In a small gallery off Old Street, a woman with a glass of wine and Vero Cuoio shoes stares at the photograph of another woman—thousands of miles away—shovelling shit from a public latrine used by 450 people. The caption says it’s a job this faraway figure merits because she is a Dalit, an untouchable, the lowest caste in Indian society.
Anger, art and India’s apartheid
John Elliott / January 22, 2010
The Jaipur Literary Festival is only in its fifth year but it’s already billed as...