This week as diplomats' families and tourists quickly disappeared, journalists from Europe and Americaarrived in droves. Most of them stay at the Imperial Hotel in Delhi. Many of them call me. Why are you stillhere, they ask, why haven't you left the city? Isn't nuclear war a real possibility? It is, but where shall Igo? If I go away and everything and every one, every friend, every tree, every home, every dog, squirrel andbird that I have known and loved is incinerated, how shall I live on? Who shall I love, and who will love meback? Which society will welcome me and allow me to be the hooligan I am, here, at home?