A Quote by Pankaj Kapur

'Mausam' is about seasons of love and not exactly about the weather. — © Pankaj Kapur
'Mausam' is about seasons of love and not exactly about the weather.
The best thing about a British winter is the cold weather, real fires, frosty mornings. I love living somewhere that has proper seasons.
That's a lot of words about the weather, but in Canberra you can't help but be aware of the seasons, and there is something wonderful about that. Okay, so there's a distinct lack of beach, but aside from that, the place grows on you.
At about the age of seven … I wrote exactly the kinds of stories I was reading: All my characters were white and blue-eyed, they played in the snow, they ate apples, and they talked a lot about the weather: how lovely it was that the sun had come out. This despite the fact that I lived in Nigeria; we didn’t have snow, we ate mangoes, and we never talked about the weather, because there was no need to.
Weather is real. It is absolutely real: when it rains, it rains – you get wet, there is no question about it. It is also true about weather that you can’t control it; you can’t say if I wish hard enough it won’t rain. It is equally true that if the weather is bad one day it will get better and what I had to learn was to treat my moods like the weather.
I learned to stop being English about things like love. If you make a film in England about love, it's hugely complicated. It's all about saying what the weather is like, and you're secretly telling someone you love them. You know what the English are like; they're very repressed people. You don't get that in India. India is incredibly un-cynical about love. It's a not a complicated thing. It's me, you, love. Let's go.
I think six seasons are telling us one thing about 'Game of Thrones': Everyone should watch their back. No one is safe. That's what I love about the show. I love that it's so unpredictable.
I get homesick for snow and for winter and for seasons and, really, for weather patterns. But L.A. has some of the best weather, so who can complain when it's 80 degrees and sunny?
People lie. They use you and they lie, all the while feeding you bullshit about being loyal and never leaving you. No one can make that promise, because life is all about seasons, and seasons change.
The prominence of the market I guess is important to some people. For me, it was less about the number and more about the opportunities that might open up in that market. One of the questions I wanted to know about that next job was, what's your weather like? I am into the weather!
People speak because they are afraid of silence. They speak mechanically whether aloud or to themselves. They are intoxicated by this vocal gruel that ensnares every object and every being. They talk about rain and fine weather; they talk about money, about love, about nothing. And even when they are talking about their most exalted love, they use words uttered a hundred times, threadbare phrases.
Cycling is a great way to learn about your city. I love being outdoors, especially in good weather, but I'm not a fair weather cyclist. I'm happy to get a red nose in the cold.
I'm a five-seasons griller! Did you know I added a new season? Living in Cali, I'm cooking in the yard all the time. I don't care what the weather is like. My hair is impervious to any kind of dampness, so I don't have too much to worry about.
'Love, Death and the Changing of the Seasons' is a kind of novel in verse about the arc of an urban lesbian love affair - and I suppose there is a certain amount of voyeurism in the consumption of fiction! The 'Sancerre' poems here are more contemplative and about the relationship of the individual to local and wider histories.
Complaining about the weather seems to be a favorite American pastime. Sadly, we Christians often get caught up in this ungodly habit in our society. But when we complain about the weather, we are actually complaining against God who sent us our weather. We are, in fact, sinning against God.
Life is about seasons, and I think you got to know the seasons.
Grandmother walked up over the bare granite and thought about birds in general. It seemed to her no other creature had the same dramatic capacity to underline and perfect events - the shifts in the seasons and the weather, the changes that run through people themselves.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!