I've always prided myself on my discipline as a writer. I do it like a job. I get up in the morning and go to my desk.
Throughout human history, the apostles of purity, those who have claimed to possess a total explanation, have wrought havoc among mere mixed-up human beings.
Rock and roll music - the music of freedom frightens people and unleashes all manner of conservative defense mechanisms.
So-called Islamic 'fundamentalism' does not spring, in Pakistan, from the people. It is imposed on them from above. Autocratic regimes find it useful to espouse the rhetoric of faith, because people r...
I do think of Bombay as my hometown. Those are the streets I walked when I was learning to walk. And it's the place that my imagination has returned to more than anywhere else.
Women have always moaned about men...but it turns out that their deepest complaints are reserved for one another, because while they expect men to be fickle, treacherous, and weak, they judge their ow...
The idea of the sacred is quite simply one of the most conservative notions in any culture, because it seeks to turn other ideas - uncertainty, progress, change - into crimes.
Human beings do not perceive things whole; we are not gods but wounded creatures, cracked lenses, capable only of fractured perceptions
Tragedy happens - tragic mistakes happen - when men act according to their flawed natures, in fulfillment of their preordained destinies. The tragedy of the four killers of Amadou Diallo is that their...
The fact of being alive compensated for what life did to one.
The enemy is stupid, he replied. That is ground for hope. There is no originality in tyrants, and they learn nothing from the demise of their precursors. They will be brutal and stifling and engender...
The black ice of that dark fortress received the sunlight like a mortal wound.
Reality is a question of perspective; the further you get from the past, the more concrete and plausible it seems - but as you approach the present, it inevitably seems more and more incredible. Suppo...
My heart broke open and history fell in.
India, the new myth--a collective fiction in which anything was possible, a fable rivalled only by the two other mighty fantasies: money and God.
Honesty is not the best policy in life. Only, perhaps, in art.
But sixteen years without optimism had taken a heavy toll;
All names mean something.
A man who catches History's eye is thereafter bound to a mistress from whom he will never escape.
We all owe death a life.