Greenwich Village always had its share of mind readers, but there are many more these days, and they seem to have moved closer to the mainstream of life in the city. What was crazy 10 years ago is now respectable, even among the best-educated New Yorkers.— Aravind Adiga
The most delightful Aravind Adiga quotes that are glad to read
Nothing gives us greater pride than the importance of India's scientific and engineering colleges, or the army of Indian scientists at organizations such as Microsoft and NASA. Our temples are not the god-encrusted shrines of Varanasi, but Western scientific institutions like Caltech and MIT, and magazines like 'Nature' and 'Scientific American.
With their tinted windows up, the cars of the rich go like dark eggs down the roads of Delhi. Every now and then an egg will crack open a woman's hand, dazzling with gold bangles, stretches out an open window, flings an empty mineral water bottle onto the road and then the window goes up, and the egg is resealed.
The moment you recognize what is beautiful in this world, you stop being a slave
Columbia University, where I went to study in 1993, insisted its undergraduates learn a foreign language, so I discovered French.
Indians mock their corrupt politicians relentlessly, but they regard their honest politicians with silent suspicion. The first thing they do when they hear of a supposedly 'clean' politician is to grin. It is a cliche that honest politicians in India tend to have dishonest sons, who collect money from people seeking an audience with Dad.
We are made mysteries to ourselves by the Rooster Coop we are locked in.
The story of a poor man's life is written on his body, in a sharp pen.
See, the poor dream all their lives of getting enough to eat and looking like the rich. And what do the rich dream of?? Losing weight and looking like the poor.
At a time when India is going through great changes and, with China, is likely to inherit the world from the west, it is important that writers like me try to highlight the brutal injustices of society.
Neither you nor I speak English, but there are some things that can be said only in English.
When I was growing up in the south Indian city of Madras, there were only two political parties that mattered; one was run by a former matinee idol, and the other was run by his former screenwriter.
Do we loathe our masters behind a facade of love - or do we love them behind a facade of loathing?
In India, it's the rich who have problems with obesity.
And the poor are darker-skinned because they work outside and often work without their tops on so you can see their ribs.
I grew up, as many Indians do, in an archipelago of tongues.
My maternal grandfather, who was a surgeon in the city of Madras, was fluent in at least four languages and used each of them daily.
Strange thoughts brew in your heart when you spend too much time with old books
Having plenty of living space has to be the greatest luxury in a city, and I guess in some sense Bombay is the antithesis of what living in Canada must be.
Too much of Indian writing in English, it seemed to me, consisted of middle-class people writing about other middle-class people - and a small slice of life being passed off as an authentic portrait of the country.
Inconvenience in progress, work is regretted.
India's great economic boom, the arrival of the Internet and outsourcing, have broken the wall between provincial India and the world.
In a sense, being a full-time writer is less fun because there's no office to go to anymore, there's no set routine, there's no schedule. It can be quite isolating.
Do you know about Hanuman, sir? He was the faithful servant of the god Rama, and we worship him in our temples because he is a shining example of how to serve your masters with absolute fidelity, love, and devotion. These are the kinds of gods they have foisted on us Mr. Jiabao. Understand, now, how hard it is for a man to win his freedom in India.
Neither. I am just one who has woken up while the rest of you are still sleeping.
...the future of the world lies with the yellow man and the brown man now that our erstwhile master, the white-skinned man, has wasted himself through buggery, cell phone usage, and drug abuse
It has always been very difficult for writers to survive commercially in India because the market was so small. But that's not true at all any more. It's one of the world's fastest growing and most vibrant markets for books, especially in English.
The book of your revolution sits in the pit of your belly, young Indian.
Crap it out, and read. Instead of which, they're all sitting in front of color TVs and watching cricket and shampoo advertisements.
Go to Old Delhi,and look at the way they keep chickens there in the market.
Hundred of pale hens and brightly colored roosters, stuffed tightly into wire-mesh cages. They see the organs of their brothers lying around them.They know they are next, yet they cannot rebel. They do not try to get out of the coop. The very same thing is done with humans in this country.
What keeps India safe really is the heroism of millions of poor Indians who every day reject the allure of terrorism. What keeps India safe is just the courage of poor Indians, not the actions of its government.
If only a man could spit his past out so easily.
I’ve lived in several countries and been a disaster everywhere.
In terms of formal education, I may somewhat lacking.
I never finished school. I am a self-taught entrepreneur, that's the best kind there is, trust me
But isn't it likely that everyone in this world.
..has killed someone or other on their way to the top?...All I wanted was a chance to be a man--and for that, one murder is enough.
Every book is a kind of struggle, and it's a miracle when it comes out.
Here's a strange fact: murder a man, and you feel responsible for his life - ''possessive'', even. You know more about him than his father and mother; they knew his fetus, but you know his corpse. Only you can complete the story of his life, only you know why his body has to be pushed into the fire before its time, and why his toes curl up and fight for another hour on earth.
You can't expect a man in a dung heap to smell sweet.
I am coming back to New York after five years, and it seems that psychics are taking over the city.
Never before in human history have so few owed so much to so many, Mr.
Jiabao. A handful of men in this country have trained the remaining 99.9 percent—as strong, as talented, as inteligent in every way—to exist in perpetual servitude; a servitude so strong that you can put the key of his emancipation in a man's hands and he will throw it back at you with a curse.
Nothing can stop a living thing that wants to be free
Like most of my friends in school, I was a member of multiple circulating libraries; and all of us, to begin with, borrowed and read the same things.
Because in this world, there is a line: on one side are the men who cannot get things done, and on the other side are the men who can. And not one in a hundred will cross that line. Will you?
A man's past keeps growing, even when his future has come to a full stop.
You ask 'Are you a man or a demon?' Neither, I say.
I have woken up, and the rest of you are sleeping, and that is the only difference between us.
The trustworthiness of servants is the basis of the entire Indian economy.
Let animals live like animals; let humans live like humans. That's my whole philosophy in a sentence.
It's amazing. The moment you show cash, everyone knows your language.
I was looking for the key for years But the door was always open
Like most people who live in India, I complain about corruption, but know that I can live with corrupt men. It is the honest ones I secretly worry about.
In my family, as in most middle-class Indian families I knew when I was growing up, science and mathematics were held in awe.
An honest politician has no goodies to toss around.
This limits his effectiveness profoundly, because political power in India is dispersed throughout a multi-tiered federal structure; a local official who has not been paid off can sometimes stop a billion-dollar project.
I had grown up in a privileged, upper-caste Hindu community;
and because my father worked for a Catholic hospital, we lived in a prosperous Christian neighborhood.