For The Sunday Tribune | March 20, 1977 I first heard of Kalapani as a boy in an Amritsar village. It was a place familiar to every Punjab villager, for that is where you were bound to be sent, if you were unfortunate enough to kill a neighbour, in a sudden fit of anger. When the 'Session' sahib pronounced ‘Umr Qaid’ on a sultry summer afternoon, while the flies droned around your head, you took a last look at your brother Banta Singh, for you were never likely to see him

For The Tribune (Magazine Section) | October 24, 1976 Republished in The Statesman | January 2, 1977 We were standing at the bar sipping pints of bitter. The pub was rather special. Indian owned and Indian patronized, "The Oxford" stood in the seedy harbour front area of Southampton. The area around it was peopled by working class Indian immigrants. We were there because I had persuaded my host, to show me this symbol of the Indian presence. The pub was as run down as t