Quotes from Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

Sarojini admits he has a point; girls have to be toughened so they can survive a world that presses harder on women, and surely Bimal does a good job of that. But deep in a hidden place inside her that is stubborn as a mudfish, Sarojini knows she is right, too. Being loved a little more than necessary arms a girl in a different way.

Just as we cast off worn clothes and wear new ones, when the time arrives, the soul casts off the body and finds a new one to work out its karma. Therefore the wise grieve neither for the living nor the dead. I

Looking down from the heights of Maslow's pyramid, it seems inconceivable to us that someone could actually prefer bread to freedom.

The laws of karma were complicated, and ultimately, one never escaped them.

Why was it that our holy men who made a big deal of giving up so many things—comfort, fame, family—couldn't seem to give up their tempers?

Nabakumar sighs. 'Ma,' he says. Then he is gone.

The year is 1947. It is the best of times, it is the worst of times.

Maybe it was that sense that comes to us all at some point in the growing-up process, that we are separate from our parents and must suffer our own lives, with our own sorrows. Or maybe it was something simpler, a childish spite, Let her hurt like I'm hurting. And then the light changed and she started driving again.

The force of a person's believing seeps into those around him— into the very earth and air and water—until there's nothing else.

Ram: monarch, father, warrior, husband. The beloved who abandoned me when I needed him most. My greatest joy and my greatest despair.

I took the garland for myself, determined to do on my own what no man dared do for me. Remember that, little sister: wait for a man to avenge your honor, and you'll wait forever.

Truly love is the strongest intoxicant of them all, the drink of deepest oblivion. Else how could I have forgiven him so quickly for what he'd done? No. Love is the spade with which we bury, deep inside our being, the things that we cannot bear to remember, cannot bear anyone else to know. But some of them remain. And they rise to the surface when we least expect them.

That's love—golden ropes that bind you and pull you in different directions.

The shock I'd felt, standing in the doorway, was a terrible thing. But what was worse was that in a moment it was gone, as though all along a part of me had known that this was where I was headed. That I, too, hadn't been worth a man's faithful loving.

Each word she'd set down in the journals was a gift and a wound.

Yes, I've learned a few things along the way, though now that I'm neither man nor woman they can't do me any good. But here's one that may be of use to you: the power of a man is like a bull's charge, while the power of a woman moves aslant, like a serpent seeking its prey. Know the particular properties of your power. Unless you use it correctly, it won't get you what you want.

Lav and Kush must have conspired and taken the manuscript from our hut when I was busy elsewhere. They must have practised singing it in secret. They must have decided to perform it in my honour, risking the anger of their guru as well as their new-found father to tell the world my story.

Wisdom that isn't distilled in our own crucible can't help

Mostly their troubles were minor ones, for they followed a healthy lifestyle, waking at sunrise to bathe in the river, then spending long hours in study or prayer, followed by daily chores, simple meals, storytelling

People get addicted to love. Or just to having someone around. So many times Mr. Mehta gave me grief. I had to get his permission for every little thing: read a book, go to the cinema, even phone my parents. A lot of times he'd say no just because he could. Yet when he died, I wept and wept.

All things in this world change and pass away— some after many years, some overnight.

To see awe in a parent's eyes—it is a strange, lonely feeling.

A problem is a problem only if you believe it to be so.

That's Hercules," I say, though perhaps I'm pointing at Ursa Major. I tell Mrs. Mehta of his death at the hands of his wife, who suspected him of loving another woman.