What'll happen to Vaisya when we're gone? They'll throw him in the canal!
MOKSA
My son cannot work. He is clean and pure. I have nothing.
INDIO
This is Indio, father!
MOKSA
Ah, I see you! You are my son, I am Krishna. You are the fire that burns my soul. You have killed your mother, Indio. You did not go to the factory.
INDIO
You always go back to the same thing. You're saying just what they want you to say: that everything they do to us is our own fault, or our poverty's fault--the same poverty they've given us is what causes our poverty! or else it's the communists' fault. It's never the fault of the Dutch or the English or the Americans; they're just peace-loving Businessmen going peacefully about their Business. It's we who butcher ourselves, because we're cannibals; it's we who starve ourselves, because we're ascetics; it's we who murder our own children, because we superstitious Natives love to stink up our slums with the rotting bodies of our own children. Can you hear me, old man? You know well we had nothing to do with mother's death--nor did she! You know exactly who killed her! The very same people who took your daughter and then killed her daughter. Do you hear? Don't you remember how you'd tell me about the stinking ships in which they packed Africans like so much meat--and if the whole shipload died of disease, they went back for another load? Do you think
