Then there was a clutch of Parsi novelists–all settled abroad. Gifted story-tellers with good command of the language and the ability to laugh at themselves. They were at their best writing about their small circle of Bawajis. None went beyond, their plots became predictable. The most acclaimed in recent years was Rohinton Mistry (A Fine Balance and Family Matters). I read them, enjoyed what I read–and forgot who had written what.
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