In the bustling metropolis of Bengaluru, Cottonpet is an anachronism. Old-timers willingly launch into anecdotes from days gone by when the area was a booming wholesale market for cotton textiles, which is also what gave it its name. With the industry eventually falling on hard times, the development engine just whizzed past Cottonpet, leaving it seemingly frozen in time. People constantly jostle for space in its narrow, dusty lanes, where cows often block the way by sprawling across any available space. Here, you don’t locate an office or a home by its address; you ask for directions that involve locating obscure landmarks and moving forward. This hit-and-miss approach gets us to a somewhat decrepit building and we are ushered on to the third floor. The blast from the past continues here — groups of people in white cotton caps shouting zindabad in unison could be a scene from any old movie about the independence struggle. But it’s not.