Twilight in Delhi - pg. 21

As he came into the by-lane a strong gust of hot wind blew dust into his eyes. A small cyclone formed itself, and particles of dust, stray bits of paper and feathers rose in the air circling and wheeling, rising up above the house-tops in a spiral, and as the force of the cyclone died down they descended limply, fluttering and tumbling back towards the earth. Somewhere nearby two women were quarrelling inside a dilapidated house:

'O God, give me death. I am tired of this life ....'