It was one of my fervent desires to experience the essence of Mohammad Ali Road during Ramzan, and so, a few days before Eid, a bunch of us from the hospital decided to show up there amidst organised chaos. We walked past pop-up stalls selling copies of every famous brand under the moon betwixt the jarring honking and dodgy manoeuvring of two- and four-wheelers, whose drivers’ fingers seemed to be badly glued to their car horns. I remember thinking that if we could navigate that road at 10 pm, we had a serious shot at auditioning for the Cirque du Soleil. 

As we made our way through some of the dilapidated shops, we chanced upon finest craft work, intoxicating perfumes, and dry fruits and extremely alluring nuts. Our destination was the Khau Galli, which starts at the Minara Masjid, a beautifully verdant mosque lit up with ornate lights that herald the arrival of all things beautiful. As we got to the entrance of that lane, I was mesmerised. The crowds had doubled, the shops had tripled, and the sights, smells, and sounds had quadrupled.