On the Rails...
A prototypical young couple. Married, not for more than a year, by the looks of it. The guy, immersed in his tablet playing Candy Crush. Opposite of him, sits his wife, legs crossed, enjoying the gentle breeze by the window – stealing glances at her husband, with annoyance or love, one would never know. Could always bet on annoyance, I guess. A prototypical, unbelievably loud and large family. Two small children, heads covered ear to ear with mufflers to escape the scathing Bengaluru’s cold. Aged around five, the age when one starts the never-ending hatred of the world around, crying and sobbing to be allowed to play. Their parents, pushing two big-ass smartphones inside their tiny naïve hands, putting dexterity to use and curiosity to lose. Two burly men, with strong muscular arms, remnants of a country upbringing – the children’s uncles – having an animated conversation over a hearty dinner. The conversation, so thick and hoarse with accent, one could easily mistake it for an