Ken Doyle

“...he stayed on the balcony for a while, the throbbing energy of the chawls filling his veins as he watched traffic ebb and flow. Shutters veiled the shops on the ground floor across the lane, and only a few lights flickered here and there, probably other mill workers like his father.

(from Aam Papad)”
― Ken Doyle, Bombay Bhel

“She removed the shining black disk from its sleeve, holding it by the edges. After she placed it on the turntable and set the arm into motion, she adjusted the volume on the amplifier, flooding the room with sound. She closed her eyes and began to sway to the music. She could almost feel Clive’s arms guiding her, as he had done so many times over the course of their lives together.

(from Independence Day)”
― Ken Doyle, Bombay Bhel

“Bicycles, bullock carts, and buses that belched thick, black smoke moved in anarchic streams with the auto rickshaws and cars along the streets. Many of the shops—normally selling everything from groceries to stainless steel cookware to shoes—stood silent behind shutters and honeycomb grilles.”
― Ken Doyle, Bombay Bhel

“He looked at me with a smile that I still remember and ran a finger along his impeccably trimmed mustache. “Cricket is about a lot more than playing by the rules, Mistry. It’s a gentleman’s game. Don’t you ever forget that.”
― Ken Doyle, Bombay Bhel