“ I asked Mother about the deaths and she said people kill themselves when they are very sad, when they live in very sad houses and have nowhere to go. Which made me worried because if you stand at the bus stop and look at our house, it looks like a crying face. Its windows are the eyes, half-closed by curtains, while the rain, wind and sun have marked the wall, streaked several lines, two of which look like tears, one below each window. The mouth is the balcony, curved down under the weight of iron railings, rusted and misshapen. Like the stained teeth of someone sad, someone very old.”

- If You are Afraid of Heights; Raj Kamal Jha

I dozed off at six today morning; the night and I have become good friends. We will probably have an unruly affair. Well. After a three-hours sleep, I’m still in that twilight of consciousness, but I know that I don’t understand the book. It doesn’t make sense to me. And I don’t feel persuaded enough to read it again.