Sally is a wonderful lady, she’s literally rendered Yeoman’s service to a society that now considers her to be a creature of sloth. She rides on two rails but she is not a train. Sally is a tram, an old loyal resident of Calcutta who refuses to die despite all the complications old age brings about. She can be languid, slow and brisk depending on the width of the street or the density of traffic. But she is blamed if things don’t move at the speed you want them too. Some call her a relic; they want to witness her swansong; but her admirers think she’s full of beans in an old school sort of way. Looking at her or out of her storied windows you feel she has enough history to be a queen and enough chutzpah to clang on in our digitally connected world.