Here’s what I replied to a post by The Book Club of Karachi on Facebook, “The most inspirational sentence you read in 2013?”
I could choose once sentence from this passage maybe, but this whole passage is too brilliant to ignore. This stunned me probably like nothing else this year. A wonderful book and a wonderful writer, from which I hope to share more passages in the coming days.
‘Ofcourse, when Alyosha was in the monastery he believed entirely in miracles, but I dont think miracles ever confound a realist. Nor is it miracles that bring a realist to religion. If he is an unbeliever, a true realist will always find the strength & ability not to believe in a miracle, and if he is confronted with a miracle as an irrefutable fact, he will rather disbelieve his own senses than accept that fact. Or he may concede the fact and explain it away as a natural phenomenon until then unknown. In a realist, it is not miracles that generate faith, but faith that generates miracles. Once a realist becomes a believer, however, his very realism will make him accept the existence of miracles. The apostle Thomas said he would not believe until he saw, and when he saw, he said: ”My Lord and my God!”. Was it a miracle that made him believe? Most likely not. He believed only because he wanted to believe, and possibly he already believed in the secret recesses of his being.’
Fyodor Dostoevsky in The Brothers Karamazov.
How one feels to be hurt
To be hurt by people who mean the world
People you’d sacrifice yourselves for, if need be
And how would it feel
When you cannot communicate the intensity of your emotion across
Marred by their insensitivity and your own alter-ego
Some would call it self-respect, some would call it fate
In the end, it’s just another pathway to hell’s gate
How would it feel, to despair
To scream at them outside, and
To bleed inside torn by blood love
To cry for them, as if tears made up of your very soul
To pray for them, as if praying for sins granted no penance
To fight a fight full of spite, how would it feel …
To know it’s a fight you’ll lose either way
When you know their triumph is despair for you
And your triumph is their despair
How would it feel, to counter an adversary as such,
An adversary you’d hate to hurt …
How would it feel, have you ever wondered?
What would you do with such ruthlessness?
When you try to get numb, when you surround yourself in ice
How would it feel for just one hot tear, painful as death itself
For just one such drop to vaporize ice?
How would it feel have you ever wondered?
To break a heart, I believe
It only needs love & hate
Have you ever felt
A contagious emotion such as love?
Have you ever wondered
About the irony that is love?
About the paradox that is love?