NEAR A BUSY traffic circle in Calcutta, a man was sitting naked on the hot ground. His hair was matted, and his eyes were not where he was.
What to make of this man? I am beyond the point where a naked man on a city street in India gets badly translated in my brain as a holy man. No clothes equaling infinity. Man out walking with God. He is not a Naga Baba. He is as distant from their companionable nakedness as I am from him.