This story is slightly different from a verse- it’s simple and lucid. It begins with a dawn in Pawar chawl. Morning, in chawl, has its own routine and pace, with people hurriedly moving carrying canister, some lingering souls, while brushing their teeth are busy peeping in neighbor’s house to know the morning current affairs, loud fighting noise of women at the common tap competing to fill the water for household, some sly lads busy in stealing other’s newspaper, Mr. Patkar from room no.07 sending his son to stand in queue of public toilet on his behalf to so that he reaches office in time and so on.
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