Singh Song Quotes

Her wild storm had just told her he loved her, the piercing joy of his song branding her as indelibly his. I’ll be home soon, princess.

Once, he'd used it in song, but the songs in his heart had gone silent long ago, and he knew that one day so would his voice. A man with nothing inside him eventually had nothing to say.

This song is for my Molly, who is the best fucking thing that´s ever happened to me. Also, for those suicidal idiots sending her fan mail asking her to run away with them, I will hunt you down and rip off you nuts.

If you ever find something worth singing for again", she said, a silent, fierce hope in her heart for his song, "I hope you will invite me to listen.

You know when you get the whisper of a melody in your head, or the murmur of a song? And you have the gut feeling that if you could just hear the rest of it, just capture the music”—the need an ache as frustrating as it was piercing—“you’d have something fucking amazing?” Noah nodded. “Yeah well, that’s what it feels like with Molly.” The most compelling whisper of his life. “I’m not about to walk away from that.

Bhagat Singh revered Lajpat Rai as a leader. But he would not spare even Lajpat Rai, when, during the last years of his life, Lajpat Rai turned to communal politics. He then launched a political-ideological campaign against him. Because Lajpat Rai was a respected leader, he would not publicly use harsh words of criticism against him. And so he printed as a pamphlet Robert Browning’s famous poem, ‘The Lost Leader,’ in which Browning criticizes Wordsworth for turning against liberty. The poem begins with the line ‘Just for a handful of silver he left us.’ A few more of the poem’s lines were: ‘We shall march prospering, not thro’ his presence; Songs may inspirit us, not from his lyre,’ and ‘Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more.’ There was not one word of criticism of Lajpat Rai. Only, on the front cover, he printed Lajpat Rai’s photograph!

Once upon a time there was a little king, whose dreams always brought him new wings, but his fate never knew what he could bring, so carried on a life that just delivered stings. One day he met the song he wished to sing, but didnt seem to understand this one little thing, how can the wind stop at the sound of broken strings, how can he spend a childhood alone on a swing. He stands alone empty with a promise in waiting, his story has just begun tall and refusing, he knows his game well but no dream is he using, but the sleep fate has taken has his dreams aging.

— Tu sei la canzone perfetta: l’ho capito fin dalla prima sera che siamo stati insieme. “La canzone perfetta.” Nessuno le aveva mai detto una cosa tanto bella.

The beauty of man is often the child that lives on in him. Source: The River Goddess by Vijay Singh Only humour can conquer death. Source: One Dollar Curry, a film by Vijay Singh To write is to meet solitude, face to face...nothing is more creative than a solitude where the presence of the other...is more present than ever... Source: Jaya Ganga, In Search of the River Goddess by Vijay Singh When reality is bitter, let life be a dream. Source: India by Song, a film by Vijay Singh Who is not a poet on earth? Some write with words, others write with silence. Source: Jaya Ganga (the film) by Vijay Singh

As the moth falls into the lamp, as the thief steals without hesitation, as the elephant is trapped by its sexual urges, as the sinner is caught in his sins, as the gambler’s addiction does not leave him, so is this mind of Nanak’s attached to the Lord.  || 8 ||   As the deer loves the sound of the bell, and as the song-bird longs for the rain, the Lord’s humble servant lives in the Society of the Saints, lovingly meditating and vibrating upon the Lord of the Universe.

The songs we play, is the life we live

After blowing out the candle in one puff once the song was over, she took a careful bite. He waited for her to spit it back out, but she actually swallowed, then took a second bite. "Try it," she said around the mouthful. "It's pretty good." Sailor figured she was pulling his leg, but it was her birthday after all. He took a bite. And felt his eyes widen. "I'm a culinary genius." Actually, the cake was chewy and dense, but there was no salt instead of sugar, which, in his book made this a win. But even better was seeing Ísa smile with open happiness.

By March 1948 Sheikh Abdullah was the most important man in the Valley. Hari Singh was still the state’s ceremonial head – now called ‘sadr-i-riyasat’ – but he had no real powers. The government of India completely shut him out of the UN deliberations. Their man, as they saw it, was Abdullah. Only he, it was felt, could ‘save’ Kashmir for the Union. At this stage Abdullah himself was inclined to stress the ties between Kashmir and India. In May 1948 he organized a week-long ‘freedom’ celebration in Srinagar, to which he invited the leading lights of the Indian government. The events on the calendar included folk songs and poetry readings, the remembrance of martyrs and visits to refugee camps. The Kashmiri leader commended the ‘patriotic morale of our own people and the gallant fighting forces of the Indian Union’. ‘Our struggle’, said Abdullah, ‘is not merely the affair of the Kashmir people, it is the war of every son and daughter of India.’59 On the first anniversary of Indian independence Abdullah sent a message to the leading Madras weekly, Swatantra. The message sought to unite north and south, mountain and coast, and, above all, Kashmir and India. It deserves to be printed in full: Through the pages of SWATANTRA I wish to send my message of fraternity to the people of the south. Far back in the annals of India the south and north met in the land of Kashmir. The great Shankaracharya came to Kashmir to spread his dynamic philosophy but here he was defeated in argument by a Panditani. This gave rise to the peculiar philosophy of Kashmir – Shaivism. A memorial to the great Shankaracharya in Kashmir stands prominent on the top of the Shankaracharya Hill in Srinagar. It is a temple containing the Murti of Shiva. More recently it was given to a southerner to take the case of Kashmir to the United Nations and, as the whole of India knows, with the doggedness and tenacity that is so usual to the southerner, he defended Kashmir. We in Kashmir expect that we shall continue to receive support and sympathy from the people of the south and that some day when we describe the extent of our country we shall use the phrase ‘from Kashmir to Cape Comorin’.60

The song he sang was about a sparrow with a broken wing, and it fucking tore Abe’s heart right out of his chest, left it bleeding on the floor.

She wraps him with her flirtatious song - full of hints – then follows it with an ode in which with slow posturing she upbraids him, curses him, implores him, then finally adjures him with desperate wringing of her hands.

Our days will pass in singing songs. We will roam the jungles and I will teach you the language of all animals. You will fear them no more and will pick flowers instead after you have tired of gazing at the beauty that would surround us. During the day I will turn the wheel and make pots and you will string flowers together and make garlands for gods and men. We will sell them at the temple in the evening and by nights you will cradle in my arms and listen to a new story every night before shutting your eyes to the long beautiful day. And when all my stories are exhausted we will together make new ones. This is the way queens must live

As I said to you, Your drinking that bitter water Where I drink through my ears Those songs to go, to disappear Into those clouds of memories and dreams, I see them with my heart in my eyes To feel them, to listen Slow beats of my heart. What a coincidence ! To get drunk you and I… - A Thought - You And I (II) - Maninder Singh writer

The taunts of the family members and the songs of Arijit Singh come straight to the heart

All the beating up people, the pimping, the insurance scams. She’s the one pushing. It’s only money she love. He was doing good good with the little fishing and small betting. But she came and turned everything topsy turvy.

How many times Boysie will break my heart so? Like he never going to choose me? Why I not good enough?

How you could marry a man that’s not even Christian? Eh? Answer me that. This is the example you’re setting your sisters and them?

Imagine, a pissing-tail crab catcher’s family thought I was too low down to come inside their two-by-four tapia house.

It’s my snakeness that makes me hungry to mate plenty and with endless different people. For saying what I want and taking it, I’ve been called all kindna names: beast, devil, monster, whore. Normal women, good women, don’t carry on so. Like I care. Man them can’t understand why I demand the same satisfaction they get from sexing.

But then again, love’s funny. She wouldn’t be the first to think that if you loved a man plenty plenty he’d change to how you want. Waste of time. The only body you can change is you, and even that is pressure.

don’t know how to feel. If Boysie ends up hanging it will be what he deserves for all the bad he do. But say what you want, he’s been a good father from the start. Chunksee will grieve for a long time. Me? I’ll only ever be as happy as my child.

Boysie saying I is he own when two of we know that by the time he leave and reach the road he done forget me. Until that laar needs a warm hole I might as well not exist. I played like I was vex vex.

That hard labour stretch left Boysie bony and with skin dark like baigan from being whole day in the hot sun.

This kirpan came with Boysie’s Sikh baap direct from the Punjab. Most of the people I knew on the estate came from Bihar, or, like my parents, Uttar Pradesh.

But talking to Boysie over the months I realised that apart from Diwali celebrations he ain’t know one fart about being Hindu. I’m sure he doesn’t remember when last he went inside a mandir. Just like my parents, he ma and baap crossed the kala pani from India and born Boysie in Trinidad. But that is where the Indianness stop.

Nobody ever asked the man what he wood was doing inside the maid half he age.