She may keep convincing herself that she is physically attractive and charming...... (yikes....that perennially constipated look !!)
She may keep crowing about her charm to all those out there who agree to be fooled.....
She may keep fooling herself and her gullible readers about her value as a writer....
She may keep going on with her drivel about the desirability of wealth, soft porn, women's issues and may have really fooled herself into being convinced about her acceptability as an authority on these subjects......
But even she, the 'literary' lightweight she has always been, cannot hide from herself for much longer the fact that she turned permanently green in colour (metaphorically) when she heard a decade ago that Arundhati Roy won the booker prize. Oh, the years since have been so heavy with heartburn, so weighed down by her jealousy (knowing in her heart of hearts that she can never hope to be even considered by the booker committee), so packed with yearning, so full of doomed hope that few Indians will notice that she is after all not the diva of Indian writing in English that she would like herself to be considered as !!!!
