Amar: The idea of Development at first sprouted in his mind by the ubiquitous pictures of the developed world - the West. In movies, in news, even in books he saw those mighty skyscrapers, soaring proudly in the sky as if challenging every possible limitation. He was told, in different languages, "Look, this is how development looks like."
Amazed and awed by the magnificence of those buildings, and by the tales of prosperity, he felt in his heart the need to rise, to run, and to become like them. The march of man towards a world free of misery thrilled him. He forgot to look carefully at them who walked in the corridors of those buildings. Early in his childhood, he was exposed to the vision of a Modern India. Years passed by and he grew up into an adult, self-absorbed and confident, and those pictures of development always lingered before his eyes. He still feels that New Delhi is nothing but a poor parody of New York. He has miles to go.
Akbar: Meanwhile, the great-grandfathers gave up their old devotion for Arabic and Persian and made sure that the little ones do well in English and Mathematics. Some of them, including Akbar, were captivated by the charm of oil-lamps. He slammed the windows to keep out the winds (from West). With a pride akin to a loyal subject who gives shelter to a dethroned king, he kept on fighting for the lost cause. Hde idn't allow kids to keep dogs in house and made them watch the Mushayara channel. To others, his tenacity was futile and pitiable, like that of an animal which was being dragged to the slaughterhouse.
Anthony: Standing in front of the memorial, he sighed. They made it to last, those Portugese, he wondered. And now, all he can see is*...
*this post is incomplete.
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