The most difficult moments of my childhood came on one day every year, the holy day of Saraswati Puja. Hindus dedicated the day to the Goddess of Learning through prayer and ritual and, paradoxically, by denying themselves the joys of reading or writing. Despite the most strenuous efforts, I could never master the required degree of self-denial. If I successfully pushed my books aside, I would find myself reading the fine print on the toiletries in the bathroom or the fragments of old newspaper that lined my clothes-drawers. But I think the goddess forgave me these transgressions. For I
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