Quotable quotes from Rohinton Mistry's novel "A Fine Balance"

It's the most heart-breaking novel I have ever read and here are some bittersweet quotes I collected from the book:

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How much gratitude for a little sherbet, thought Maneck, how starved they seemed for ordinary kindness. 

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Ishvar shook his head sadly. 'Why are business people so heartless? With all their money, they still look unhappy.'

'It's a disease without a cure,' said Dina. 'Like cancer. And they don't even know they have it.'

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They stared at the drawing, uncertain how to respond to Beggarmaster's creation. He saved them the embarrassment by offering his own interpretation. 'Freaks, that's what we are - all of us.'

Ishvar was about to say he was being too hard on himself, that he should not take Shankar's and Nosey's fates entirely upon his own person, when Beggarmaster clarified himself. 'I mean, every single human being. And who can blame us? What chance do we have, when our beginnings and endings are so freakish? Birth and death - what could be more monstrous than that? We like to deceive ourselves and call it wondrous and beautiful and majestic, but it's freakish, let's face it.'

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'Everything ends badly. It's the law of the universe.' 

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'What do you mean, don't worry? How can it pass? Once there is a wife, there will be children. Then there will be even more on your mind. Where will they all stay? And all those mouths to feed. How many lives do you want to ruin?' 

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'What is it about marriages and weddings that turn people crazy. On this one topic he becomes a madman.' 

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'A new wife's kismat will change all our lives for the better.' 

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'You will see the difference the minute she crosses your threshold, Dinabai. Daughters-in-law have been known to transform the destiny of entire households.' 

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'Independence came at a high price: a debt with a payment schedule of hurt and regret.' 

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She tried to imagine Om a married man, tried to imagine a wife beside him, a woman with a small delicate figure like his. A wedding photo. Om in stiff new starched clothes and an extravagant wedding turban. Wife in a red sari. A modest necklace, nose-ring, earrings, bangles - and the moneylender waiting in the wings, happy to put the noose around their necks. 

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'No no, not a servant,' he said reproachfully. 'Why does it make her a servant if she does her duties as a wife? How else do people find happiness except in fulfilling their duty?'

'There can be no happiness without fairness,' she said. 'Remember that, Om - don't let anyone tell you otherwise.'

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'Yes,' said Maneck, 'we have three weeks to make a strong husband out of you.'

'And the father of half a dozen boys,' added Ishvar.

'Don't give bad advice, said Dina. 'Two children only. At the most, three. Haven't you been listening to the family planning people? Remember, Om, treat your wife with respect. No shouting or screaming or beating. And one thing is certain, I will not allow any kerosene stoves on my verandah.'

Ishvar understood her allusion, veiled though it was. He protested that bride burnings and dowry deaths happened among the greedy upper castes, his community did not do such things.

'Really? And what does your community say about male and female children? Any preferences?'

'We cannot determine these things,' he declared. 'It's all in God's hands.'

Maneck nudged Om and whispered, 'It's not in God's hands, it's in your pants.' 

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'In these arranged marriages, astrologers and families decide everything. Then the woman becomes the property of the husband's family, to be abused and bullied. It's a terrible system, turns the nicest girls into witches.' 

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Maneck studied Beggarmaster's excessive chatter, his attempt to hide his heartache. Why did humans do that to their feelings? Whether it was anger or love or sadness, they always tried to put something else forward in its place. And then there were those who pretended their emotions were bigger and grander than anyone else's. A little annoyance they acted out like a gigantic rage; where a smile or chuckle would do, they would laugh hysterically. Either way, it was dishonest. 

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And anyway, he thought, what sense did mourning make? It could be himself on that bier and the world would be no different. 

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'That's the way I always feel after watching a burning pyre - a completeness, a calmness, a perfect balance between life and death.' 

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The lives of the poor were rich in symbols, she decided. 

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'But in the end, time is a noose around the neck, strangling slowly.' 

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'We noticed you are spending more time in prayer.'

'Yes, awareness of death and old age tend to have that effect on us mortals.'

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In spite of everything, life was good, he thought. 

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'Our family name will die without children, it is the end of everything - everything is lost!' 

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'What to do, bhai, when educated people are behaving like savages. How do you talk to them? When the ones in power have lost their reason, there is no hope.' 

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And in all probability, he thought, it was just another instance of confusing sterilization with castration. A visit to the Centre would sort things out. 

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'Patience,' said Om. 'You will be able to do it as you get stronger.'

'What patience,' sobbed Ishvar. 'Patience is not going to make my legs grow back.'  

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Disappointment, betrayal, joy, heartache, hope - they all entered her through the same door, she thought.

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He patted her hand, and she saw his nails were dirty. A few months ago she would have been repulsed by the touch. Now she was grateful for it. His skin, wrinkled and scaly, like a harmless reptile's, filled her with wonder and sorrow. Why did I dislike him so much, she asked herself? Where humans were concerned, the only emotion that made sense was wonder, at their ability to endure; and sorrow, for the hopelessness of it all. And maybe Maneck was right, everything did end badly.

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'From my seat here on the bench, there is much that I observe every day. And most of it makes me despair. But what else to expect, when judgement has fled to brutish beasts, and the country's leaders have exchanged wisdom and good governance for cowardice and self-aggrandizement? Our society is decaying from the top downwards.'

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'So you are saying there is no hope?' she interrupted him.

'There is always hope - hope enough to balance our despair. Or we would be lost.' 

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'... Our lives are but a sequence of accidents - a clanking chain of chance events. A string of choices, casual or deliberate, which add up to that one big calamity we call life.'

... His words did ring true. She tested them against her own experience. Random events controlled everything... 

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He sighed heavily, and his sarcasm was displaced by grief. 'What are we to say, madam, what are we to think about the state of this nation? When the highest court in the land turns the Prime Minister's guilt into innocence, then all this' - he indicated the imposing stone edifice - 'this becomes a museum of cheap tricks, rather than the living, breathing law that strengthens the sinews of society.'

Touched by the weight of his anguish, Dina asked, 'Why did the Supreme Court do that?'

'Who knows why, madam. Why is there disease and starvation and suffering? We can only answer the how and the where and the when of it. The Prime Minister cheats in the election, and the relevant law is promptly modified. Ergo, she is not guilty. We poor mortals have to accept that bygone events are beyond our clutch, while the Prime Minister performs juggling acts with time past.' 

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'How much I have lost, in describing the circle. Ambition, solitude, words, eyesight, vocal cords. In fact, that is the central theme of my life story - loss. But isn't it the same with all life stories? Loss is essential. Loss is part and parcel of that necessary calamity called life.'

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'Mind you, I'm not complaining. Thanks to some inexplicable universal guiding force, it is always the worthless things we lose - slough off, like a moulting snake. Losing, and losing again, is the very basis of the life process, till all we are left with is the bare essence of human existence.' 

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'One of the drawbacks of my profession is the total lack of humour. The Law is a grim, unsmiling thing. Not Justice, though. Justice is witty and whimsical and kind and caring.'

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'The real murderers will never be punished. For votes and power they play with human lives. Today it is Sikhs. Last year it was Muslims; before that, Harijans. One day, your sudra and kusti might not be enough to protect you.' 

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'... Time swallowed human efforts and joy. Time, the ultimate grandmaster that could never be checkmated.' 

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Fed up, Maneck looked for the sports pages. There were pictures from cricket matches, and the statement from the Australian captain about a 'bunch of Third World beggars who think they can play cricket.' And then the jubilation and fireworks and celebration when the bunch of beggars defeated Australia in the Test Series. 

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If there was an abundance of misery in the world, there was also sufficient joy, yes - as long as one knew where to look for it.  

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'You know, it's so very rare to find a good audience for one's story. Most people get restless when a stranger tells them about his life. But you were a perfect listener.'

'Oh, I enjoyed listening. It shortened the journey. Besides, your life is so interesting.'

'You are very kind. Let me tell you a secret: there is no such thing as an uninteresting life.' 

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