On the corner of a bylane in Shakir Compound, Khwaja Salam sat on a yellow plastic chair. The noise of the grinder from his small factory, as it crushed plastic into little pellets often interrupted his conversation with six other men. They were talking about dhanda (business), karobar (trade) and rokra (cash). Money. On good days in Dharavi, the slum metropolis at the heart of Mumbai, that’s what people spoke about. On bad days that’s what people moaned about. Despite the sudden recall