I didn’t know there was a will, or that I was in it to begin with. So why should being out of it bother me? It’s like in school when a mean girl comes up and says you’re not invited to her party. You could’ve lived a long and happy life without ever giving a single fuck about the party, but being told you can’t go is just hurtful.

Getting from Bandra to Churchgate in weekday traffic was the devil’s work. By the time Gehna reached the Yam’s place it was nearly 10 p.m. and she was worn out from all her loopy thoughts.

Upstairs, in the large living room, it was a party. Gehna could hear the downtempo trip-hop beats permeate through the doors and into the hallway. She stood out there for a while in her rumpled pink dress, trying half-heartedly to make sense of her hair. In the end, she couldn’t do it—she knew that beyond those doors were a bunch of people from school and junior college whom she had once hung out with, but who now had nothing to do with her new life. To them, a baby shower was just another excuse to get baked. Gehna couldn’t deal with it. She slipped into the Yam’s room, and then out on to her balcony where Sunderajan, the bulldog, was dozing on a wicker chair. Gehna dragged another one across so she could sit next to him.

‘Sunderajan,’ she said, poking his rump with a fingertip. ‘Hey. Soundgarden. I think you should wake up and talk to me. I’m lonesome.’

The dog moved exactly zero inches.

Gehna rested a hand on her stomach. ‘Babe, if I could give you only one piece of advice about life, I would tell you to be like this Sunderajan. He eats well, takes lots of long naps and lives totally in the moment.’ She sighed. ‘Also, his family doesn’t think he’s a whore.’

She hummed a tune for her unborn baby. It could have been ‘What a Wonderful World’, or it could have been something else altogether. It could have been a minute or an hour. At some point, the Yam appeared on the scene.

‘I’m sorry, G,’ she said. ‘After 9 o’clock, I couldn’t hold them back any longer. They went for the booze like vampires for blood. You wanna come in?’

‘Not right now.’

‘Okay.’ It was one of the coolest things about having the Yam as a friend—she had never, not once in all her life, forced Gehna to do anything she didn’t want to do. ‘How was the thing at home?’

Gehna told her.

‘Wow. Your grandmother’s a mega asshole, dude.’

‘Yep. And there were no games.’

‘Ohh wait. Speaking of games, I have something for you.’ The Yam bounded back into her room and returned a minute later with a life-size baby doll wearing a diaper. ‘Here.’

‘What is it?’ asked Gehna.

‘Whaddya mean, “what is it”? It’s a baby. And, by the smell of things, it’s a baby that’s done the dirty. We’re testing your nappy game. You have two minutes to clean the little fucker up. Go!’