The scene was one of the most depressing ones I have ever had to visit but human endurance is such that when a loved one’s life depends on it, all else is forgotten.
A white person born poor in 1970 Calcutta complains incessantly of how racist Indians were against her before she acquired UK citizenship (by proving all her grandparents were white) and left. She seems to now live in a three-storey house with maidservants in London, engage in some amount of charity work, and lack all awareness of why Indian men may have wanted to touch her or why other poor people might wonder why she was in queues for free stuff.