As she walked down the bustling streets of Delhi, picking pieces of paper, rags, bottles...she always noticed the way people looked at her; with contempt, with disgust...some with pity, and some with lust. She would just shake her head, put on a smile- and would continue to walk- doing what she had always done; pick up the garbage to sell, so she could fill her stomach. What the world saw, what they thought wasn't of much consequence, her hunger, her need mattered the most.

No one knew her name, she was an anathema, just like thousands of others like her, walking the busy streets of Delhi, scavenging what they could, living a life no one wants to live willingly.

As she walked, she came across a food joint, the smell of fried chicken wafting across, engulfing her senses, reminding her that she hadn't...