Azadi Sözleri ve Alıntıları
Azadi sözleri ve alıntılarını, Azadi kitap alıntılarını, Azadi en etkileyici cümleleri ve paragragları 1000Kitap'ta bulabilirsiniz.
people who speak the same language are not necessarily the ones who understand each other best.
The language is that most private and yet most public of things.
The man who loves spectacles created the mother of all spectacles.
In India, it is not possible to speak of Kashmir with any degree of honesty without risking bodily harm.
Twenty years after the publication of The God of Small Things, I finished writing my second novel, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness. Perhaps I shouldn’t say this, but if a novel can have an enemy, then the enemy of this novel is the idea of “one nation, one religion, one language.
If Nazi Germany was a country seeking to impose its imagination onto a continent (and beyond), the impetus of an RSS-ruled India is, in a sense, the opposite. Here is a continent seeking to shrink itself into a country.
About the story of Kashmir and India, and India and Kashmir, I can do no better than to quote James Baldwin: “And they would not believe me, precisely because they would know that what I said was true.” The story of Kashmir is not the sum of its human rights reports. It’s not only about massacres, torture, disappearance, and mass graves, or about victims and their oppressors. Some of the most terrifying things that happen in Kashmir would not necessarily qualify as human rights violations. For a writer, Kashmir holds great lessons about the human substance. About power, powerlessness, treachery, loyalty, love, humor, faith. What happens to people who live under a military occupation for decades? What are the negotiations that take place when the very air is seeded with terror? What happens to language?
What happens to people who administer, digest, and justify the horror? What happens to people who allow it to go on and on—in their name? The narrative of Kashmir is a jigsaw puzzle whose jagged parts do not fit together. There is no final picture.
Does a country fall into fascism the way a person falls in love? Or, more accurately, in hate?
The vulnerable are being cordoned off and silenced. The vociferous are being incarcerated
In What Language Does Rain Fall Over Tormented Cities?