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CRAZY LONDON – random encounters

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The other day I cycled home from work.

A boy lay across the pavement.

Obviously I stopped to see if he was ok.

So did a group of Bengali youths.

They and I tried to assess the situation and understand what had happened.

The boy seemed to be fine, but he wouldn’t speak to us.

One of the Bengali teenagers bent down to the boy to take a good look at him.

“He’s not Bengali, he’s a white boy”, was his conclusion.

As if that somehow mattered.

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