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:
Poetic. I'm speechless.
Very true, we stare at people until we are noticed.
Nice one.
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.
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.
like water over grey...
beautiful imagery :)
We often know when we're being watched...
Very beautiful, thanks for sharing!!
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.
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.
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