see? One must refresh themselves. Stay current with the needs of our soul.” “The adventure isn’t real though... like, people don’t actually do those things. It’s very romantic, but it’s not true. People don’t actually do that.” “What in the world? Do you know your history? We are anything– anything!—we are... in medieval times, kings would behead their brothers. Rulers would commission the most talented artists in the world to paint their bathroom ceilings. People have defeated mammoths with sticks. People have loved. People have killed the innocent to hurt the guilty. Waited until dawn. Mocked death. Staged coup d'états. Go further in your emotions and convictions. Increase your tolerance for extremity. Life can stretch.” “I think you’re mad,” giggled Andrei, shifting his feet. “Like a comet,” she stared with a firm jaw.”