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Connected Lives

Under the mango tree

I grew up in a house by National Highway 17 in Kozhikode (Kerala) city. My days and nights were filled with sound–a maddening cacophony of cars, trucks, buses and auto rickshaws, people cursing, cussing, swerving.

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Connected Lives

In spite of the Gods

There’s a road very close to my home, which thousands of commuters use every day. As roads go by, it is nothing special–not extra wide or four-laned or nicely tarred, even. It’s just a linking