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The shriek of the wooden door and my heavy breath.
The sudden silence of the basement’s cool room and their questioning eyes.
Here I was, yet again, not on time. Within that minute of unexplained awkwardness, I doubted if I should put my right foot forward and get in the room or pull it back, shut the door and crib about my ill fate for getting a rickshaw that knew every place in Mumbai but this!
“Come on in,” I heard, not sure of who it was.
I smiled, closed the door and turned around, only to find a dozen eyes glaring at me.
Too embarrassed. Too apologetic.
I bit my lip and cursed silently.