To an extent, denial of this kind is a coping mechanism. India is an everyday experience of poverty and navigating it can be gruelling—the beggars cajoling you for money, the homeless listlessly sitting by the roadside, the hovels that crop up on the pavements, the hawkers (many of them children) peddling their wares at traffic signals, the sprawling slums, home to one too many award-winning movies. Another reason for this insouciance is familiarity through over-exposure (the banality of poverty?), leading to a feeling of impotence and despondency, eventually mutating into indifference and insensitivity. After all, with prolonged exposure, our senses can eventually adjust to even the worst sights and smell. Poverty in India is like the air we breathe—toxic and ubiquitous. The only foolproof way to escape both is to move out of the country or hermetically sealing yourself in your homes.