I There is a stink as we pass

I have brought you out at the only time you can breathe in some fresh air. The first cars and buses have already come out on the streets. Another two hours and you will be breathing poison!

How innocent the city seems now, waking up from its sleep. There is a freshness on people’s faces as they greet the new day. It is strange how the buildings too look rested. Perhaps it has something to do with the slant and the softness of the sun’s rays at this time of the morning.

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Here the pavement dwellers are folding up their makeshift beddings. Some are washing up at a tube well in a corner of the pavement. There is a stink as we pass them, but what fault is it of theirs? Blame society; blame the government!

Across the road, do you see where the tram is turning? That is the tram depot. Sometimes, when I want to break routine and get away from it all, I get into an empty tram here and let it take me to wherever it is going, and travel back the same way—it is relaxing and a good change.

How about a cup of tea at this road-side stall? There is nothing like it early in the morning. You can have it black, or plain, with cardamom or with ginger. If you want it milky, you just have to say, ‘Make it special.’

Isn’t it time we walked back? We will come again another day, maybe in the evening. We will see another side of this city. Then these same streets will look different, as if they aren’t these streets at all! And there is a nice little Chinese restaurant round the comer where we can treat ourselves to a delicious meal!