Every morning, a little before seven, Pinki Kar Deb walks down the same lane she has walked for nine years. For most of those years, this was the place where her day began with someone else’s discarded waste. Today, it reminds her of how much has changed. There is no black mound of rotting peels and plastic at the corner where the road bends, no stray dog tearing through a torn sack, no smell that makes passersby quicken their pace and cover t…
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