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By a dusty city road stood a wooden cabin decorated with garlands of tobacco pouches and cut-outs of Jesus Christ and Lord Shiva. Steeped in the fragrance of sweet, milky tea, it glittered with peg-sized glass cups brimming with tea. Men

Of Minarets, Dreams, and Memories

Perched on a latticed window of a century old haveli, the pigeons fluttered about as irreverently as the milling crowd. Steeped in history, stumbling through the 21st century, the city of brick-red buildings and stone-walled minarets stands aloof. Like a proud lioness,