I am fortunate to have here one of the earliest printings of Jawaharlal Nehru's The Discovery of India, written in 1944 while he was imprisoned in Ahmadnagar Fort:
It was presumptuous of me to imagine that I could unveil India and find out what she is and what she has been. Today she is four hundred million men and women, each differing from the other, each a private universe of thought and feeling. If this is so in the present, how much more daunting to grasp that multitudinous past of innumerable successions of human beings. Yet something has bound them together and binds them still. India is a geographical and economic entity, a bundle of contradictions held together by strong yet invisible threads. Overwhelmed again and again, her spirit was never conquered, and today when she appears to be the plaything of a proud conqueror, she remains unsubdued and unconquered. About her there is the elusive quality of a legend of long ago; some enchantment seems to have held her mind. She is a myth, an idea, and yet real and pervasive. There are terrifying glimpses of dark corridors which seem to lead back to primeval night, but there is also the fullness and warmth of the day about her. Shameful and repellent she is occasionally, perverse and obstinate, sometimes even a little hysteric, this lady with a past. But she is very lovable and none of her children can forget her wherever they go or whatever strange fate befalls them. For she is part of them in her greateness as well as her failings, and they are mirrored in those deep eyes of hers that have seen so much of life's passion and joy and folly, and looked down into wisdom's well.