New Delhi, 2004 Five pavement-dwellers lie dead at the side of Delhi’s Inner Ring Road.It sounds like the start of a sick joke.If it is, no one told them.They die where they slept.Almost.Their bodies have been dragged ten meters by the speeding Mercedes that jumped the curb and cut them down.It’s February. Three a.m. Six degrees.Fifteen million souls curl up in sleep.A pale fog of sulfur lines the streets.And one of the dead, Ragini, was eighteen years old. She was five months preg...
