Nefa and I
|Publisher:||SAHITYA AKADEMI, DELHI|
|Other Details||8.50x5.50 inch|
Look at my present today: My faculties have become feeble-almost inert-I have lost my hearing, eyes have become dim, my mind incapable of thinking, my arms and legs almost motionless.
And the future: I wait for the end, my feeble heartbeats the only sign of life. When the spring of life has dried up, when the pleasures of life have turned dull, the only thing that sustains a little life is remembrances of the past and the remembrances, ironically enough, seem to light up what remains of the path to the end.
The past-who says the past is dead and gone? The past is real. It is memories of events past and of the dead who were close to me that give me the strength to write the following pages-my failing faculty notwithstanding.
In my youth, I never had the thought that the past is the only reality. It is the past that keeps one alive till one's last breath, gives one the sense of who one is. I am who I am because of my past. As long as I have a sense of who I am, my past cannot be parcelled out and put away. Of Course my memories are scattered in some disarray in the Homain of the past.
**Contents and Sample Pages**
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