The puddle on that January morning was cold. The skin on her leg was torn and blood oozed slowly. Her wrinkled, baton-shaped arms failed her when she tried to get up. She called for help. There were 50 widows within 50 metres: all busy, caught in a frenzy to fill water from a borewell in worn-out disposable bottles abusing, pushing, falling, and kicking each other. Five years ago, 65-year-old Chandralekha came to Mahila Ashray Sadan in Chaitanya Vihar, Vrindavan, a house for destitute, wido