One woman's experience of the partition of India in 1947, told in verse. The traumatic experience is made even more tragic by the loss of the widow's brain damaged son somewhere on the trek from their home in India to the newly established Pakistan. Beautifully and movingly written by an award winning poet. Definitely one to read again and again.
Pakistan is what it amounted to
In the salting of lassi
in the knuckle dents of dough
In the pleating of a sari
in the sweeping of the hallway
Between the question and its answer