Who did an interview with Arundhati Roy on The Huffington Post?”
The year before its second nuclear tests, the world’s largest democracy hurled a bomb onto the international stage. At first, people didn’t realize it was a bomb. It was tiny, looked harmless and took a while to explode. But explode it did and the world’s largest democracy is still reeling. Or perhaps we should say “democracy”. Perhaps, in fact, we should say “heavily sponsored, TV-friendly spectator sport”. The bomb, of course, was Arundhati Roy, the fragile-looking beauty from Kerala whose whimsical tale of two-egg twins and pickles, literal and metaphorical, bagged the Booker and set the world on fire. For India, this was confirmation that theirs was a land rich in saleable exports: photogenic, charming and home-grown. No hooded eyes or fatwas here; no unseemly flight to London or New York. Here was glamor, here was grace, here was huge-eyed modesty in a sari. This was the face of the new India: sophisticated, educated, funny and — did we mention this? – drop-dead gorgeous. “I have
