欧宝娱乐

“After everything is said and done, a memory remains a treacherous thing鈥ow long does one cling on to the people they鈥檝e lost? How long could I have remembered my grandfather? How long had it been since I forgotten him and my mind began harbouring other things?”
― Kanza Javed, Ashes, Wine and Dust

“We should have realized it sooner, at least my father should have, that there was no coming back. Not in September when the riots died down, not in October when the subcontinent still lay in shock, not even in November as he had hoped and promised us. Lahore was now lost forever”
― Aanchal Malhotra, Remnants of a Separation: A History of the Partition through Material Memory

“[Taken from a BBC documentary]

Tariq was born in Lahore, now in Pakistan, then part of British-ruled India, in 1943. A Catholic school education did nothing to shake his life-long atheism, which he shared with his communist parents.”
― Tariq Ali

“Lahore, the second largest city of Pakistan, ancient capital of the Punjab, home to nearly as many people as New York, layered like a sedimentary plain with the accreted history of invaders from the Aryans to the Mongols to the British.”
― Mohsin Hamid, The Reluctant Fundamentalist

“There are all the hidden menaces of long journeys on the way.
But we shall go.
Treat it as exile or a new beginning.”
― Osama Siddique, Snuffing out the Moon

“Welcome to Lahore, ma鈥檃m!鈥� 卯mi spuse 卯nc膬 o dat膬 卯n timp ce cobor芒sem 卯n mul葲ime. Oprisem 卯n fa葲a restaurantului, iar o alt膬 mare de oameni, g芒nduri 葯i emo葲ii m膬 a葯tepta s膬 卯ncep o nou膬 aventur膬. Am comandat biryani 葯i paratha iar 卯n a葯teptarea lor 卯mi ascultam g芒ndurile cum 卯mi vorbeau, printre zumzetele unor mu葯te prietenoase ce 卯葯i traficau firimiturile c膬zute printre mese. Un tablou 卯n care toate nuan葲ele purtau c膬ldur膬 葯i comfort. Probabil c膬 lec葲ii interesante de via葲膬 musteau printre cr膬p膬turile secundelor, 卯ntr-o lume cu totul nou膬 pentru mine, 卯n care am 卯n葲eles pentru prima oar膬 c膬 universalitatea cuprinde mult mai multe nuan葲e 卯n paleta-i, dec芒t cele pe care le priveam dintr-o rutin膬 molcom膬 卯n spa葲iul meu mioritic. 葮i da, un aha moment m-a f膬cut s膬 卯n葲eleg c膬 oric芒t de greu 葯i 卯ntortocheat poate p膬rea drumul 卯n via葲膬, se vor ivi 卯ntotdeauna porti葲e pe buc膬葲ile de drum despletite 卯ntre curgeri de mi葯care. 葮i c膬 legea nativului din noi str膬luce葯te uneori deasupra oric膬ror reguli impuse de societate; are nevoie doar s膬-i d膬m voie s膬 se exprime鈥� 卯n trafic鈥� Mi葯care 卯ntr-o structur膬 perfect construit膬.”
― Simona Prilogan, Ochi de Poveste

“Lahore was a different world in its own; the busy life, the rich history, the colourful culture, and the unfamiliar faces”
― Javaria Waseem, In the Shadows of Light at Night

“When I wake, it seems a little less hot than usual, so I鈥檓 worried I have a fever until light flashes behind the curtains and the sound of a detonation rolls in with a force that makes the windows rattle. As I step outside with a plastic bag over my cast, a stiff breeze pulls my hair away from my face, and I see the pregnant clouds of the monsoon hanging low over the city.
The rains have finally decided to come.
I sit down on the lawn, resting my back against the wall of the house, and light an aitch I鈥檝e waited a long time to smoke. Suddenly the air is still and the trees are silent, and I can hear laughter from my neighbor鈥檚 servant quarters. A bicycle bell sounds in the street, reminding me of the green Sohrab I had as a child. Then the wind returns, bringing the smell of wet soil and a pair of orange parrots that swoop down to take shelter in the lower branches of the banyan tree, where they glow in the shadows.”
― Mohsin Hamid, Moth Smoke

“Lightning鈥檚 echo comes as thunder. And the city waits for thunder鈥檚 echo, for a wall of heat that burns Lahore with the energy of a thousand summers, a million partitions, a billion atomic souls split in half.”
― Mohsin Hamid, Moth Smoke

“Once a Lahori, always a Lahori”
― Rafia Shujaat, Desi Flavors

“啶� 啶侧啶︵ 啶侧ぞ啶灌啶� 啶︵ 啶�
啶溹た啶� 啶灌た啶膏ぞ啶� 啶ㄠぞ 啶灌啶膏う啷€ 啶�
啶� 啶侧啶︵ 啶啶溹ぞ啶� 啶︵ 啶�
啶溹た啶� 啶灌た啶膏ぞ啶� 啶ㄠぞ鈥� 啶む啶︵ 啶�

啶� 啶侧啶︵ 啶侧ぞ啶灌啶� 啶︵ 啶�
啶溹た啶� 啶灌た啶膏ぞ啶� 啶ㄠぞ鈥� 啶灌啶膏う啷€ 啶�
啶曕啷溹 啶∴ぞ 啶い啶� 啶曕ぐ啷�
啶曕啶灌啷� 啶た啶傕ぁ 啶︵ 啶�
啶曕啶灌啷� 啶多す啶� 啶︵ 啶�”
― Lahore Lyrics in Hindi

“If one had asked Manucci during his days as a street urchin, as he sat, in defiance of municipal orders, astride the gun Zam-Zammah, Manucci would probably have said that ACs were hot. The first time he saw one jutting out into the street from the wall of a shop in the old city, he walked up to the noisy box and was amazed at the blast of hot air it sent straight into his face. Why do people turn on hot air in the middle of summer? he often wondered.”
― Mohsin Hamid, Moth Smoke

“A raindrop strikes the lawn, sending up a tiny plume of dust. Others follow, a barrage of dusty explosions bursting all around me. The leaves of the banyan tree rebound from their impact. The parrots disappear from sight. In the distance, the clouds seem to reach down to touch the earth. And then a curtain of water falls quietly and shatters across the city with a terrifying roar, drenching me instantly. I hear the hot concrete of the driveway hissing, turning rain back into steam, and I smell the dead grass that lies under the dirt of the lawn.
I fill my mouth with water, gritty at first, then pure and clean, and roll into a ball with my face pressed against my knees, sucking on a hailstone, shivering as wet cloth sticks to my body. Heavy drops beat their beat on my back and I rock slowly, my thoughts silenced by the violence of the storm, gasping in the sudden, unexpected cold.”
― Mohsin Hamid, Moth Smoke

“The bathing boys abandoned their frolicking and gathered in a horde around the singing man. Nobody made a sound. Their heads swayed gently in tune. Even Malik sahib and the fruit seller looked enchanted. The mysterious contours of his voice in the mellow, orange twilight were like the sound of nature, the call of beauty. And the road water, though the filthiest in Lahore, mimicked the red blush of Heer's cheeks which, the player revealed, "were scented like a rare flower on a spring morning."
-- The Player”
― Sarim Baig, Saints and Charlatans

“讴賵卅蹖 賵賯鬲 鬲诰丕 讴蹃 蹃乇 賲賵爻賲 丕蹖爻蹝 丕倬賳蹖 丌賲丿 讴丕 丕毓賱丕賳 讴乇鬲丕 鬲诰丕貙 噩蹖爻蹝 讴賵卅蹖 倬購乇丕賳蹖 丕賵乇 賲蹃匕亘 賲毓丕卮乇鬲 讴丕 毓賱賲亘乇丿丕乇 賲爻丕賮乇 賮氐蹖賱 卮蹃乇 讴蹝 亘丕蹃乇蹖 亘賱賳丿 丿乇賵丕夭蹝 讴蹝 爻丕賲賳蹝 讴诰趹丕 卮爻購鬲蹃 賱蹃噩蹝 賲蹖诤 丕賳丿乇 丌賳蹝 讴蹖 丕噩丕夭鬲 賲丕賳诏蹝蹟 賮氐蹖賱 卮蹃乇 爻蹝 噩亘 賲丨丕賮馗 賳蹖趩蹝 噩诰丕賳讴賳蹖诤 鬲賵 丕賳诰蹖诤 丕蹖讴 禺賵卮 倬賵卮丕讴 丕賵乇 賲毓鬲亘乇 蹃爻鬲蹖 賳馗乇 丌卅蹝蹟 噩爻 讴蹝 丕賳丿丕夭貙 賱亘丕爻貙 丕爻賱賵亘 丕賵乇 賲禺鬲氐乇 賲诏乇 賳賮蹖爻 夭丕丿賽乇丕蹃 爻蹝 丕爻 讴蹖 匕丕鬲 賲蹖诤 賲囟賲乇 讴卅蹖 氐丿蹖賵诤 讴蹖 鬲賲丿賳蹖 丕賵乇 丕禺賱丕賯蹖 乇毓賳丕卅蹖 俟倬讴鬲蹖 蹃賵蹟
讴趩诰 丕爻 胤乇丨 丌鬲蹝 鬲诰蹝 讴亘诰蹖 賲賵爻賲 賲蹖乇蹝 丕爻 卮蹃乇 賲蹖诤蹟”
― Osama Siddique, Ghuroob e Shehr Ka Waqt 睾乇賵亘賽 卮蹃乇 讴丕 賵賯鬲

“The best investment you can make is in yourself鈥攌eep learning, keep growing. A short course in Lahore after intermediate can be the first step toward your”
― Anonymousus