A ten-year-old boy named Dhyaneshwar looked up for approval after carefully typing the word “Alaska” into a PC.
“Bahut acchaa!” I cheered—“very good.”
It was April, 2004, and I was visiting a “telecenter” in the tiny village of Retawadi, three hours from Mumbai. The small, dirt-floored room, lit only by an open aluminum doorway, was bare except for a desk, a chair, a PC, an inverter, and a large tractor battery, which powered the PC when grid electricity was unavailable. Outside, a humped cow chewed on dry stalks, and a goat bleated feebly… More at Boston Review.