Every day, at 7:15 am, Prachi’s mother walks the six-year-old to her school in Pune, walking cautiously past the corner of the road, to avoid the giant SUVs and sedans zipping past after dropping the wards at the fortress-like school complex. Prachi enters the school with a few other children from her neighbourhood, a colony of waste-pickers. Prachi’s mother is one of them, her father a rickshaw-puller. The lady’s back again in the afternoon, along with her neighbours. The broad road leading to the school is nearly empty, no cars in sight yet. Soon, she can be seen leading her daughter out. The kid is crying, protesting—refusing to go home. Most of her classmates are still in school, playing games and participating in extra-curricular activities. Her teachers, however, have told Prachi that she is not allowed to take part in them.