The TV channels never ran out of sponsorship for their live telecasts of despair. They never ran out of despair. (p103) - Arundhati Roy

'Ammu,' Chacko said, his voice steady and deliberately casual, 'is it at all possible for you to prevent your washed-up cynicism from completely colouring everything?'
Silence filled the car like a saturated sponge. Washed-up cut like a knife through a small thing. The sun shone with a shuddering sigh. This was the trouble with families. Like invidious doctors, they knew just where it hurt.

Change is one thing. Acceptance is another.

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