Ryan saw her standing there amidst all those skyscrapers and the illuminated screens, at one of the busiest places on the planet, crying. It wasn’t loud and hardly had any tears. Probably in her fifties, she looked weak and confused. He kept watching her for a good ten minutes before invading her privacy and asking her what was wrong.

She handed over the yellow paper that probably had the directions to her abode. Ryan immediately knew that she was at the wrong street, but stood there helpless unable to cross the language barrier.

Like everyone around him, Ryan too was busy and had things to get back to. Walking towards the subway tunnel, he looked back one last time. He could see her waiting for yet another wrong bus. Their eyes met and she bowed at Ryan. Her face was emotionless now, as though she had given up.