<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<mods xmlns:xsi="http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema-instance" xmlns="http://www.loc.gov/mods/v3" version="3.1" xsi:schemaLocation="http://www.loc.gov/mods/v3 http://www.loc.gov/standards/mods/v3/mods-3-1.xsd">
  <titleInfo>
    <title>The other radcliffe</title>
  </titleInfo>
  <name type="personal">
    <namePart>Sinha, Neeraj</namePart>
    <role>
      <roleTerm authority="marcrelator" type="text">creator</roleTerm>
    </role>
  </name>
  <typeOfResource>text</typeOfResource>
  <originInfo>
    <place>
      <placeTerm type="text">The Indian Police Journal</placeTerm>
    </place>
    <issuance>monographic</issuance>
  </originInfo>
  <language>
    <languageTerm authority="iso639-2b" type="code">eng</languageTerm>
  </language>
  <physicalDescription>
    <form authority="marcform">print</form>
    <extent>68(4), Oct-Dec, 2021: p.1-6</extent>
  </physicalDescription>
  <abstract>It would seem that Mr Cecil Radcliffe was more than a little distracted when he sat down to give the finishing touches to what would become the most defining strokes a man could ever make with a pen in hand. To the random eye the lines he drew from his remote perch, on the map of British India, appeared to follow no rational path. Barring brief interludes of lucidity - when Murshidabad was given to India to open a passage between north and south Bengal – the exercise might seem like a drunken stupour across a massive cartographic sheet. Or even, for the sheer volume of the upheaval it caused, the uncontrolled meander of a river in spate, bringing calamity and destruction in its wake.- Reproduced </abstract>
  <relatedItem type="host">
    <name>
      <namePart>The Indian Police Journal </namePart>
    </name>
  </relatedItem>
  <recordInfo>
    <recordCreationDate encoding="marc">230310</recordCreationDate>
  </recordInfo>
</mods>
