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.

If only a man could spit his past out so easily.

The story of a poor man's life is written on his body, in a sharp pen.

A man's past keeps growing, even when his future has come to a full stop.

You can't expect a man in a dung heap to smell sweet.