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Peths of Pune

In the old town of Pune, gray eagles circle the sky like fragments of paper ash floating on the heat over a fire. The traffic is relentless, the endless beeping and crepitating of motorbikes compete with push carts, motorized rickshaws, and city buses, each jostling, wheedling, cajoling for a space, just an inch more of space, and when they get it, they leap forward with a joyful kick of the motor. A pedestrian must put his faith in their drivers, for there are too many moving targets to watch at once, and progress is impossible if you stand petrified at the street’s edge. …