When
you are not enclosed in an air-conditioned vehicle, the drill of treading in
Delhi’s jammed roads on a sweaty July afternoon takes torture to a whole new
level. Sitting in an endlessly stuttering auto-rickshaw, waiting for the signal to go green, I plugged in my earphones and switched to coke studio
playlist to drown out the traffic cacophony. Just as Lucky Ali started humming
into ‘O Sanam’, someone tapped on my
knees.
