4 Quotes by Poile Sengupta

And so, here is Rapa’s book, my tribute to her, my one true friend, my love.

Nor will I ever find that walled garden where the hibiscus blows, with sweet musk roses and eglantine. Where stamens of rain fall on warm, white breasts.

In the involved and complicated business of politics, it is difficult to say who the puppeteer is and who the puppet, particularly when one is often both...

Begat! What a satisfying word it is! It scorns. It despises. It spits. Summarily it dismisses all that bleating nonsense about love and romance, moonlight and motherhood.