Bandu became Enumerator A and was assigned to Colaba. Enumerator A settled on his elevated chair with a long notebook in one hand and a pencil in the other. It provided him some height, a different stratum of air to breathe in and a wider range of vision. He felt closer to his name—Thorle Saheb. Those who saw him on the chair called him numrator after the census enumerators they knew, but he was not that. He was a surveyor, carrying out a survey for the British Chewing Gum Company on the habits of paan-chewers in Bombay.

‘Can you see the ingredients?’ the Junior Officer asked.

‘Yes. Can I sit inside the shop?’ Enumerator A responded.

‘Not possible. Do you want to assist him? It had taken a lot of trouble to convince the paanwala to collaborate with this survey.’

‘No.’

The paanwala was fast. By the time Enumerator A opened his notebook, entered a number and looked up, the paanwala had brought out a betel leaf from a bucket of water, dried it on a red cloth, applied lime and katha from two separate jars, added menthol and saffron, blended the ingredients on the leaf, sprinkled betel nut, fennel seeds and dry dates, folded the leaf, and had topped it all with a clove. To Enumerator A, the opening and closing of jars occurred at a speed invisible to the naked eye, a blur.

‘Can you slow down, please?’

‘Why don’t you write down the name of the paan first and fill in the ingredients later?’ the paanwala suggested.

‘Give me an hour. I will catch up.’

The customers had less empathy.

‘Kya ho raha hai, Nathu, so rahe ho kya? (What is going on, Nathu? Are you asleep?)’

‘Roz mawa taktos, aaj kai jhala katri vaprayla? (You usually use areca-nut dust, today why did you use pieces?)’

‘Mane lavang gamatu nathi, tamane ketali vakhat kahu chu (How many times do I have to tell you I don’t like cloves?)’

Within ten minutes, the paanwala returned to his usual absorptive state. Enumerator A had become invisible to him, until he repeated for the fourth time, ‘Can you label your containers, then?’

‘No.’

Enumerator A changed course and directed his enquiries at the customers. They appeared more forthcoming.

‘What did you order?’ he asked a man with slick, oiled hair and a thin moustache. He wore a white shirt with a waist coat that was too large for his thin frame.

‘Kalkatta sada,’ he responded.

‘Very important person. If you want any insurance claims to be processed  . Knows all the sahibs,’ the paanwala interjected.

As the customers stood around the paan shop chatting about the daily affairs in their neighbourhood and beyond, Enumerator A would intervene—‘which paan did you order?’

‘Who is that fellow up there on the chair?’ asked the postman after Enumerator A had repeated his question to him.

‘A government project; they’ve selected me,’ responded the paanwala.