Protesters started marching from Sanam Luang when dawn broke. Some others chose their own starting point along Rajdamnoen Avenue. Mine was inside McDonald's at the corner with Democracy Monument. Unsurprisingly, I was not alone there.

Shortly after the rally started, I bumped in Krit Kanittanon, a friend from my university days, who said I smelled fresh compared to him, who spent the whole night at Sanam Luang. Protesters could be roughly divided into three groups - those staying overnight at Sanam Luang, those who had checked into hotels nearby, and those coming straight from home.

Flexibility played a big part in such a crowd of highly individualistic "mobsters". True, they might appear in "uniforms" of bits and pieces of those yellow accessories or wear statement T-shirts as they wished, but they were individuals sharing a common political desire.

They had their ways of expressing themselves and they knew what they were doing. Krit's brother Roman, 34, said he joined the rally to insist that adhering to the law was not enough, and that morality is the key.

Krit, a father of two, was an entrepreneur who just closed down his business while Roman works with a firm as a computer engineer. Their groups, which have participated in the rally since the beginning at the Royal Plaza, brought together about five to six people, like office worker Supachai Klaiamorn, 35, and Thawatchai Phungsan, a 39-year-old photographer.

There were no rules for participating, but small groups of friends and families dominated the scene. Speaking of rules, this marching crowd did not require a lot of them. When they marched, they were individuals, yet part of the group. When a leader of a group asked them through a loudspeaker to "sit down", they did so.

There were certain codes of conduct closely followed by the demonstrators. There was no alcoholic drink in sight and for smokers, they were suggested to puff away from the crowd to avoid disturbing the others.

When I met Unyawan Uttayangkul, a co-owner of the Indy restaurant on Phra Arthit Road, she was alone for a moment as her boyfriend Pongnarin Ulice, a co-founder of the House Rama alternative theatres, had gone to have a cigarette away from the crowd sitting down.

Like many others, Unyawan was there since the beginning of the rally at the Royal Plaza. Most of the time she came with her sister, if not Pongnarin. They also brought with them creative T-shirts and badges mocking the caretaker premier and whenever they met friends, they just gave them away free of charge.

"Why didn't you sell them?" I asked. Pongnarin said he wanted to do it this way.

Perhaps creating artistic works and distributing them was a big relief during the frustrating political situation. Many groups came up with their own accessories and souvenirs.

A demonstrator during the October 14, 1973 student uprising, Natchaongkon Sathirasilpin and her group also produced accessories like fans. "We spent our own money and helped create them."

Her group, spending the night before the rally at the Royal Rattanakosin Hotel, was easily identified with Thai flags painted on members' cheeks. They met during Sondhi Limthongkul's programmes at Thammasat University and Lumpini Park, and have been friends ever since.

"I never thought I would be coming to rally again," Natchaongkon said.

Well-informed groups like Natchaongkon's were common in the crowd. They knew what they were fighting for and had learned how to disobey the government and exercise their civil liberties.

Two engineers who were sitting in front of me were among them. Ruengwit Chammankitsupat and Veerasak Phipatleulachart, both 28, were keen on political news and followed events on Nation Channel and major news websites.

The Temasek/Shin deal drove Ruengwit from home. "I agree with the [anti-Thaksin] group and I decided to come out. Problems can't be solved at home."

Somehow, the "stupid mobsters" have gradually become more accomplished, albeit in terms of a non-violent approach, peaceful assembly and political creativity.

A top executive with a multinational firm saw progress in the making.

"Each time we gather, we achieve something. As for me, it was a chance to express myself as a citizen. You can see the growing size of the mob. How people spread the news from the rally to other parts of society reflects deeper understanding of important national issues," she said.

She came with her doctor husband and sometimes her children joined in. "As a mother, I believe my participation will make my kids proud of me. And as a boss in business, I can show my staff that immorality isn't acceptable in business or politics."

When her kids don't come along, they always ask about developments and the latest information from the protests.

There were youngsters in small groups as well as those accompanying their parents. Chatdanai Palakawongse, a 21-year-old student in the Faculty of Fine and Applied Arts at King Mongkut's Institute of Technology Lat Krabang, came with his father Vitaya, who runs a stall at the Chatuchak Weekend Market. The art student said he learned about current political affairs from the Internet and his dad.

"Thaksin is smart but we can't trust him. He promoted his slogan 'Kit Mai, Tam Mai' [Think New, Act New] but when he revealed his Cabinet it was full of old faces," he said.

A middle-level official at the Energy Ministry, who asked not to be named, said that despite the preponderance of pro-government information at his workplace, about half of the officials are keen critics of the government. "You know it's difficult for any political exercise like this. Today I'm calling in sick but well, my career path may be at risk."

Yet among the tens of thousands of people were loners who came and enjoyed new friendships at the demonstration. Waranyu Jiasakul, 20, saved his money and flew up from Phuket just to participate in the rally. He followed the boycott list, too, so he had paid more for his airfare to avoid supporting Thai AirAsia. Each trip costs more than Bt5,000.

"My parents didn't want me to come but I insisted and spent my own savings from doing sideline work taking photographs. But I could stay only a couple of days each time."

When he got into a taxi at the airport, the driver asked him: "How much did they hire you to come here?"

It seems hiring mobsters has become normal practice for cabbies. As for "genuine" protesters like Waranyu, determination and political knowledge should prove they are real. And real stuff can't be bought.

No wonder I spotted a number of "mobsters" with cool T-shirts saying: "Ma eng, mai mii krai jang" (I came by myself, no one hired me).

Veena Thoopkrajae

The Nation