A misty morning at Maidan, Kolkata. An old man (82) sits under a tree and watches a group of young boys assembling to play cricket. The man shivers in the coldness of the morning. The match starts. The fielding team spreads out their men. The old man’s spectacles goes out-of-focus due to heavy fog. The batsman runs out in the very first ball. The old man breaths heavily. He tries to cover his face and hands up with his worn-out cloth. The next batsman comes to the crease. He hits a boundary in the very first ball. In the next ball, too, he scores a double. The old man nearly faints.

 The sun rises from behind the skyscrapers. The day breaks in the city. The morning walkers and the members of the laughter clubs return to their places. The cricketers leave the field. Office goers boards on the crowded bus. The city wakes up.