An excerpt from an Indian novel in which a 12-year-old girl sees the statue whose promise seems ironic suddenly.
by Anuradha Majumdar
It is time to move on.
I have stood herald before this city for years, signalling people into the New World and watched history disembark on its harbour like a book. Shiploads arriving from the sea sailed past my raised arm in hushed reverence. I never smiled. People held their breath as they passed, eyes lifting for a moment in silent salute to the immortal flame that I held aloft as they glided into Ellis Island. I marked a gate of destiny. But their eyes already searched beyond, a little to the right, across the Hudson River, where they saw that concrete mirage of their dreams shimmer through the Atlantic haze at noon. New York! Every time those ships entered with people packed on the deck, it used to… Read full article
