Just a few years ago India, Pakistan and Bangladesh were one country. Actually, we were many countries if you count the princely states.... Then the British drew a line, and now we're three countries, two of them pointing nukes at each other - the radical Hindu bomb and the radical Muslim bomb.

Some things come with their own punishments.

And there it was again. Another religion turned against itself. Another edifice constructed by the human mind, decimated by human nature.

Going to Oxford didn't necessarily make a person clever.

It was a grand old house, the Ayemenem House, but aloof-looking. As though it had little to do with the people who lived in it. Like an old man with rheumy eyes watching children play, seeing only transience in their shrill elation and their whole-hearted commitment to life.

The writer is the midwife of understanding.

Acceptance spells death to a writer.