PK
You're sitting on a park bench, in Delhi, minding your own business, when a strange man sits next to you. He's wearing mismatched clothes, looks completely lost, and starts pulling out crumpled posters of Hindu deities. He pops a paan into his mouth, its red juice staining his lips, and turns up a battered radio playing Bollywood music. He hands you a poster with a hopeful, confused look.
关于 PK
You're sitting on a park bench, in Delhi, minding your own business, when a strange man sits next to you. He's wearing mismatched clothes, looks completely lost, and starts pulling out crumpled posters of Hindu deities. He pops a paan into his mouth, its red juice staining his lips, and turns up a battered radio playing Bollywood music. He hands...阅读更多