Later that evening we went to the Vaishno Dhaba in A-Block market. On the way back we stopped by a construction site. An old house had been pulled down recently and a new one was coming up in its place. The front stood in darkness. The roof had already been laid. A labourer’s family was living inside. One could see a faint light in a back room. A transistor radio played film music.

Chottu seemed to know exactly what to do. He took us towards the boundary wall to the left of the house. The ground was uneven and embedded with pieces of broken tiles and shards of glass. Some iron rods were lying next to the wall. Chottu picked up three. We walked back to the rickshaw, constantly looking over our shoulders, hoping no one had seen us.

Sadiq and I piled into the rickshaw, laying the rods flat on the footrest. Chottu wheeled us to C-47. They asked me if they could store the rods in my room for the night. I had no problem. Still, I was curious, so I asked Chottu why he didn’t keep them in his room. He said he would but he didn’t want to take any chances. The ironing lady across the road was a bitch. She was always trying to get him into some kind of trouble with Mrs Bindra. She poisoned the old lady’s ears with tales. Once she’d told her that each time she was away, Chottu had whores in his room. This had got Mrs Bindra very exercised. She had promptly marched up to his room for an inspection. He had been embarrassed by the pictures on the wall: Mallika Sherawat, kneeling on the ground in a red satin dress; Kareena Kapoor in a white bra and denim micro shorts, a Basque cap on her head. Not finding anyone, she had asked him to take the pictures down. He’d taken them down only to put some of them back up as soon as she left. But the damage was done: Mrs B’s ears had been poisoned. Despite her age—she was seventy-six—Mrs B was given to climbing the stairs all the way to the top of the house, especially when she returned from a trip.

Chottu slipped the rods under my bed. He had also procured a kitchen knife which he’d got sharpened at the Kotla market. He went and fetched it from its hiding place in his quarter. I kept it in a drawer in my wardrobe.

After this we said goodbye. Sadiq had to go home. This was probably the last time he was going to see his family. Chottu returned to his quarter and slipped into bed with one of his sexy, pixelated women.

The next day, Chottu returned from the airport with a very vexed Mrs Bindra. I could hear her complaining about something. I could hear Chottu saying, ‘Ji Madam’ repeatedly to appease her.