Dear Mr. Rawlings,
If there‘s ever one great achievement I should praise myself after 68 years of existence on this turbulent planet called earth, then it was my ability to resist the temptation to reply you. Not only did you reduce my personality to that of a nonentity but you also created the platform for boys and girls young enough to be my children to subject me to ridicule and contempt.
Like a refuse dump, I endured all the insults and your humiliation with peerless stoicism. But today, I’m unable to keep quiet and allow you to go on this way. I make this appeal not for my own sake, but for the sake of Naadu and my family members, who are already swaying wearily under heavy weight of indescribable grief.
I heard you on the BBC the other day and I couldn’t help but shed tears. I was not…
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