Devika Balakrishnan & Brajabandhu Rana matter

We suffer our own domestic Donald Trumps; we mourn our own George Floyds

When I began this column those familiar lines from Shakespeare’s play within a play “What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba/That he should weep for her?” were ringing in my ears, warning that race murder in Minneapolis was no concern of mine. As I read and wrote, the lines changed to John Donne’s “No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main...”
 
So much death and disaster surround us in India that a white policeman kneeling on the neck of a 46-year-old North Carolina Black for