I don’t remember how my life began. I dont remember where I was born or what I was before I became what I am today. I have very sketchy memories – somewhat sexual. And then I was in St Edmunds, Shillong, a boarding school from hell. I have photographs which give me an insight to the person I once was. A boy with tears in his eyes, desperate not to go to boarding school. People looking into the camera and smiling smiles that they do not mean. I look at these photographs and try to find myself, some shread of what I am today, some reason, some logic which can explain why I turned out the way I did. But there’s nothing. Or maybe I just don’t remember. Doesn’t matter. It’s the same thing.