On Feroze's birthday all his relatives turn up for lunch without invitation. During the rest of the year, one or two drop by on a Sunday to see how Freny's boy is getting along. Feroze orders dhanshak, kebabs and brown rice from the Ratan Tata Institute every Sunday. Heerabai makes an excellent kutchumber of tomato and onion. The amount of food ordered for two would render even half a dozen lunchers immobile. But more must be ordered because more might come, and whoever drops in before lunch stays for lunch. That's the way of the house.

On Feroze's birthday, however, Jijabhau considers it improper to fob relatives off with the usual fare. He has persuaded Heerabai to learn how to make chicken farcha, bhindi par eedu and saas ni macchhi from Frenybai's cousin Ratibai who lives in Pune. One or other of the female relatives may always be relied upon to contribute the dessert—dal podi or custard. Jijabhau is happy when the table groans.

Haridas has been dropping in on Feroze's birthday even when Freny was alive, but just to greet, give and go. Now he comes for lunch. Besides being extremely fond of Parsis in general, he is fascinated by their idea of racial purity, guarded jealously for seven hundred years while living away from their original homeland. They adapted to local ways in externals like dress, food, language and social customs. They have no qualms in breaking bread with people of other religions. But marriage has to be within the community to keep the race pure. Haridas, who instinctively rebels against all forms of orthodoxy and ideas of purity, still feels drawn to Parsis for their sheer love of life and generosity of spirit.

As Haridas enters Feroze's living room, he hears his uncle Burjor's cannon voice going off. ‘Dikra, at least as your social responsibility—’ He breaks off when he sees Haridas. ‘Come, come, come. The great artist. You all know him, neh? See today's Mumbai Observer. Huge photo, this big, wearing a dhoti, like a Bengali babu. Ketlo handsome laage chhe.’