Indu tapped on the scratched wood door with the flat of her hand to herald our arrival. We didn’t stand in the laneway longer than a few seconds when the door opened slowly and a hand appeared from behind the curtain hanging in the doorway and waved me in. The gauzy light coming in through the curtain kept other prying eyes out and some dignity inside. Once inside, my eyes widened in amazement. I was dumbfounded, transfixed, shocked and then stoic as I held my breath and watched the women (four of them plus a small child) do what was necessary to bring a new child into the world. Water was boiled and carried from other homes nearby in pots usually used to cook rice and dal. The baby’s upper
Nikita, Indu, Yogita and friend celebrating Ganpati. It’s a dark and stormy night - really dark, until the lightening brightened the sky for a second. Thick sheets of rain blur the buildings on the opposite side of the street so they appear as murky watercolour ghosts and the thunder almost drowned out the sound of auto rickshaw horns in the street below the window. The watery relief from the current heatwave in Mumbai is delicious with the added benefit of adding to the dwindling water reserves and giving some nourishment to Maharashtra’s parched farmland. Cindy, Simran, Noorsaba, Kushmana, Todd and Ganesh. Dirty Wall Project is back in Saki Naka. As our flight descended over the city the
