Wednesday, April 29, 2009

His Eyes

He was then fifteen. He was a silent boy, thoughtful; and the quietness in his deep grey eyes seemed to me like a promise of warmth and understanding I had never known. There was a tightness in my chest, because it hurt to be shut out from the world of simple kindness he lived in. I sat there, opposite him, and said to myself that I had known him all my life and yet until this moment had never understood what he was. I looked at those extra-ordinarily clear eyes, that were like water over grey pebbles, I gazed and gazed, until he gave me a slow direct look which showed he knew I had been staring. It was like a warning, as if a door had been shut.

- Doris Lessing,
Flavours of exile.

8 comments:

mahendrap said...

Poetic. I'm speechless.

Rajesh said...

Very true, we stare at people until we are noticed.

Nice one.

Joe Pinto said...

My dear Gauri,

When you find such extra-ordinary bits and pieces, please reproduce them on your blog, for our pleasure and public education.

Warm regards,
- Joe.

firaq darvesh said...

Dear Gauri,
Simply beautiful and poetic.Adolescence is like a morning dream which comes after many restless nights to bring many sweet and sour feelings to make one even more restless!

" Gul hairan hai apni hi khushboo se ay "khalish"...
..Aur dar bhi hai use apne is zar-o-maal ka..."
-VLG "khalish"/29-04-2009.

coffeeismypoison said...

like water over grey...
beautiful imagery :)
We often know when we're being watched...

Sara said...

Very beautiful, thanks for sharing!!

Julia Scissor said...

Thanks for sharing. It would have been better if you had added your own thoughts / commentary to it. The personal touch to a post is lost if someone's work or an excerpt from it reproduced verbatim.

Gauri Gharpure said...

Mahendra, Rajesh, Sir, Baba, Coffee, Sara-- Thanks.. Doris Lessing's short stories are worth a read. This is from a short story (Flavours of exile) from her collection called Grass Between Their Feet.

Julia-- Thanks for that candid comment. Some words simply leave you struck dumb by their mere beauty and power.. I am at a loss of words, or feel myself too small to actually 'comment' upon such writing, when I do come across it.. the excerpts here are to introduce some writers in a way no book review can. For my personal thoughts (Orwell, Durrel, Pamuk) or more such plain excerpts, you may read some posts under the label book review.