No Way To Escape

It seems that dogs on Indian streets are almost like a superstition, a token of a good luck, they find dwelling place at any other corner, near a house gate, on a construction site.

During the hour of the day they rest in the shadow of a tree or under a parked car, and through the deep of the night, united into gangs of seven and eight, they roam the streets, disturbing innocent sleepers.

There is no way to escape them.