" Hello Doctor this is my daughter who is homeschooled. She's pretty nasty. She was awful today at the races. But I was pretty awful too. We gave everybody a good kicking.
I spent my life doing ridiculous things. I produced a baby. Her.
And that boy with dirty clothes and a dirty catheter and I sat for hours in the dirty river.
I feel I am surrounded by eunuchs. Am I?
Music...what's wrong with it? I just can't remember anymore.
Listen to that...it's oxygen. Bubbling to its death. I am running out of oxygen. But I don't care whether I'm running out or running in.
I want to sleep. I'd love to die. Wrap my feet in warm water.
I'd like to go to sleep. I'm not asking for permission.
It's like hpsf hpsf hpsf...CUK! CUK! CUK!
This is my engine.
When you die you can hook on to a cloud and we can have all your information. Then they give you your bill.
WHERE'S MY MONEY?
The arterial port is Jesus Christ's screw. It doesn't hurt.
I'm just a wee mannequin.
I like my bum. I don't know why Dr Verghese wants to cut it out of the picture. "
― Arundhati Roy , The Ministry of Utmost Happiness