Friday, May 30, 2008

Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only

That men, self-tortured, everywhere must bleed -

And here and there one happy man sits lonely.

- Faust, Goethe

I love the book Faust, though my intelligence (or the lack of intelligence) did not allow me to grasp everything that I read in it (it is a very deep book anyway). This excerpt says the more we learn, the more we only understand that the less understanding we have and the farther and farther from happiness we go, even though ironically, this flight for learning started for the want of happiness. But here and there, sits a man alone, happy. Does this mean happiness is achieved in isolation? Or does it mean a happy man is hard to come by? And what makes him happy? The fact that he is lonely? Or that he is sitting and not running after the wind?


Calcutta, breather of summer heat that dazes you, inspirer of thousands of told and untold minds, centre of the intellect for a long long time...
But for now, I shelter in an AC-ed cafe, procrastinating the event of plunging myself headlong into that wet and hugging summer air. I haven't come across a single book store as yet. I have heard of the famous street book corners all over Park Street. All I have witnessed rather have only been Optical stores with grinning spectacled models and tumbledown buildings. Not too bad though. There's always tomorrow.