This country has just been enacted, given independence from the British. For all the centuries that India existed, it was just CIA for me, But now it is India. Something that is real. Something that can hit me, and cause real injury. So I stay put away from it. I still use stuff called R, and never appear on its scanners. It is known to have purported several attacks on me since birth. But they come to take me as R. Then they hit me, with a politics that Sir calls, people coming here, the mishap, then people leaving this place, giving me some relief, I heal later when I give to them through a computer. They are social, that’s where they found me. So I stay aloof, no family, no religion, not social at all. I can’t leave this country, can’t leave where I live. They are concrete. I’ll die if I don’t give to them. But it is a very modern cover up that takes form for me in some newsroom, and later transforms into people in a house, being social, calling me son. I find it obnoxious. Their lies are so thin. I have to give to them, or they’ll scream and shout, make my life hell. Take me back to the dark ages, they’ll go ape and hitting me with violent gas and concentration camps. They’re ugly and stinky. They keep annoying me and scaring me all the time. I have to take a lot of blame, and keep my confidence low here. Or they’ll go ape and wreck havoc for me.