Travel log - 7

For some reason, I associate bad visibility only with cold or rain.

So it comes as a surprise to me to see the heat and dust haze as we ride an autorickshaw through the city's broad streets.

I drop A off, and head back to Nizammudin. She is a mere wisp, is A. But she does this route every day, by bus. She has no AC at home. And here I am, hulking large brute, and I can't get home to the airconditioning fast enough. Yeah, she grew up in Rajasthan, and she's as tough as nails and I'm way too fat and out of condition, but I still feel like a complete loser.

Gaah.