Chandra K. Panjiyar

Amid this indigenous dread of death, which has been there since time immemorial, and the desire to latch onto something eternal, a flaming emotion is born in the human soul. This emotion is yearning.

We are, after all, the aching yearning of this universe. And never again, never, never, another one like us will walk this planet and never again a soul, with depth and intensity like us, will feel the warm dazzle of the moon the way we feel. This is reality, and the universe, better than any of us,...

The confusion, now leaving its lingering buzz in this house, slipped out of the windows, floated past the ancient well, and diffused into the other houses of the locality with unrestrained efficiency.

On what lightning did lord travel that far

This triumph of Han Kang is not only her individual triumph but the triumph of literature itself, of the human soul itself, and as Kafka would put it, “of books that act like the axe for the frozen sea within us.” 

After all, how many more Prakritis should commit suicide, and how many more Sushans should be found dead and abandoned, all alone, by the cold banks of the rivers in foreign countries before our leaders take the matter in hand and initiate solid action to save our youths, who are the soul and future...

Of course, it is sad to die but it will be sadder, if we really contemplate thoroughly about it, to live forever. 

To cripple a nation, one starts, above all, by launching a vicious assault on its education system. This is exactly what is happening in the present context of our country.   

The ongoing teachers’ protest and the state’s inability to effectively address their pressing concerns have undermined, or is at least about to undermine, the final examination of +2 students.    

Sometimes didi would talk about rain, but with immense restrain, as if she were talking about her secret lover.