There is much in Vasant Moon's story of his vasti, his childhood neighborhood in India, that would probably be true of any ghetto anywhere in the world. There is hunger and deprivation, to be sure, but also a sense of community, an easy acceptance of petty crime and violence, the saving grace of sports and organized activities led by caring adults, the off-again on-again aid from relatives, the inexplicable cruelty and unexpected generosity, and escape...