My Life Is Short. I Can't Listen

It Has Had A Calamitous Effect On Converted Peoples. To Be Converted You Have To Destroy Your Past, Destroy Your History. You Have To Stamp On It, You Have To Say 'my Ancestral Culture Does Not Exist, It Doesn't Matter'.

The Writer Is All Alone.

We Made No Inquiries About India Or About The Families People Had Left Behind. When Our Ways Of Thinking Had Changed, And We Wished To Know, It Was Too Late. I Know Nothing Of The People On My Father's Side; I Know Only That Some Of Them Came From Nepal

How Could People Like These, Without Words To Put To Their Emotions And Passions, Manage? They Could, At Best, Only Suffer Dumbly. Their Pains And Humiliations Would Work Themselves Out In Their Characters Alone: Like Evil Spirits Possessing A Body, So That The Body Itself Might Appear Innocent Of What It Did.

Men Need History; It Helps Them To Have An Idea Of Who They Are. But History, Like Sanctity, Can Reside In The Heart; It Is Enough That There Is Something There.