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7 April 2011updated 02 Mar 2015 5:02pm

How we rub along together: Mehdi Hasan on immigration

When my father arrived in England in the Sixties, he was welcomed with dog mess through his letter box.

By Mehdi Hasan

My father arrived in this country from India in January 1965, with a second-hand London A-Z stuffed in his jacket pocket and £3 in his wallet. A child of empire, he was born in Hyderabad in 1938 and came to Britain to study and work. His first few days in London were absorbed in news of Winston Churchill’s death on 24 January; he was one of the more than 320,000 people who filed past the catafalque in Westminster Hall during the three days that the former prime minister’s body lay in state.

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