It was 7 in the evening. The Sun has already gone down behind the hills. But still there is light in the sky, Ah! That’s physics studied long back in school. A strong dust storm, which probably caused the power to go off an hour ago and the UPS-less-computers as well in the cybercafé where I was desperately searching for return tickets to Hyderabad on the refusing-to-open Indian Railways website, has resigned to a somewhat subdued wind spirals making scenic dust patterns on the dark roads. I walked purposelessly towards the Collectorate Circle, I discovered in the morning while looking for a pre-primary school on Meera marg. Quite-a-few busy fruit shops, ice-cream sellers and vehl-puri vendors lined up the Kabir marg side of the circle. I walked across the road and got on to the podium like structure full of large trees, symmetrically designed dry fountain pools and some tubular architectures - to be greeted by a few weight conscious evening-walkers, a lone Burkha clad woman sitting on a bench and a few children climbing up and down the pool walls. I got myself seated on a low marble wall to be mesmerized by the circling lights of the passing speeding cars and neon lights of numerous humorously named hotels around the place.