Migrant to Belfast, Shan Mahnoor speaks out.
"I cannot understand the politics of this country. Sinn Fein rule... They are the bloody Mafia... Has nobody here heard of Adolf Hitler? Even beggars in the streets of Calcutta know of Adolf Hitler... but here they have their rights taken off them,... off them I say!... and they do not even notice... and not a word about it in their newspapers.
"I live in Belfast. I do not know what terrible Karma brought me to this accursed place. If Krishna would tell me I would be blessed indeed... but I do not understand a word of what they say to me. And they keep calling me "Sean McNoor" and telling me I am descended from an Irish monk who wandered off to India during the Irish famine. I know of no such ancestry! I come from a good family.
"The natives here speak English but not as we were taught it at school. On Sundays we bring sandalwood to burn at the shrine of Kali whom they call The Blessed Virgin and pilgrims stare at us like we came from Mars. What is wrong with this place? When we go to the supermarket to buy a tin of beans it is as if we are supposed to ask permission of the shop owner...
"Please Sir, do you mind if we buy this tin of beans? Will you be offended?. I know it may leave a gap on your shelf... but perhaps you can fix it?"
They are all mad. Everybody thinks they know everybody else even if they have never met them. We are finding it most hard to survive. When Summer comes I cannot even afford to buy my wife a fur coat or an electric blanket for our bed. I would go back to Pakistan tomorrow if I wasn't in so much debt."