In those hours when the night is still dark and cold, we see Alokananda waking up to the faint sound of stifled sobs. The sheets besides her are creaseless, sleepless. She gets up silently, her body: blank, a patchwork of frugal impulses. She gathers the warmth of her Pashmina shawl around her, the shawl that she knows still hides threads from a shirt or two of his: remnants of embraces, once feisty and long forgotten.’(' Left from Dhakeshwari'). Kunal Sen
I'm tired of living unable to love anyone. I don't have a single friend - not one. And, worst of all, I can't even love myself. Why is that? Why can't I love myself? It's because I can't love anyone else. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>A person...
-
Haruki Murakami
That’s love: Two lonely persons keep each other safe and touch each other and talk to each other.
-
Rainer Maria Rilke
Sometimes I get real lonely sleeping with you.
-
Haruki Murakami
If loneliness was a choice, what was the other option? To settle for second-best and try to be happy with that? And was that fair to the person you settled for?
-
Lisa Kleypas
Sometimes the sound of silence is the most deafening sound of all.
-
K.L. Toth
More Quotes By Kunal Sen
Why weren’t you beautiful? That would’ve solved everything.’(' Left from Dhakeshwari')
Back then, come July, and the blazers would again make their way out of the steel trunks and evenings would be spent looking at snow-capped mountains from our terrace and spotting the first few lights on the hills above. It was the time for radishes...
The last thing Farinoush did on several nights just before she went to bed was to rummage through her cardboard box of old things looking for him. And there he invariably remained, nestled forever between a copy of ‘Jana Aranya’ and ‘The Hours’. She read...
In those hours when the night is still dark and cold, we see Alokananda waking up to the faint sound of stifled sobs. The sheets besides her are creaseless, sleepless. She gets up silently, her body: blank, a patchwork of frugal impulses. She gathers the...
I had no eyelashes left. So when I cried, the tears rolled down, unabated to my mouth. My saliva tasted those days, like a salt lake. Or so he said.'(' Left from Dhakeshwari')
