I travel by auto maybe ten times a week. It’s almost always fun. But this morning, I had the best auto ride of my life. I was alone and it was ten in the morning. Mumbai was just waking up. A lovely breeze was blowing and the sky was still overcast. I saw a father teaching his daughter to ride a cycle and remembered my first time, when Appa held on to my carrier and promised never to let go. The road was very bumpy and the auto careened dangerously. It had rained the previous night, not enough to make puddles, but just enough to make all the roads black and shiny. I passed a bakery that smelled of baking bread and for the first time, noticed the pretty blue flowers blooming on all the hedges of Hiranandani. All too soon, it was over.