Castaway, or Why Lalu Prasad Gives Me Hope
As I sit writing this essay, my uncle sits in the adjoining room performing his monthly ritual—Lakshmi Puja. He is clad in a dhoti, with another dhoti covering his torso, his “sacred thread” gleaming in its whiteness. His face, a study in piety and calm, a far remove from his agitated visage an...
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