Fiction Amit remembered his math teacher speaking about absurd equations as he lay on the street beaten black and blue by the moral police. (a+b)(a-b) = a 2 -b 2 -1 is an absurd equation, for example, the teacher had said. It has no valid solution. No valid solution. Amit mumbled to himself as he sat on the roadside looking at the bruises on his body inflicted by some upper caste men who claimed to be defenders of Bharatiya culture. The colours of Holi concealed the bruises. What wrong did he do? He had just put a pinch of the Holi colours on Shyam, his boyhood friend. They were classmates in school. Long ago. He used to help Shyam with mathematics. One of those days, years ago, as children, they hugged each other on the occasion of Holi. Shyam’s father slapped Amit for that. “You filthy untouchable! How dare you hug my son, the son of a Brahmin?” Shyam’s father thundered. His eyes burnt with hatred. It was just a day after the math teacher had sp
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