Only when the last tree is cut

Today I woke up at 5 30 in the morning. Today is a Sunday. An aunt needed to be picked up from the railway station.
Anyway, so I got there on time (well, a tad early actually) and saw people in a long winding queue maybe about 200 meters at the least. These folks were of the push and shove to get something done variety and I found it impossible to find a way around them to get to the platform. When I tried cutting through the line, everybody seemed to hug each other to form some sort of a human wall. I tried to explain that I just needed to get to the other side and they simply ignored me the way I ignore child-contortionists at traffic lights.

Last night, a friend and I were at Fanoos.
He saw an old beggar woman sitting on the pavement and felt something profound.
He told another beggar woman that the old woman was like his mother and that he felt really bad seeing her that way. He asked her to look after her for him.
I thought he empathized for a moment.