It's 7.50am. My four-year-old daughter and I just boarded a professionals-laden London Underground train.
All seats occupied, again. Mental prayers begin for humanity to rise above self-interest and offer my child a seat.
I glance at the adults in front of us, comfortably seated.
There is the lady in blood red acrylic nails feeding into the commuters' boredom by mastering the art of face contouring.
The dude who drank a bit too much last night and is trying to catch up on his beasty sleep.
The middle-aged woman dressed in a suit and killer heels who appears to be typing away an email that will determine if the world will live to see another day.
The 20-Something couple busy experiencing tubasm, kiss after kiss. These two will part and go to war right after they depart the train.
And the gawker who didn't get enough dose of his night porn and is delving into his daytime dose of cleavages and thighs.
Of course my daughter's need to be safely seated fails to register with these human machines who need to persistently reply and forward, blush and contour, and kiss and touch.
In the last couple of weeks since I have been riding the tube with my daughter during the morning rush hour, I have realized why the future looks grim for humanity.
We are working tirelessly to please people in suits and piling on paper notes rather than exercising our souls and practicing generosity.
We are more concerned with winning lust-hungry male glances by perfecting the Kim Kardashian look rather than winning little hearts and smiles.
We are busy narrowing our waistlines and wearing Fitbits rather than widening our family ties and carrying school bags.
It is too difficult being a human and doing the mundane and boring.
And, so we have decided to sign our souls to money and lust.
It is more fancy checking into modes of instant gratification.
My story does have a happy ending.
I did manage to find a seat for my daughter. Yes, after I yelled out: "Can anyone please offer their precious seat to a child!"
Alas, a generous soul finally offered her seat.
This human's carefully articulated move was followed by a moment of awkward silence where all the other humans around us had a moment of epiphany, or so I wish to believe.
Sadly, the epiphany of being a better human lasted a few seconds and the humans got distracted again by a smartphone notification.
Tomorrow will be another crowded tube ride.
Another uncomfortable rendervous with brains, muscles and boobs.
Calling out human hearts; mind the London tube.