Category: Rana Dasgupta

Rana Dasgupta

He was like the other half of myself,’ says Boris…Ulrich says, ‘You haven’t lost {him}, you know. I don’t know if it helps to say that. I lost a friend once myself, and I know how it goes.’He’ll find his way inside you, and you’ll carry him onward. Behind your heartbeat, you’ll hear another one, faint and out of step. People will say you are speaking his opinons, or your hair has turned like his.’There are no more facts about him — that part is over. Now is the time for essential things…Gradually you’ll grow older than him, and love him as your son.’You’ll live astride the line that separates life from death. You’ll become experienced in the wisdom of grief. You won’t wait until people die to grieve for them; you’ll give them their grief while they are still alive, for then judgment falls away, and there remains only the miracle of being.

Rana Dasgupta

(Ulrich, 100 year old Bulgarian man): in Solo, by Rana Dasgupta”Ulrich has sometimes wondered whether his life has been a failure. Once he would have looked at all this and said yes. But now he does not know what it means for a life to succeed or fail. How can a dog fail its life, or a tree? A life is just a quantity; and he can no more see failure in it than he can see failure in a pile of earth, or a bucket of water. Failure and success are foreign terms to such blind matter.” (p. 160)

Rana Dasgupta

You haven’t lost Iraki, you know. I don’t know if it helps to say that. I lost a friend once myself, and I know how it goes.’He’ll find his way inside you, and you’ll carry him onward. Behind your heartbeat, you’ll hear another one, faint and out of step. People will say you are speaking his opinions, or your hair has turned like his.’There are no more facts about him, that part is over. Now is the time for essential things. You’ll see visions of him wherever you go. You’ll see his eyes so moist, his intentions so blinding, you’ll think he is more alive than you. You will look around and wonder if it was you who died.’Gradually you’ll grow older than him, and love him as your son. ‘In the future, you’ll live astride the line separating life from death. You’ll become experienced in the wisdom of grief. You won’t wait until people die to grieve for them. You’ll give them their grief while they are still alive, for then judgement falls away, and there remains only the miracle of being.’

Rana Dasgupta

Before the man lost his sight, he read this story in a magazine: a group of explorers came upon a community of parrots speaking the language of a society that had been wiped out in a recent catastrophe. Astonished by their discovery, they put the parrots in cages and sent them home so that linguists could record what remained of the lost language. But the parrots, already traumatized by the devastation they had recently witnessed, died on the way.The man feels a great fraternity with those birds. He feels he carries, like them, a shredded inheritance, and he is too concussed to pass anything on.

Rana Dasgupta

He was like the other half of myself,’ says Boris…Ulrich says, ‘You haven’t lost {him}, you know. I don’t know if it helps to say that. I lost a friend once myself, and I know how it goes.’He’ll find his way inside you, and you’ll carry him onward. Behind your heartbeat, you’ll hear another one, faint and out of step. People will say you are speaking his opinons, or your hair has turned like his.’There are no more facts about him — that part is over. Now is the time for essential things…Gradually you’ll grow older than him, and love him as your son.’You’ll live astride the line that separates life from death. You’ll become experienced in the wisdom of grief. You won’t wait until people die to grieve for them; you’ll give them their grief while they are still alive, for then judgment falls away, and there remains only the miracle of being.

Rana Dasgupta

Before the man lost his sight, he read this story in a magazine: a group of explorers came upon a community of parrots speaking the language of a society that had been wiped out in a recent catastrophe. Astonished by their discovery, they put the parrots in cages and sent them home so that linguists could record what remained of the lost language. But the parrots, already traumatized by the devastation they had recently witnessed, died on the way.The man feels a great fraternity with those birds. He feels he carries, like them, a shredded inheritance, and he is too concussed to pass anything on.