Connaught Place in New Delhi at midnight, deserted. It has almost a supernatural atmosphere as the revellers retire for the day, as the pavement-sellers and the boys selling t-shirts outside Palika Bazaar shut shops for the night, as the parked cars surrounding the circle of the white-washed colonial edifice disappear… The night is for drunk men, for seekers of clandestine sex, for stray autorickshaw drivers and the beggars… The empty streetlights that utterly fail to illuminate the night soaked in memory and nostalgia, which cannot maintain the balance sheet of loss and gain…