“Hema thought of Shiva, her personal deity, and how the only sensible response to the madness of life . . . was to cultivate a kind of madness within, to perform the mad dance of Shiva, . . . to rock and sway and flap six arms and six legs to an inner tune. Hema moved gently . . . she danced as if her minimalist gestures were shorthand for a much larger, fuller, reckless dance, one that held the whole world together, kept it from extinction.”
“Your tits are bigger," Shiva said."SHIVA!" Hema and Ghosh said at the same time."Sorry," he said, surprised by their reaction. "I meant her breasts are bigger," he said."SHIVA! That isn't the sort of thing you say to a woman," Hema said."I can't say it to a man," Shiva said, looking impatient.”
“What a journey...what a day...what madness, so much worse than tragic! What to do except dance, dance, only dance...”
“Dancing music, music sad,Both together, sane and mad…”
“I have danced with the spider. I have cut a caper with the dancing mad god.”
“A scarecrow man came from nowhere to dance madly in a hail of bullets.”