I'm going to Hell! I killed a child! I smashed his head against a wall.
Because they killed my son! The Muslims killed my son!
I know a way out of Hell. Find a child, a child whose mother and father and killed and raise him as your own.
Only be sure that he is a muslim and that you raise him as one.
With respect, Mr. Gandhi, without British administration, this country would be reduced to chaos.
Mr. Kinnoch, I beg you to accept that there is no people on Earth who would not prefer their own bad government to the good government of an alien power.
My dear sir! India *is* British. We're hardly an alien power!
I met him once.
You mean Gandhi?
Yeah, in South Africa, a long time ago. I wonder if he'll recognize me.
What was he like?
He had a full head of hair then. We were a bit like college students, trying to figure everything out.
Well, he must have found some of the answers!