“He knew I was being abused. Not one of them spoke for me. The cruel crowd! All of them abused, abused, abused. Why are we always abused? The santry inspictor and the Sahib that day abused my father. They always abuse us” (98).

So innocent its almost infantile. Familiarizing himself with the sort of prejudice he is destined to face, while still refusing to accept the social consequences followed by who he is.

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