The matted straw cover of the latrine was yanked away. The sun blinded me as I looked up at the dark outline of two young soldiers in tattered camouflage, their uniforms made for men bigger...
—Nick Hahn
She was right. After all, if she herself had wondered whether she was Indian enough — she, who had always been to me a sort of epitome of Indian — then who could be? Who...
—Tanuja Desai
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