When I was about three years old, I observed something that formed one of my earliest memories. Sitting outside of my mother’s family home in Calcutta at twilight, I saw a man on the street walking very fast with a toddler in his arms. I think it was a boy. A few steps behind them was a woman, running to keep up and begging, “please, please, don’t take my baby.” The child stretched his arms in her direction, wailing. She was clearly the mother, but the man could have been father, uncle, landlord, pimp, anyone. I’ve been thinking about that incident almost daily as we’ve prepared to release...