If you live in Mumbai, you will inadvertently know which traffic signals are going to have hawkers and where you will expect not to encounter them. It was one calm sunny afternoon where I matched eyes with a young, energetic lad at a busy junction. He must be a teenager, trying to forge a connection by making me see my need for his wares, more than his need to make a sale. Time was limited, any movement from my side would be seen as a positive sign towards my wallet and a sale would be initiated. I, on the other hand, was just staring into his eyes, transfixed, as if I was getting a mental relay of his story. His and many others who share his plight, of how difficult life is but he is still making an honest living by selling something. Alas, the connection was broken, the signal turned green and before I could even buy something to support him, or contemplate what he was selling in the first place, the moment was over. We had moved.