The wind is blowing strongly today, from the west. It has knocked all the clouds out of the sky and blown the city dust away. Each green leaf of the leggy tree outside our 4th floor windows has been swept clean. Plastic chai cups, cigarette butts and paan packets are flying across the car park, gathering in handy piles on the sheltered side of the compound. Small sparrows are preening behind pot plants on our balcony and pigeons are hiding behind the AC compressor, cooing contently. The gulmohar is stripped of it’s dead flowers and dried seed pods, the banyan tree leans above it, rustling and swaying in a slow arc. The drivers are sitting by the back wall, watching their newly washed cars become enveloped in a fine coating of dust, whipped up from the construction site down the road. Two crows are keeping a fierce watch over their nest in the garden box of an empty apartment. The wind is sending shivers of feathers down their sleek black backs.