Abstract
I grew up in a household that crossed boundaries.And as a result, I faced relentless questions from my classmates, their parents, my neighbors, local shopkeepers, even pedestrians. Asking uncom-fortable questions tominority people like “why don’t you eat beef?” or “why don’t your men under-go circumcisions?” or “why do you give sambar to your lentil soup?”is normal in Bangladesh, where I live. I was taught to overlook these questions—to know them as rhetorical queries, to which there can be no sane reply. What justified the casual insults hurled at me as a representative of a minority?
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