Evening was falling. The chill in the air was sharp, the winds howling fiercely. Drawn by a craving for a cigarette, Ashok left his room at Ashok Lodge and wandered down to the pan stall at the crossroads. He lit one, letting the smoke warm him, feeling a little lighter with every puff. The shop beside the stall was shuttered. On the steps nearby sat a woman and her child—a girl of about five. Both trembled from the cold. The woman carried herself like someone from a respectable household; worry etched her face. Ashok's attention drifted