Rhythms of Day and Night The scenes beyond our balcony had a certain rhythm and a predictability in spite of the randomness of the confluences of disparate events and individual propensities. Kohinoor Road was like a wide stage where life was displayed, objectified, and the hundreds of people who strolled across it were like a large cast of characters, ever changing, and providing endless possibilities for imagining. Early mornings were exciting with the promise of the new day ahead, with regular office-goers walking briskly in both directions, towards the train station or the bus stops. Cars with people on their way to work. Teenaged boys delivering newspapers and magazines tossing ours adroitly onto our balcony.. The Aarey Milk Colony milk-truck arriving to deliver ice-cold bottles containing pasteurised milk to the booth behind our house that our cook brought back and poured into a large utensil to bring to a boil. When the bell rang at a certain time, it meant tha