The moment I step inside the iron gates, every pair of eyes turns towards me. The hands lay suspended mid-air, as if someone just pressed ‘pause.’ This is what entering Santa’s workshop and watching the elves in action, looks like. A microsecond later, everyone goes back to their task as though nothing happened. Wander Woman has sneaked inside a Blinkit dark store. And they couldn’t care less.

These men in yellow shirts have places to be. Orders to fulfil. Chocolates to satisfy your sugar cravings. Milk packets to give you your daily caffeine hit. Two packets of Gold Flakes, 250 grams of coriander leaves, one packet of Amul cream, three packs of Dark Fantasy… the orders keep piling on. And these delivery-superheroes keep flying across the city to deliver them in “under eight minutes.” Armed with brown packages, they zoom past us all day long, never tired, never bored. Their feverish focus on their task can make you feel as though you’re not doing enough with your life.

The forbidden territory is alive with action. There are men making a beeline for the store’s entrance, where the osmosis happens—the exchange of items from inside the store to the men who’ll deliver them. It’s rather simple. The moment anyone places an order, the notification reaches the people working inside the store and the actual delivery men. The clock starts ticking, and the workers inside the store start piling the baskets with the items ordered. If you’ve seen MasterChef Australia, it’s akin to watching the contestants fill their baskets with ingredients from the pantry within two minutes. The only difference is, here, the challenge goes on until your shift is over.

Some lemon-yellow-clothed men are sitting outside, along the iron gate. They’re on a well-deserved break. Some are sitting in front of the coolers, drying their sweat-soaked shirts. A few are glued to the store’s entrance, shouting names to call out their orders. “Versha!” “Sonali!” “Reshma!” “Reshma!” The pace of activity at the counter is dizzying. Several hands are pulling items from the basket, dropping them into brown paper bags, ripping off the seal, folding it, and dashing out. The baskets are empty—for now.

Sunil Satelkar, the security guard, is studying me while carrying the empty baskets inside. “Are you planning to open a store of your own?” he asks. My interest in watching the inner workings of a Blinkit dark store intrigues him. I linger on, saying things like, “I really enjoy watching this, so I came in.” With a faint smile, he says, “Okay, then you must at least sit down. It’s hot!” I keep standing, watching the men pack orders. Niraj Chaudhary, a delivery man, has just returned from fulfilling an order. As he packs another one, he smiles at me. I ask if he has ever delivered just one item. He replies, “Of course, many times.” I prod further, asking if it bothers him. “Why would it? I get paid the same regardless of the order size. I’ve even delivered a single pen,” he replies coolly.

And he’s vanished into thin air, with his purpose in his hands.

Enter Mudassar, an English-speaking delivery man who’s also a café assistant at Starbucks. It’s his last order of the day before he rushes off to the Lokhandwala Starbucks. He’s got two jobs in hand, a family to feed, and no time to complain. Hidya, the man standing next to him, is watching us talk. A 40-year old man from Kolkata, his favourite part of the job is using the elevators in the building. He smiles as he tells me this, and I catch a glimpse of innocence in his eyes. Who knew someone’s best part of their job would be taking the elevator!

And in the blink of an eye, all the delivery personnel have left the nest. Mr Sunil comes out again. A lean man, his secret is home-cooked food and standing at his job. “If I keep sitting, I’ll develop a paunch,” he says, gesturing with his hands. “Yes, like the policemen,” I respond. He chuckles. The conversation is cut short by a frenzy of delivery-men dashing towards the counter. And the same cycle repeats again. I watch, hypnotised.

For a brief moment, between their 14-hour shift, I catch them all sitting around the cooler. They’re laughing, and pulling each other’s legs. One of them starts to dance, unbothered by my presence. It’s their little world, where even though they’re following “orders”, they seem fully in control. Nothing bothers them. Nothing distracts them.

Not even a Wander Woman who had no business being there.