‘By the way, meet Janaki,’ Haridas announces. Everybody bursts out laughing. ‘Oh God, of course. You were together at the great seminar. What about you, Shekhar? Do you know Janaki?’

Shekhar’s eyes turn into two quick-frost ice cubes. ‘She is learning music from my wife.’ The emphasis on ‘my wife’ amuses Haridas. He turns to Sharada. ‘You didn’t tell me.’

Sharada reddens. ‘Did I need to?’

Anima says, ‘Really, Haridas. You expect us to keep you updated on everything that’s happening in our lives?’

‘Plain human curiosity,’ Haridas says.

‘That could be my problem too. So tell me, which lucky woman are you making divinely blissful these days?’

Several pairs of shocked eyes turn to Anima. She, the epitome of good form, has broken an unwritten rule. The women in Haridas’s life are to be left out of conversations unless he brings them in. Ashesh’s eyes warn Anima to keep off. But Feroze puts his arm around her shoulders. Anima doesn’t shift her gaze from Haridas’s face. Haridas rubs his cheek dramatically. ‘That stung. But you’re right. Why should I want to know who Sharada’s students are? Anyway, take my advice, Janaki. Don’t learn those new things she’s composing.’

Ashesh moves over to Janaki’s side.

‘Why not?’ Sharada asks coldly. ‘Do artists have a monopoly on experiment?’

Haridas looks at her gravely. ‘That’s almost how it is. Our language is global. It is not bound by traditions like yours. Tradition’s your anchor. Throw that away and you lose everything. Any wind from anywhere can toss your boat around.’

‘Did Kumar Gandharva’s boat get tossed around?’

‘Are you Kumar Gandharva?’

‘As much as you are Picasso. But nobody denies you the right to experiment.’

‘The tradition of art itself is about constant experimentation and change. Nobody practises “classical art” like they do classical music and classical dance. We don’t touch our ears in apology to an unseen guru every time we make a mistake.’

‘And yet you make monumental mistakes. Your installation of white sheets hung all over the place was one. But it was important for you to try it out. Because artists have to keep pushing back what they’ve done successfully to discover what else they can do. An entire gharana in classical music was born out of rejecting known raags for newly composed, unknown ones. Who composed them? Wasn’t that experimentation?’

‘But your bandish that day . . .’

‘. . . might have failed like your white sheets. But I learnt a few things from composing and singing it.’

‘So did I,’ Janaki comes in. ‘The words and the music together hit me straight in the gut.’

A heavy silence descends again. Sharada stares defiantly at Haridas. Haridas gets up from Janaki’s side, gazing appreciatively at Sharada. ‘Touché. You’ve shut me up . . . at least for the moment.’