‘I smell it, taste it, feel its heaviness’: Life in Delhi’s dust

In claustrophobic northern India, generations have grown up with deadly air, and the dust is a normal part of life.

Listen to the audio version of this story here. It was February in Manali, Himachal Pradesh, in the western Himalayas. As the winding highway took a turn along the Beas river, our taxi’s clean, just-washed windshield quickly gathered a thick patina of dust. Dogs chased the car, their limbs like the flapping wings of a bird struggling to move through a dust storm. I scanned the dawn mountainscape for lights, subconsciously looking for even the remotest semblance of city life, and saw more dust. As we rolled up our windows, the dust was already between our teeth, covering our clothes and the book in my hand.