Vikram Sethi Chapter 1 The afternoon sun baked the crumbling walls of the old Shyam Sundar Textile Mill, its rusted machinery silent for decades. Redevelopment crews had been at it for weeks, reducing the skeletal factory to mounds of brick dust and twisted iron. That day, the foreman’s shouts echoed off the hollow shell as an excavator clawed at the earth near the western wing. When the bucket hit something solid beneath the soil, the metallic scrape was sharper than stone. Curious, a few workers dropped their tools and gathered as the machine tore open what appeared to be a…