There was a crowd of people waiting outside 309, Shapoorji Street. Everyone was waiting for her arrival. The grey clouds had lashed out at the surface in a fierce downpour again, veiling the ambient by a thin layer. It was difficult to capture the faces from distance.
As Swamy walked closer, their heads turned to her. The people were not strangers but her neighbours, Swamy confirmed. Some of them were her classmates, acquaintances, her bullies from the school and even the teachers. Swamy was seeing them after three years or longer. She didn’t exactly remember.
She spotted a group of young boys hurled in a corner. They were having a hushed conversation in turns. Unfortunately, she couldn’t recognise them at first glance, but a long hit at the memory and she remembered one amongst
