My neighbors are kind. They have befriended monkeys in the neighborhood. Sometimes, we all look like families caring for each other. The monkey usually sits on the pipeline, connecting tap pipeline to the main supply, to not let people come near tap, unless it is my neighbor. In return, the neighbor lets the monkey use half bucket of water. Their children are kind too. Recently, the kids have started dropping out of school to give the parents another pair of hands to carry pails of bucket. I have been trying to visit Daryaganj this week to buy water colours for the kids. On a day when I am thinking whether water colours should even be in my shopping list, a memory of ocean fills up the lane and walks towards me in the form of a Class 11 child, asking a room, full of quiet children, “In which state is Bay of Bengal?” He was making jokes on water to break the ice between us. How are you and what’s up have become the most ridiculously creative questions ...

This is an account of a bus commuter being observant of spaces and interaction with women while observing the city as the bus accelerates around the word ‘daily’ every day.  On the first day in bus, the driver chided. “Pragati Maidan”, I responded with a voice that doesn’t care much about being misunderstood. “Ye poora Pragati Maidan hai. Metro station jana hai? Court jana hai? Joo jana hai? Kahan jana hai?  [This whole area is Pragati Maidan. Do you want to go to Metro? Court? Zoo? Where do you want to go?]" I was not prepared for so many options. Pragati Maidan had always looked so vast that it never felt like a place that would require me to be precise. Since that day, traveling by bus has come very close to being specific. I traveled in bus to take respite from the word daily. Metro was making me annoyed and impatient: I reached my destination late; I wasn’t getting up early to fix the situation; I never got a seat; There was nothing to look forward to e...