It is 11PM. Madanpur Khadar. A big street. South-East Delhi. The street is full of men selling roasted corn. There are vendors selling ice-cream. 21 cows I count on my way along the road. There are men on bicycles. There are men walking. There is a guru, who sits under a tree. There are many men fiddling around with their motorbikes. There are men, who are sleeping on top of a bus. There are men playing cards behind two silver-grey Suzuki-Maruti. There is a paanwalla. There are workers loading up metal frames on the back of a lorry. There are men selling samosa’s. Mr Salman is about to drive away from his shop, he waves at me and shouts something I can not understand. There are rickshaw-driver’s waiting for customers. There are young men listening to music from a phone. It is 11. 15 PM when I reach the gate to our apartment block. It is shortly past 11 PM, and I am the only woman out on the street.