morning boy's letters on serious matters and commentary on funny things aplenty
“Entertaining and brilliantly written, this is a pretty reckless romp of a history through classical music and much much more.”
That’s the last line to describe the book Stephen Fry’s Incomplete and Utter History of Classical Music.
I want a reckless romp, especially when it is in a book form.
I couldn’t find the Kindle version. Let me wait for the lock down to get over.
Both, the incomplete, and the work in progress, stimulate a critic. The critic wants to stand at the end of the world.
Murakami’s books end but leave a feeling of incompletion.
‘Work in progress’ and ‘incomplete’, for an instance felt similar.
It’s alright to write an incomplete book.
Scores should be primarily based on ‘how many questions’ a student comes up with. Teacher may respond to such a suggestion, ‘How am I to teach if I also have to keep a count of questions?’ Policy maker will say, ‘But we all know the questions. Why waste time!’
He was trying to get away from her, weaving his way through parked cars, she dressed in white smilingly carrying her new born baby girl to show to him.
A critic’s favorite tool is a list. A doer’s is also a list. The difference is in the space-time in which these two lists exist and whether they undergo any change or not. The doer’s list changes frequently in unknown ways and so does the doer’s space-time. The critic’s remains the same.
It occurs to me, at 153rd chapter of HHhH, that the Nazi system was a rigorous and vigorous list-making machine. List, the favorite bureaucratic tool, most often horrifying.
Krishna didn’t let the Pandavas forget. He was the greatest sounding board, the greatest spokesperson and the greatest conscience keeper for Pandavas. As a keeper of conscience, his job involved reminding. Reminding. Reminding.
Suppose the football ground is altered a little bit, the goal posts at either end brought inside such that players get space to dribble all around and even behind the goal-net without the ball going out of play…
He finds it incredible that so many people close to him don’t understand him. I wonder, are we meant to be understood? Besides, it is hard for anyone to say how far one doesn’t understand. Like, 90% not understood, or 65%?
It is not important to decide the category or genre before you begin writing. Whatever it is that grips you may not attract and assume an immediate name. Let the words flow regardless.
Is anyone writing letters these days, apart from transactional and legal ones?
Should I attempt to learn German, now that I read these really long German words?
Sometimes, he initiates a conversation by talking. Sometimes, he initiates without talking. But it’s he who initiates.
Sometimes my pursuits are so funny. I am searching for books on Indian temples on Kindle. Nuts!
Density of thoughts may not let the right thought to flower.
The screen must be out of sight for a blank piece of paper to have even a chance to get its due.
One has to treat oneself as at least 2 personalities, in conversation with each other.
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