“I wonder what a paradox is,” remarked the priest in a ruminant manner.

The polluted canal and the foetid, rat-ridden garbage become forceful symbols of a society indifferent to the suffering in its lower depths and the inability of the demoralised to change their condition.

As the evening falls, colored lamps and Chinese lanterns are lighted around the venerable oak which stands in the middle of the fairground and boys climb about among its topmost branches with maroons and Bengal lights.

I thought, I'll dropkick... onto these guys, did I ever tell you that? I'll dropkick one of these guys