Yes, I’ve dropped into another world. I’ve experienced similar places in India: people weaving across busy streets, through streams of cars, motorcycles, auto rickshaws; endless honking, people spitting everywhere, pools of spittle, some tinged with red betelnut, women clad in dark draperies, eyes peering from a human mask. How beautiful those women must be—but I see their eyes only, darting, staring at me, then withdrawing their gaze, clutching a toddler’s hand, comforting a crying baby. The noise, oh the noise, swelling voices, arguing, calling, discussing prices in the market, crowing, the creak of the wheels of portable stalls, rumble of motors, honking, endless honking. What’s different about Hyderabad? A city of over 5 million, crammed with movement, the drone of the call to prayer early in the morning and several more times throughout the day, men
... read more