Reached the airport hours earlier, for one reason and another. Then, the flight was delayed.

An old lady, bright, smiling eyes, tip-top English accent came and sat down beside me. She was going home to meet her 89 year old father.

She’d grown up in Colaba, when the fire brigade workers came every evening to wash down the roads. She said, Mumbai was so dirty now, the Muslims from the Middle East had come, and made everything a mess.

I couldn’t quite see the connection. But was too sleepy, and as usual, too polite and tongue-tied to comment. Felt like a fool, for hours afterwards.

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