It was pelting with big raindrops when I got off the bus. The passengers, tagging along with me, disgorged from the massive moving box and ran helter-skelter towards a minuscule cosmetic shop for shelter.

By the time I got inside, nearly a third of the floor space was packed with people dripping water, who were either craning their necks to find out whether the rain had let up or staring vacantly at the rows of cosmetics on display. The rain had shifted from a shower to a downpour. Indeed, the atmosphere was a bit stifling.

As if to break the ice and inject a glimmer of confidence and vitality into the otherwise spiritless surroundings, a gaggle of teenage girls sailed into the congested area and intuitively gathered around an assortment of cosmetics that were open for sampling. The trinkets they were wearing around their necks and wrists gave off a glimmer in the dim light - the sky had turned into a mass of sullen grey threatening a persistent downpour.

Cashing in on the opportunity, a saleswoman was busy touting the shop's products, even offering to help the teenagers with the nail polish. It was only when the prospective customers expressed dissatisfaction that the deal was aborted.

Standing outside the door just under the eaves were two expats with their wet shirts sticking to their burly torsos.

Scarcely had a quarter of an hour passed when they waved their arms as if beckoning to somebody not far away. A country woman appeared in no time, holding a bundle of umbrellas in her hands. They communicated with each other by gesticulating, language no longer posing a barrier even when they haggled over the price.

At last, they forked out 15 yuan for an umbrella and they dashed out into the rain and walked away with big strides.

In an endeavour to enliven the mood, a stereo record player blared out pop music, which was instantly echoed by the chatter-boxes who seemed to be on the point of utter boredom because of the monotony of the rain.

It was about an hour later, when my legs had become stiff, that the rage of the storm subsided and those who had sought shelter were able to scatter in all directions. I was speechless, however, when I found that the pair who had been observed necking in the farthest corner of the room about an hour ago remained in the same position, totally oblivious to the happenings around them.

My experience may be regarded as being transient and unimportant yet it also reflects a portion of the kaleidoscopic view of this metropolis: the hand-wringing and expectations of the majority of the population, the sprightliness and naivete of teenagers, the shrewdness of businessmen, the vigorous initiative of expats and the audacity of young people in following in the footsteps of their foreign counterparts.

It seems to me that there may be some truth in the belief that a grain of sand is sometimes the epitome of the whole universe.

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