“Mrs. Vice turned to the weddings page. She liked to look at the smiling brides and imagine how miserable they would soon be.”

“What kind of a man thinks it's appropriate to give his soon- to-be bride a lethal weapon for a wedding present?”

“When she looked at herself in her wedding photographs, Ammu felt the woman that looked back at her was someone else. A foolish jewelled bride. Her silk sunset-coloured sari shot with gold. Rings on every finger. White dots of sandalwood paste over her arched eye-brows. Looking at herself like this, Ammu's soft mouth would twist into a small, bitter smile at the memory - not of the wedding itself so much as the fact that she had permitted herself to be so painstakingly decorated before being led to the gallows. It seemed so absurd. So futile. Like polishing firewood.”

“The wedding day is perfect for the bride only if she is marrying the best man!”

“What kind of wedding would you like?" he asked, and stole another kiss before she could reply."The kind that turns you into my husband." She touched the firm line of his mouth with her fingers. "What kind would you like?"He smiled ruefully. "A fast one.”

“Weddings are never about the bride and groom, weddings are public platforms for dysfunctional families.”