Strange Thoughts Brew In Your Heart When

I Grew Up, As Many Indians Do, In An Archipelago Of Tongues. My Maternal Grandfather, Who Was A Surgeon In The City Of Madras, Was Fluent In At Least Four Languages And Used Each Of Them Daily.

When I Was Growing Up In The South Indian City Of Madras, There Were Only Two Political Parties That Mattered; One Was Run By A Former Matinee Idol, And The Other Was Run By His Former Screenwriter.

If Only A Man Could Spit His Past Out So Easily.

Nothing Gives Us Greater Pride Than The Importance Of India's Scientific And Engineering Colleges, Or The Army Of Indian Scientists At Organizations Such As Microsoft And Nasa. Our Temples Are Not The God-encrusted Shrines Of Varanasi, But Western Scientific Institutions Like Caltech And Mit, And Magazines Like 'nature' And 'scientific American.

The Book Of Your Revolution Sits In The Pit Of Your Belly, Young Indian. Crap It Out, And Read. Instead Of Which, They're All Sitting In Front Of Color Tvs And Watching Cricket And Shampoo Advertisements.