Prateeti Sengupta
Literary Brigadier
AUTHOR OF THE YEAR 2019 - NOMINEE

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If I can’t get over myself, maybe it’s time to get under myself, under my own skin, to find out what my problem is.

The greatest weakness is not knowing one’s own weaknesses. The biggest loser is the one who never loses.

Sitting on the couch, hand in hand, staring at the television blatting away into the night. It could be a meeting of true minds. Or, the two minds could be a billion light-years apart. It’s just a coin toss. Truth is, you never can tell.

No matter how accurately you calculate probabilities, or how sophisticated your predictive analysis algorithm, the future is a mystery gift wrapped up in the fabric of space-time. Perhaps the only way to take a peek is to create a little rip in that fabric, but those who do that, do so at their peril. Add to that the fact that it’s still a subject of speculative fiction

Being human means that some of us get to be hopelessly but ridiculously gifted, and all of us to be irretrievably damaged.

Good listeners don’t really listen. They usually know when to make the right noises, and wear the right expressions; when to nod, and when to shake their heads. It’s an art.

The tussle between good and evil is the stuff of life as well as art. The difference lies in the treatment : art tries to find a solution, while life tells you that there is none.

Beauty and Truth are fragile. They better not be touched.

No one can presume to know anyone else. One can’t even begin to scratch the surface of one’s own self. Perhaps ignorance IS bliss after all.


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