Tripathi ordered so many dishes that the waiter wanted to know if someone else was supposed to join him; if the table required more plates, cutlery, napkins. The food arrived in waves: lung fung soup, chicken Manchurian, vegetable fried rice, sweet and sour vegetable, crispy fried noodles and American chopsuey, a bewildered fried egg occupying the centre of the bowl. Tripathi rubbed his hands together, spread a napkin on his lap, lowered his lips to bowl level, and gently blew into the soup.

He stayed in El Chico for an hour and a half. He ate very little and left most of the food untouched. When he asked for the bill the waiter offered to pack the food but Tripathi refused. He picked up his helmet and walked out into the afternoon sunshine, but not before he had left a generous tip, his fattest ever.

Still not in a mood to go home, he decided to wander around Civil Lines for a while. He walked into shops at random. He walked into Gangotri and made the young salesgirl pull out piles of bed sheets from the shelf behind her. He did not buy any.

He walked into B.N. Rama Stores and wandered around the toys section. A remote-controlled car with a red revolving light caught his fancy. He played with it for a while, mesmerized. His lips opened and shut in constant movement but no word or sound escaped them. Every few seconds, his left hand would fly up in the air emphasizing a point in a private argument.

Back on the pavement outside, he was seized by a violent craving for ice cream. He turned left from B.N. Rama’s and walked in a straight line till he reached HotBite, the town’s only fast-food joint and ice cream parlour. The place was full of young people, mostly teenaged boys, talking loudly and excitedly. Christmas decorations were already in place. Balloons floated listlessly in the air-conditioned air, fairy lights blinked on and off ceaselessly, oversized stars dangled from the ceiling like cheerful corpses.

A group of boys instinctively fell silent when they saw Tripathi walk in. They resumed their animated discussion when they saw him take a table far removed from theirs. Tripathi sat with his back to everybody. He had walked in for an ice cream but once inside felt like ordering a large quantity of food and gobbling it up in one go.

He walked back to the counter and ordered food worth several hundred rupees. When his turn came, it took him three trips to get the food to his table. He arranged the trays carefully as if following a pre-conceived plan.