Vignettes and Visuals

1. After his forced apology, before the Powers that be, Galileo apparently murmured, “… And yet it moves.”

I grin to myself. How many of us are often muttering like that all the time.

” Sorry that my thoughts do not match your expectations. I shall try to adjust my outlook and seek solace in  a cocktail of mediocrity, intolerance, hatred, and stupidity.”

And yet it moves.. The earth of human thoughts around the sun of great minds.

2. The charmed bed of Procrustes leaves the innocent mangled. Either she is cut short to fit the standards or stretched to fit in. I read the Medieval torture instrument, Iron Lady, was also similar in utilitarian function.

For a moment I think of young freedom fighters of my country, who were martyred. They refused to give up their ideals even under the Procrustean tortures. They could have opted to slink out like cowards, but they did not. Worldwide, every country respects their martyrs. And yet, the quality of courage of conviction, has few takers in the materialistic environment.

3. Title of a vernacular article on the importance of Libraries and Books. Loosely translated, ” The house which is afraid of a girl’s reading habits, is under Dictatorship.” That was by the writer SaradaKutty. She comments that books are the best weapons a girl can have for self protection in this world.

Remembrances of many writers on the libraries which nourished them, were interesting.

Muzzafar Ahmad writes that on his sixteenth birthday, the local librarian handed him a vernacular translation of Brothers Karamazov. As he gaped at it, the librarian quipped, “This one will remain a good book till the world ends. And it will also decide whether you will continue to read all your life.”

The teenager went back, gasping, maddened, awed, demanding more; Ahmad adds.

4. I ended up reading that Borges , surrounded by Argentinian football, disliked  the game. He was worried about the subtle politicisation of it by the Powers that be. I thought about  previously read discourses on Eduardo  Galeano’s book-on football under sun and shade.  The theme was not very different. Okay, at least Albert Camus liked his football!!

A voice within me laughs… And yet, it moves.

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