For sometime Nadeem had not been able to sit down at his writing-table. He caressed with loving fingers the diary in which he had recorded his experience of the Pakistani genocide of the Bangalees in 1971. He was barely twelve then. His parents had put him in the
For sometime Nadeem had not been able to sit down at his writing-table. He caressed with loving fingers the diary in which he had recorded his experience of the Pakistani genocide of the Bangalees in 1971. He was barely twelve then. His parents had put him in the
The march of the hunted across a land No longer their own began
