Shamini Flint Quotes

That was probably the most truthful thing that Tanvir had said to him yet. Wherever one was in the world, it seemed that it was difficult to bring the rich and powerful to book. It was enough to turn anyone into a communist – as long as it didn’t mean he had to share his cigarettes and beer.

He didn’t bother to answer his wife and opened the newspaper instead. There was a cholera outbreak in the slums, more nuclear sabre-rattling from the governments of India and Pakistan and a riot because a Bollywood film had gone too far. Apparently, Indian morals were being compromised. Singh smiled happily. They just didn’t make the newspapers like this in Singapore.

“Indian police not at all good at keeping secrets.” “The press doesn’t seem to know that it’s murder,” said Singh reassuringly.

Singh could not help but think that, in a hospital, the proximity of death was best disguised — and the actual dead hidden. It was not conducive to the right frame of mind for recovery to have the morgue signposted for patients. It would be the medical equivalent of 'Abandon hope all ye who enter here'.

The gods were fighting over her children but she could not seek the help of any of them. And she had so much choice. She had grown up a Buddhist, her ex-husband was alleged a Moslem when he died, her own sister was a Christian - so many options for salvation. [...] Chelsea would have settled for solace through prayer. But she did not believe that there was an invisible hand behind the farce that was her life's play. At the very least she did not believe in a benevolent God. [...] Surely it was better to lay the blame for the machinations of fate at the door of chance?

The apartment building was tall and modern and would not have looked out of place in Singapore. In Singh’s view, it was extremely dull. “I thought that these rich Indians lived in mansions with one lot of stairs going up and another coming down and dancing girls everywhere?” “You watch too much TV.”

It seemed, pondered the inspector, that no sooner did you give a man a car than he wanted to drive somewhere and do something.

Don't know about police methods in the United States," remarked Singh, "but where I come from a person last seen having an argument with someone who later turns up dead goes straight to the top of the list of suspects.

So your certainty that Ashu was murdered by her family despite the absence of any evidence is based on your certainty that they were behind the assault on you for which you don't have any evidence either?"
Sameer was undaunted by the sarcasm. "It's your job to find evidence, Singh. I've just made it easy for you by identifying the murderers.

[S]o many languages were spoken in Malaysia that quite often the wheels of justice ground to a standstill for the lack of an interpreter who could restore the tower of babel to a court of law.

Her life had all the ingredients of a Bollywood movie except the happy ending.

“How’s the investigation going – any light at the end of the tunnel?” “Of an oncoming train.”

Why do you buy [shoddy goods] if you think the quality is so poor?

If publicity was the lifeblood of terrorists, the week-long siege of the hotel had been a massive transfusion.

Mrs. Singh finally hove into view. “About bloody time,” he muttered. “These fellows have been trying to take our passports, our bags, our trolley – they’d have walked off with me balanced on their heads if you’d taken any longer.”
“Strong but not that strong,” remarked Mrs. Singh, leading the way to the taxi rank.