Sycophantic little tosser, thought Singh, protecting his inheritance with a bit of brown-nosing. He looked at Tara Singh. Weren’t these big-time indu… - Shamini Flint

A shudder ran through the stout frame of the policeman. He tried to remember if he’d ever seen a rat in Singapore. A few scrawny squirrels that looked a lot like rats and the occasional garden shrew – that was the sum of rodent life in his recent past. Inspector Singh, who prided himself on his familiarity with the dark fringes of society, realised that he’d been fooling himself. His Singaporean version was the Disney equivalent of the seedy side of life.

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

“Eighty per cent of doctors in the United States are of Indian origin,” snapped Mrs. Singh, looking up from the computer for a moment to ensure that he was paying attention. “That can’t possibly be right,” protested Singh. “It says so right here,” said his wife, pointing a bony finger at the screen and basking in the blue light like an acolyte before a high priest. “Not everything you read on the Internet is true,” muttered Singh, addressing his remark to the skinny back in the flamboyant pink caftan.