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A crowd had gathered around Ram Lodge, 6, Jungle Maharaj Road, Pune in a vague semicircle. At the centre of it, stood seven people – a boy with a bandaged foot, supported by his two loyal friends, a doctor, as was evident by the stethoscope hanging from his neck, and three others; a man, a woman and a child. The inner crust of this conglomeration looked on with frank astonishment and the outer crust just looked on to see what has happened that so many people were looking on. There were two short men in this outer crust who, despite being on their toes and craning their necks, were not able to see the hot scene at the centre.

“What happened?” asked the short man A to short man B, thinking the other may be able to help him.
“They say, there has been an accident,” replied B, giving up his struggle to watch the proceedings live.
“Was there blood?” asked A.
“Oh yes! A lot of it, they say a truck hit him,” said B.
“A truck, it must have been a painful sight!” said A.
“Very!” said B.
“Did you see the victim?” asked A enthusiastically.
“Yes, a young boy,” bragged B. obviously lying.
“Is he alive?” asked A.
“Probably not!” said B coldly and moved off, while A got on his toes again, trying to catch a glimpse, moping about the growing callousness in the world.