July 23, 1997, New Delhi, India.
Heat.
It's not the dry, glaring heat of Mexico City, but a sticky wave of heat mixed with dust and particles of cow dung, clinging tightly to the skin, suffocating.
The sun is blinding, making the massive concrete structures of Nehru Stadium look pale as if it might start to smoke at any moment.
Outside the stadium, the scene is a peak of magic realism.
Under the giant billboard emblazoned with the Commonwealth Games emblem is a road full of potholes and puddles.
Cops in brand new uniforms, drenched in sweat, wave batons trying to chase away the untouchables rummaging through trash near the VIP passage.
A fleet of buses, decorated with colorful flags and carrying athletes from various countries, struggles to maneuver around a Divine Bull napping in the middle of the road.
The air is mixed with the scent of incense, sweat, exhaust fumes, and a faint, rotten smell from the Ganges River.
