ABSTRACT
Oxford University, at which I found myself the next day – my mother having already returned to India by the earliest boat on which she could find a passage – was a prospect that had aroused feelings of awe since the day I had been granted an exhibition; so the reality of Oxford railway station came as a shock. A hundred or so undergraduates milled around looking for their luggage. Once it would have been porters they sought, but now there were no porters and no wealthy golden youth to employ them. In army style we went directly to the barrows, the trunks, and hopefully to the taxi queue.
