Manil Suri Quotes

Maybe it was the novels I read - the racier Mills & Boon romances of late, Danielle Steel instructing me on international sex and sin.

Sarita's been so busy exercising her brain that she hasn't had time for her heart, the poor thing.

God knows nothing gets accomplished in the world these days without terrorism.

What will happen to the flowers, now that you are gone? The earth that clings to the steps, the tulsi that begins to sprout. The colors that brighten the darkness of the stairs, the scents that perfume the air. Must I climb alone the petal-strewn trail of your descent?

Samson had his Delilah, Adam his Eve, and the Jazter had you.
Already, I can see my epitaph. Here lies Jaz, lover of his fellow men, done in royally by one of them.

It's the eternal tragedy of being gay in Bombay," I lamented. "Never a place to yourself." With city rents so high, most sons lived with their parents until marriage - and usually well after as well.

The future, as always, felt too abstract to worry about, too nebulous, too otherworldly. What mattered was the here and now.

I made sure we fucked whenever the conversations got too emotional or too long - we weren't lesbians, after all.

What did religion do to people, to provoke such obstinancy, such hysteria - how did it push people to the stage of torturing themselves and killing each other?

Hadn't another wise man, the Buddha himself, warned about the evils of attachment?

You can scream you're Indian, you can disavow your religion, you can even be the next incarnation of Krishna for all your Hindu countrymen will care. Their HRM will pull down your pants and check your foreskin and slaughter you just the same.

What future did the Jazter see for himself, exactly? Would his days of shikar continue indefinitely, or did he dare look beyond the beaches and the train stations and the alleys? Could he, in some part buried deep within, secretly crave conventionality? (Or was that too much of a heresy?)

In mathematics, in place of characters, you have variables or unknowns. If I'm trying to plot a theorem, I try to imagine these variables interacting with each other. The boundary of their interaction is the theorem.

Perhaps this was the greatest genius of the cyber jihadis: the monopoly they clinched on information. They realized how helplessly addicted the population had become to knowing in this information age. So what if news was tainted or unreliable? - people needed their daily fix.

They used Akbar's principles to formulate a version of Islam that could peacefully co-exist with other religions (or so they claimed). An Emperor's Bequest to Islam, their joint 1,300-page doorstopper, spent twenty weeks on the New York Times bestseller list in hardcover alone. The fact that they remained practicing Muslims (albeit the liberal, wine-guzzling kind) put their message in high international demand.

was it they who were flawed, or was it he?