We were from two extreme ends of the social spectrum. She, landed aristocracy. Me, respectable middle-class, at best. We also had 52 years between us. I met her when she was at the end of her long, eventful life. She was 83. She was articulate, gracious, full of words. Her voice, girlish and musical. Her laughter tinkling. Her curiosity untarnished. I didn’t see her as … Continue reading attia hosain (1913-1998) – the sunlight on a broken column