When Prakash visited his grandfather in the summer vacations, he would pull out the trunk and copy as many Dalal–Mulgaonkar women as he could. Hambirrao was thrilled with the likenesses his grandson turned out. He would take them around town and give them away free to anybody who asked for them. ‘Take them while they’re free.’ He would laugh with pride. ‘Soon you’ll have to pay through your nose for Prakash's work.’ And so it came about that many dingy front rooms in homes around town were lit up by imitation Dalals and Mulgaonkars. One of Prakash's Mulgaonkar maidens hung in Janaki's home too. The woman had plump pink cheeks, large fawn eyes and hair knotted in a loose bun at the nape of the neck. She was dressed in a diaphanous blue sari and tight choli through which the nipples of her perfectly rounded breasts pointed invitingly. Janaki's father would look at this young woman in a way that revealed its meaning to Janaki much later.

‘There he is, in time and all,’ Anima exclaims, waving to a man of medium height, perfectly made nose and fine hair, who is just entering the auditorium. He nods in acknowledgement of her raised hand. So this is Ashesh Joshi, Janaki thinks, looking at him with some curiosity. He walks towards them in a straight line, looking straight ahead. He wears a shirt with tiny red and blue checks, a well-cut pair of grey trousers and floaters. Introductions over, Ashesh tells Janaki he liked her article on Haridas.

‘It was hardly an article, just a snippet.’

‘A snippet of this size on art in a Mumbai newspaper makes it an article.’ He laughs as he turns towards the stage which has become suddenly active. Janaki notices that one of his front teeth overlaps the edge of the other.

Vikram Shah walks on to the stage with a humble namaskar. He stands before the mic, looks around with easy warmth and begins to speak. The mic coughs and screeches. ‘I forgot to pray to it,’ Shah says with a grin. There is laughter all round. People take to Shah immediately. Then, without further ado, he invites reputed art critic Suresh Pancholi to the stage to speak about the purpose and structure of the seminar and to moderate its proceedings. Handing over the mic to Pancholi, he comes down to take a seat near the door in the front row.

‘The purpose of this seminar,’ Pancholi begins, ‘is somewhat different from the usual. Vikram Shah is a successful businessman, art lover and a man with what he calls a mission. I would call it a naive dream. But Shah means to make it real. His simple wish is to spread the knowledge and love of art amongst people who would be art lovers if only they understood what it was all about.