Banoo Thanawalla

I call on Banoo Thanawalla next. She is 86 and lives alone, her husband died 5 years ago. He used to be a store-salesman. He was only making Rs.200 a month when she married him in 1967. They had no children and she is dependent on nephews who leave her some money whenever they visit from abroad and other charities. Though arthritic she manages to do all the housework herself. Her house used to be part of a bakery once. Soot covers the peeling walls, and the roof leaks. Her home is cluttered with belongings, but it is mostly old stuff that once used to belong to her mother-in-law. There is no TV, no fridge, and she cooks on a kerosene stove.

The next two families I meet would rather not be photographed. The thought of convincing them that I could shoot them without revealing their identities crosses my mind, but I decide to respect their wishes and leave.

Banoo Thanawalla reads the newspaper in her home on Sachapir Street, Pune