Volga Quotes

If they understand that their paativratyam and fidelity are like these sand pots, they will be able to live in peace.'
Sita was confused.
'To make this pot, you need a lot of concentration. Those who did not know this thought I was making a miracle happen by virtue of my chastity, my paativratyam. Since there was no flaw in my character anyway, I let them think what they liked. Concentration can be broken at any time. The cause may be anything. In my case, a man became the cause of distraction. My husband was enraged. He believed that my paativratyam was violated by the mere act of looking at that man. A good pot is a product of many things - practice, concentration, sand, the right amount of water and so on. Sage Jamadagni was a man of great wisdom, yet he did not understand such a simple truth. But such is the wisdom of these spiritual seekers. No matter how much wisdom they earn through penance, they continue to have a dogmatic view on the paativratyam of their wives.'
Sarcasm was evident in Renuka's voice. ~ Volga

But won't creation come to an end if there is no bond of marriage?'
'Why would it come to an end, Sita? Many creatures take birth and grow in this forest. They have no marital bonds, do they? There are people of different tribes whose customs are different from yours.'
'Does that mean human beings should live like animals, uncivilized?'
'Why do you look down upon animals, Sita? We should love animals and nature. We should worship them. We should befriend them. That's the duty of humans. Ignoring that basic duty, you think what is written in books is civilization. Is that right? You have come to the forest from the city. Why insist so much on the civilization of the cities? Isn't nature the best teacher?'
'I don't understand your words. I feel they will cause harm to women.'
'They certainly won't. When a child belongs to its mother, there is no harm in that. A situation where children ask their mother who their father is or where a husband asks his wife who fathered her children comes only in the lives of some women, Sita. Think of the predicament of those women, and you'll understand my words.'
'Just because something happened to someone, somewhere, should people remain without marrying and bear children outside wedlock? Does it happen anywhere? Is that good conduct?' asked Sita resentfully.
'I don't know if it is good conduct or not - I speak of what I know. It is only through experience that one understands the truth. And whatever you unde ~ Volga

The heavy casualties, the constant retreat, the shortage of food and munitions, the difficulty of receiving reinforcements ... all this had a very bad effect on morale. Many longed to get across the Volga, to escape the hell of Stalingrad. ~ Vasily Chuikov

Jealousy, hatred, love, respect - what's the real difference between these feelings? Is there any difference at all or are they merely shades of the same feeling? How does light barge into shadow, and shadow encroach on light? Which is light and which is shadow? ~ Volga

In our relationship, what is it that you like the most?' Sita had asked Rama one day.
'Protecting you like an eyelid protects the eye. If a thorn pierces your foot, I must pluck it out. I must, myself, kill the wild animals that approach you. The thought that I'm protecting you gives me greater pride and pleasure than sovereignty over Ayodhya,' Rama had said.
'I can protect myself. I can match you in archery,' Sita had said, laughing. Rama's face had fallen.
'As long as I am alive, you will never have to protect yourself. Such a situation must never arise. You must look towards me for protection. You must turn to my strong arms for protection. If you take care of yourself, what am I for? Promise me that you will never do that.'
Sita had placed her hand in Rama's.
Abduction. Waiting in Ashoka Vanam - Sita had no alternative. ~ Volga

When I close my eyes to see, to hear, to smell, to touch a country I have known, I feel my body shake and fill with joy as if a beloved person had come near me.

A rabbi was once asked the following question: 'When you say that the Jews should return to Palestine, you mean, surely, the heavenly, the immaterial, the spiritual Palestine, our true homeland?' The rabbi jabbed his staff into the ground in wrath and shouted, 'No! I want the Palestine down here, the one you can touch with your hands, with its stones, its thorns and its mud!'

Neither am I nourished by fleshless, abstract memories. If I expected my mind to distill from a turbid host of bodily joys and bitternesses an immaterial, crystal-clear thought, I would die of hunger. When I close my eyes in order to enjoy a country again, my five senses, the five mouth-filled tentacles of my body, pounce upon it and bring it to me. Colors, fruits, women. The smells of orchards, of filthy narrow alleys, of armpits. Endless snows with blue, glittering reflections. Scorching, wavy deserts of sand shimmering under the hot sun. Tears, cries, songs, distant bells of mules, camels or troikas. The acrid, nauseating stench of some Mongolian cities will never leave my nostrils. And I will eternally hold in my hands – eternally, that is, until my hands rot – the melons of Bukhara, the watermelons of the Volga, the cool, dainty hand of a Japanese girl…

For a time, in my early youth, I struggled to nourish my ~ Nikos Kazantzakis

The snow filled the air with a soft grey-blue mist, softening the wind and gunfire, bringing the earth and sky together into one swaying blur.
The snow fell on Bach's shoulders; it was as though flakes of silence were falling on the still Volga, on the dead city, on the skeletons of horses. It was snowing everywhere, on earth and on the stars; the whole universe was full of snow. Everything was disappearing beneath it: guns, the bodies of the dead, filthy dressings, rubble, scraps of twisted iron.
This soft, white snow settling over the carnage of the city was time itself; the present was turning into the past, and there was no future. ~ Vasily Grossman

Surpanakha, Ahalya, Renuka, Urmila - each one had a story of her own. Each one had followed a path of her own. Her path, her way, was hers alone.
Sita had learnt what she could from their experiences. At first, she felt only disdain and anger for them. Later, when she understood that the anguish in their lives was similar, she felt a camaraderie, a companionship with them. When Sita heard the sufferings of others, she realized that she was not alone. The awareness that she was one of them gave her strength. And it was that strength which enabled her to withstand the disgrace and bear her children, to give them a happy childhood and to train them in all the skills. ~ Volga

Renuka's words had caused aversion in Sita that day. Now she could understand Renuka's pain. The day Rama demanded a trial by fire, the day he sent her away into the forest, Sita remembered the sand pot Renuka had made. Ahalya, Renuka, Sita - they were all victims of mistrust and humiliation. ~ Volga

That there is no truth and untruth. Is that the wisdom you gained?' Sita asked sarcastically.
'Truth does not remain the same forever but keeps changing continuously - that is the wisdom I earned. ~ Volga

Lot of questions came up during that struggle between life and death. Are such bonds, with a husband and sons, necessary for women? I thought they were not, so I moved away from them. I am living with my art. I give the same advice to my students. I don't make a sand pot often. I make it occasionally so that I don't forget the fragile nature of paativratyam.'
'Does a woman have a world other than her husband's? Is there a higher meaning to a woman's life than motherhood? Your experience may have been different. But to preach everyone on the basis of your experience …'
'A woman thinks she doesn't have a world other than that of her husband's. True. But some day that very husband will tell her that there is no place for her in his world. Then what's left for her? She thinks giving birth to sons is the ultimate goal of her life. But those sons become heirs to their father, and even before we realize it, they leave her hands and go under the wing of their father. They submit to his authority. Or they begin to legislate our lives. Why bear such sons? Nobody will experience this as harshly as I have. Having realized this bitter truth, isn't it my responsibility to share it with other women? But you Brahmins give no value for my words anyway. I teach my skills to people of different tribes in this forest and give them the essence of my experience. ~ Volga

Colonization would make of Germany a continental empire fit to rival the United States, another hardy frontier state based upon exterminatory colonialism and slave labor. The East was the Nazi Manifest Destiny. In Hitler's view, "in the East a similar process will repeat itself for a second time as in the conquest of America." As Hitler imagined the future, Germany would deal with the Slavs much as the North Americans had dealt with the Indians. The Volga River in Russia, he once proclaimed, will be Germany's Mississippi.9 ~ Timothy Snyder

The children were pining for their father. They were dreaming about him. Though she had brought them up like they were her very life, though they knew nothing about their father, though their father did not even know about their birth or growing up - they wanted him. Sons needed to grow up inheriting their father's name.
She was Janaki - daughter of Mother Earth. Yet, she became Janaki - daughter of Janaka - under his care. These boys would get recognition only when they were regarded as Rama's offspring. Rama was Dasarathi - 'of Dasaratha' - he was fond of that name, revered it and took pride in it. These children too wanted that kind of acknowledgement. It was indeed the order of the world.
But would that happen? Would Rama embrace these children? Would he give them his name? Would he acknowledge them as descendants of his family? If that did not happen, how these innocent hearts would grieve!
If Rama accepted them as his children and took them to Ayodhya, what would happen to her?
She had left her father who loved her like his own life and taken Rama's hand.
Rama, whom she loved like her own life, had let go of her hand.
These children whom she had brought up, caring for them like her own life - would she be able to hold on to them? Should she even attempt to do that? Would they remain in her grasp even if she did? Would they not run to their father if he called them?
What did she have, other than the disgrace that Rama, bowing to public ~ Volga

Who would hold her hand and guide her through that darkness?
'Am I not here, my girl?' The affectionate words of Mother Earth gave her the strength of a thousand elephants.
Her mother was independent. She would go to her mother. Her mother was omnipotent. So she could take Sita into her embrace. Sita had now seen it all - sons, fathers, sons' obedience to fathers, wives' faithfulness to husbands, motherhood. But there was one thing she had not seen. Nor had Ahalya, Surpanakha or Urmila experienced it. It was what Renuka had faced - the brutality of her own son. She had seen the dharma-bound cruelty of her son who, taking his father's word as the word of the Vedas, was ready to hack her head off. She then realized what the foundation of that cruelty was. How many whirlpools must have stirred in her heart then? And how deep they must have been? In fact, so deep as to challenge Arya Dharma itself. ~ Volga

Think of the future, she whispers. Jumbled images in primary colours. White and red swastika flags waving in the wind; gleaming rockets flying into the air; skyscrapers rise above the Danube, the Thames, the Volga and the Rhine, blond children play under a bright African sun, their uniforms ironed to perfection by their servant-slaves nearby, modern women work at factories assembling Volkswagens, in the mountains in a wood cabin Maria and Erich and their three children go on a skiing holiday, laughing, holding hands… ~ Lavie Tidhar

I got a servant, a nice clean German girl from the Volga. Her village had been devastated - no other word can convey my meaning - by the liquidation of the Kulaks. In the German Volga Republic the peasants, who had been settled there two hundred years before to set an example to the Russians, had been better farmers and so enjoyed a higher standard of life than most peasants in Russia. Consequently, the greater part of them were classified as Kulaks and liquidated.
***
The girls came to the towns to work as servants, and were highly prized, since they were more competent, cleaner, more honest and self-respecting than the Russian peasants. Curiously, they were the most purely Teutonic Germans I had ever seen, Germans like the pictures in Hans Andersen fairy tales, blue-eyed, with long golden plaits and lovely, fair skins. Being Protestants, and regarding the Russians around them as no better than barbarians, they had intermarried little and retained a racial purity which would no doubt have delighted Hitler.
***
My Hilda seemed a treasure. She could cook, she could read and write, she kept herself and the rooms clean and looked like a pink and flaxen doll. I could treat her as an equal without finding that this led to her stealing my clothes and doing no work.
The servant problem in Moscow for Jane and me lay in our inability to bully and curse and drive, which was the only treatment the Russian servant understood. It was quite natural that this should ~ Freda Utley

if you ever have to face the kind of trial I did, do not respond in a predictable manner. Do not allow the situation to force you into mundaneness, into nastiness. Do not let it burn you up in anger, hatred. Save yourself. Assert your right over yourself. Give up your power over others. Then you will belong to yourself. You will be yourself. It's not easy to remain ourselves. ~ Volga

Wide open and unguarded stand our gates, And through them passes a wild motley throng. Men from Volga and Tartar steppes. Featureless figures from the Hoang-ho, Malayan, Scythian, Teuton, Kelt and Slav, Flying the Old World's poverty and scorn; These bringing with them unknown gods and rites, Those tiger passions here to stretch their claws, In street and alley what strange tongues are these, Accents of menace in our ear, Voices that once the Tower of Babel knew. - THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH, "UNGUARDED GATES," 1882 ~ Neil Gaiman

Seeing that I would never manage to fall asleep, I arose, lit a candle, and after dressing went outside.

Beneath the dull glow of the winter moon the snow glowed like pale blue china. The sidewalks sparkled weakly beneath the rays of the flickering street lamps; the benumbed streets slumbered forlornly. I walked, passing one corner after the other, and suddenly found myself on the edge of town. Further, beyond the square, an endless expanse began to glisten with a somber silverness.

I stopped just before the gates. My intent gaze could distinguish nothing in the distant white expanse. Before me rose the imposing bank of the Volga like a gigantic snowdrift. So barren and uninviting was this deserted view resembling eternity that my heart contracted.

I turned to the right and approached quite close to the monastery enclosure. From behind the bronze gates, glimmered a dense net of crosses and gravestones. The ancient eyes of the church gazed forbiddingly down on me, and with an eerie feeling I thought of the monks sleeping at this moment in tomb-like cells together with corpses. Were any of them thinking of the hour of death on this night?

("Lamia") ~ Boris Sadovskoy

Do women exist only to be used by men to settle their scores? ~ Volga

Lava and Kusa returned and were dejected to find the ashram empty. They now knew the whole story about their mother.
They charged up to Valmiki, to ask about her.
Valmiki told them what Sita had said.
For the first time, they were angry with their mother.
How nice it would have been had she come to the court once and proved her innocence as their father desired! It would have been so good for them. A thin flame burned in their young hearts.
They were not little boys growing up in an ashram any more. They were Aryan heirs, princes, future kings. Sita, on the other hand, was the daughter of Mother Earth. Would she ever be understood? ~ Volga

When I began, it was, indeed, wrath. But gradually it turned into a quest for truth - within me and with myself. Why so much fury - fury that consumed me - fury that wanted to burn everyone? Why this anguish? I knew the cause. But a longing to delve deeper into that cause was born in me without my noticing it. What is anger? What is sorrow? What is joy? What is the relation between my body and these feelings and emotions that I experience? Many such questions - they engulfed me. I began to observe my body, my thoughts, and the emotions they triggered within me. Any distraction to this process annoyed me. That's why I desired solitude. Not loneliness, solitude. The solitude in which I could converse within and with myself. ~ Volga

The street is no longer measured by meters but by corpses ... Stalingrad is no longer a town. By day it is an enormous cloud of burning, blinding smoke; it is a vast furnace lit by the reflection of the flames. And when night arrives, one of those scorching howling bleeding nights, the dogs plunge into the Volga and swim desperately to gain the other bank. The nights of Stalingrad are a terror for them. Animals flee this hell; the hardest stones cannot bear it for long; only men endure. ~ Max Hastings