Shamini Flint

Quotes

1. “Sikhs seem to have done quite well in India,” said the inspector provocatively, looking around the gleaming office with its panoramic views of the brown smog hanging over the city.

   “Don’t be fooled,” said Tara. “This is just window dressing. There are Sikh figureheads everywhere including that Manmohan Singh. But if you look deeper, you will see the truth!”

   “And what is that?” asked the inspector.

   “We’re second-class citizens. They deny us our rights in Punjab. What about water rights? What about Chandigarh? What about our language? They attack our places of worship and massacre our citizens ...” Tara Singh was a man who preferred to have the last word. “You foreigners,” he said. “You don’t understand India.”

2. 

   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.

3. 

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

4. 

   “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.”

5. 

   The American stroked a long grey moustache. “They said this is the other economic powerhouse of Asia.” He snorted his derision. “In China things work.”

   “But this is the world’s largest democracy,” protested Singh. “You’re not going to get the same kind of order as China.” The fat man closed his eyes for a moment – he couldn’t believe he was getting defensive about India and sounding like his wife to boot.

   “I don’t think much of the democracy they got over here."

6. 

   “What are you trying to say?”

   “Well, she’s due to get married and she runs away from home…what else is one supposed to think?”

   “Are the Singapore police trained to leap to conclusions, Inspector?”

   Tanvir’s ironic remark was a little too close to the bone. Still, one did have to examine the obvious before indulging in colourful speculation.

   “Embellish your theory, Inspector,” said Tara Singh. His voice was as sharp as the knives with stiletto points that Singh sometimes found embedded in the chests of victims.

7. 

   Singh was always impressed at his wife’s ability to draw large conclusions from infinestimal pieces of evidence. She’d fit right into the Singapore police murder squad.

8. 

   “I’m telling you that I knew Ashu. She was like a daughter to me. There is no way she would have killed herself – and in such a way.”

   “The police seem quite sure,” he replied.

   “The police in India are like a river, Inspector Singh, always taking the path of least resistance.”

   Singh decided to save the metaphor for an occasion when he could use it on Superintendent Chen.

9. 

   His appetite was sharp and the reasons were twofold. One, he’d missed dinner while traipsing around looking at corpses. And two, his wife had elicited the information that breakfast was part of the generous package sponsored by Tara Singh.

10. 

    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.

11. 

    Singh sat in front of a screen glumly, occasionally scrolling down with one grubby finger on a key. He hated computers. He especially hated information presented to him in such an impersonal way. There was no human touch here. Whatever opinions might have been found scribbled in the margins of a hard copy were nowhere to be found online.

12. 

    In each puddle of light, like a morality play, the homeless lay on carefully laid out bits of cardboard or blanket. The ‘new middle class’ of Mumbai, spoken of in hushed tones by economists, stepped over the sleeping forms or skirted around them without breaking stride as they headed for the nearest Starbucks to fulfil their destiny as the engine of Indian economic growth.