The footpath in front of the apartment bears men and women jostling to begin their day. Most have blank looks which betray some expression only when they see their watch or an irregularity in their attire or some curious incident on the road - like the motorcyclist hurling abuses at the autorickshaw for having rammed into him.
A pirated-books seller is busy laying out the books on the footpath, dusting each book before placing it. Bevies of young girls continuously cross the road to reach the college gate on the opposite side. Most of them are giggling at each others' gossip. Some glance at the books. Each glance diverts the attention of the book seller, frustration quickly following expectation from both sides.
Some men with company tags hanging out of their pockets also stop to look at the books. Most men wear formal clothes, have a briefcase like bag and a serious look. The tags unite them like dogs of a pedigree. With men possessing similar tags, they share a common future and common jokes. [Different tags only change the names and some jargon - the essence of the conversation remains same among the tagged men!]
The bus stops are thronged by many colors and dull faces. Eager faces pop out of every bus that arrives, each face yelling - announcing the route and the destination. Most people want to go where the most packed buses go. Empty buses seem to be going where nobody wants to go and there are so many empty buses and so few packed buses!
The shopping mall looks lifeless. All the shops are closed and the mannequins stare eerily from the dark backgrounds. Coffee Day has woken up and are serving the morning dose of MTV to the cleaners of the mall. A sharp turn after the mall, and my office comes into my cone of vision.