A Journey Once Begun, Has No End

The Present Changes The Past. Looking Back You Do Not Find What You Left Behind.

I Do Think That The Modern India Does Belong To Writers Who Are Living In India.

We Think Of Immigration As A Western Issue But, Of Course, It Isn't.

When He Died, I Went About Like A Ragged Crow Telling Strangers, "my Father Died, My Father Died." My Indiscretion Embarrassed Me, But I Could Not Help It. Without My Father On His Delhi Rooftop, Why Was I Here? Without Him There, Why Should I Go Back? Without That Ache Between Us, What Was I Made Of?

I Don't Think You Can Write According To A Set Of Rules And Laws; Every Writer Is So Different.