Here is the letter that Sujata Bhatt write explaining her fellings during the colonization.
Friday 24th February, 1967.
Here I am again hidden in the garage. Again the strange and mostly aggressive people are trying to teach us a rare language and sometimes hitting old people and stealing our things.
I dont understand very much but my parents and granny are so terrified, from time to time they cry and pray. I had realized that when they are with me they try to pretend that it is all okay and when I go to sleep or they are alone they cry as if there was no tomorrow.
They dont like me to see when they suffer but it does not change me at all. At the end we will die so...
Now, it is all so grey. People are dying and our religion and culture had been stolen. I remember those days when we could play in the streets without problems, families were free and the birds where singing.
The city was free, the city was happy. Now they are depressed and scared. The only thing I can do is to express my opinions and feelings by writing poems.
Poetry, another wish that will be frustrated.
It is really unbelievable, some people come and just because they have weapons they do whatever they want.
All the wishes and expectations all the people had, including me will be frustated.
What had happened here?
Tomorrow I will write to you again, hoping this terrible India has changed.