Two weeks ago, I walked along an entirely different kind of street.
It was dirty, full of garbage, excrement, and raw sewage. Strangers bathed in the streets. Traffic moved about in chaotic forms. The homeless made homes in the streets. Struggling businesses dotted the streets. A dying man laid lifeless in the street. Misery is embodied on the streets.
The streets of Kolkata incarnate life in its rawest form.