Yes, a perfectly abnormal thing to think about at any point in time. But then, no one said anything about my being perfectly normal to begin with…

So, anyway, there you have it. Deciding to find the answer, I forced my sister to be part of this ridiculous quest. There were probably a hundred cafes we could choose, all across town. What I picked was one that stood apart. It lay at Warden Road, right in the middle of a petrol pump!

It was a cool Monday evening when we entered, sis and I. The place was quaint, and all around us keyboards clicked and an AC hummed benevolently. There was a fierce-looking security guard too, for some reason. Was he in charge? No. Handling the reins was a young guy called Rehan.

Sitting inside were three customers: a college student and two foreigners. "We use ISDN lines", said Rehan, with a hint of pride. Smile on. "But no, our location doesn't help in any way. In fact, things haven't been going very well." Smile off.

Leaving him to his misery, I walked to the notice on all computers. I could surf for 30 bucks an hour, or 20 for half an hour. Not too bad. And the café was open from 10 am to 10 pm. Better still. The next thing to do was speak to the guys busy browsing.

Notes for self: Invading someone's surfing time is not a desirable way of initiating a conversation. But how else was yours truly to gain some insight into the psyche of a regular surfer?

Plonking myself down next to the college kid, I smiled. His name was Prateek, and he was currently in his third year at college, working towards a commerce degree. Was he a regular at the café? "Yes." Why? "It's close to my place, connectivity is good, and its quiet environment lets me surf in peace." What did he do online? "Mostly check mail, or chat with cousins abroad."

Just as I was ready to pat myself at the progress made, his body language changed. From 'relaxed surfer' mode, Prateek was slowly moving towards the 'fidgety and restless' phase. Taking the hint, I left him to his email and familial ties.

By this time, Rehan was back. I hadn't even started surfing, and he wanted to know why. Was I from the press? "Of course not. Just a curious mind wanting to be put to rest, that's all." He looked at me strangely then. God knows I couldn't blame him.

"Okay. Please inform your friends and acquaintances about the cyber café", was his parting shot. I suppose a little bit of marketing never hurt a soul.

It was time to leave. I had proved, I think, that location wasn't the only thing giving a café an edge. What could I do next? What needed verification? What problem lay ahead of me when I woke the next morning?

While I walked pondering probable queries, I heard my sister groan. She'd been through this sort of thing before, the poor thing.

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