Lying in a fan-cooled room with calming pale blue walls this morning, I can hear the non-intrusive sounds of clucking chickens, chirping birds, Musilm call-to-prayer, shuffling feet, muted conversations and the occasional wandering street vendors calling out their wares and alerting the residents to their presence. They are selling Chai tea, fresh fruit and vegetables, cooking pots and pans, snacks and bottled drinks, sometimes even ice cream. I feel utterly blessed to be in this tranquil neighborhood setting, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby downtown markets, temples, churches, palaces, crowds of people, piles of garbage, gaunt cows, dogs, cats and goats, honking buses, motorbikes and the ever-present put-putting polluting 3-wheel rickshaws. We braved all this yesterday. We enjoyed a delightful home-cooked Indian breakfast of dosas (a thin sourdough-type crispy pancak
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