The Moment You Recognize What Is Beautiful

Here's A Strange Fact: Murder A Man, And You Feel Responsible For His Life - ''possessive'', Even. You Know More About Him Than His Father And Mother; They Knew His Fetus, But You Know His Corpse. Only You Can Complete The Story Of His Life, Only You Know Why His Body Has To Be Pushed Into The Fire Before Its Time, And Why His Toes Curl Up And Fight For Another Hour On Earth.

I’ve Lived In Several Countries And Been A Disaster Everywhere.

Indians Mock Their Corrupt Politicians Relentlessly, But They Regard Their Honest Politicians With Silent Suspicion. The First Thing They Do When They Hear Of A Supposedly 'clean' Politician Is To Grin. It Is A Cliche That Honest Politicians In India Tend To Have Dishonest Sons, Who Collect Money From People Seeking An Audience With Dad.

Go To Old Delhi,and Look At The Way They Keep Chickens There In The Market. Hundred Of Pale Hens And Brightly Colored Roosters, Stuffed Tightly Into Wire-mesh Cages. They See The Organs Of Their Brothers Lying Around Them.they Know They Are Next, Yet They Cannot Rebel. They Do Not Try To Get Out Of The Coop. The Very Same Thing Is Done With Humans In This Country.

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.