. . . Sanjeev discovered a city pulsing with life.  Sandhurst Road was a wide expanse of dirt and concrete, lined with tall coconut trees and thick baobabs.  Enormous buildings framed both sides of the street, and crowds of people were everywhere.  They moved on the side path, emerged from buildings, and crossed into traffic with no apparent thought for their safety. 

   The avenue was filled with cars, buses, and carts drawn by horses, oxen, and donkeys.  Some carts were piled so high that it seemed their goods would topple over at any moment.  Motorcycles weaved in and out of the chaos, beeping continuously.  One stopped in front of Sanjeev, and he saw a family of five.  The father was in front, balancing an infant on the steering bar, while the mother sat sideways behind him, holding two small boys on her lap.  One of the boys caught Sanjeev’s eye; he smiled and waved, but before Sanjeev could wave back the father had gunned the motor and they vanished from sight.

     Then a bus pulled up, kicking dust into Sanjeev’s eyes.  He sneezed and wiped his nose with his hand.  The bus was so crowded that people were hanging out of doors, heads were popping out of windows, and there were even people sitting on the roof.

     “Papa, can we ride on top?” Sajeev asked, tugging at his father’s sleeve.

     “Of course not!” Mr. Alpam answered.  “Do not think that way, it is very dangerous.  Only Untouchables do such things.”

     “What are Untouchables?”

  His father’s tone softened.  “Everyone is born with different abilities.  Untouchables perform manual labor.  Like Malya cooks and cleans for us.  They do not mind doing dangerous things, they are accustomed to it.  But we are better than that, Sanjeev.   I would lose my job if anyone suspected my family of such things.”

     “Does Malya ride on top of buses?”

     Mr. Alpam did not answer.  He led Sanjeev up the steps and squeezed to the back of the bus.  They found a small area to stand and the bus lurched forward.  Sanjeev clung to his father’s leg.  Around him, people swayed back and forth like reeds in a river.  Through a sea of arms and legs, Sanjeev peered through the dusty window, catching glimpses of women in a shop, baskets under their arms; men in a dark alley, hammering on a piece of metal as sparks flew about them; then he saw the ocean, dotted with small sailboats and larger ships belching black smoke.

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