KOLHAPUR, India -- Kolhapur wakes up like a poem. Wooden carts roll into place, vendors tug at tarpaulin sheets, still damp from the night drizzle. Some call out to one another as they untie bundles of flowers to be sold as temple offerings. A newspaper delivery rider cycles by with stacks of newspapers tied neatly with string, dodging stray dogs curled up against warm doorsteps. Steam rises from unglazed-clay kulhads (cups), filling the air with the spicy aroma of ginger-infused milk tea.







