One of them said: Sethji, Mesto is in the daftar. He has served your hazri.

The thought of food made Bahram faintly nauseous. I’m not hungry, he said. Tell Mesto to take it away. All I want is chai.

Sethji, the munshi wanted to know if you have any work for him today. He said there were some letters to be answered.

No. Bahram shook his head. Tell the munshi there’s no work for him today.

Ji, Sethji.

Bahram spent most of the morning in a chair by the window, looking in the direction of the river, gazing at the spot where Chi-mei’s boat had once been moored.

Around mid-day some lascars came to the Maidan and put on a display of acrobatics, climbing up the flagpoles and doing tricks on top. The spectacle pleased Bahram and he thought of asking the shroffs to give the fellows some baksheesh on his behalf. But to get up and pull the bell-rope was too much of an effort and he forgot about it. In the afternoon it was very hot and he decided to take a siesta – but when he went to lie down, it occurred to him that he would rest better after a pipe. So he fetched the paraphernalia and smoked a little before stretching himself out on his bed.

He had never felt so peaceful.

The days and nights began to melt into each other, and sometimes, when the chimes from the chapel came to his ears, it amazed him to think that this bell had once ruled his life.

One day a khidmatgar announced that Zadig had come to see him. Bahram did not much feel like making conversation, but there was nothing to be done for Zadig had already been shown up to the daftar. He changed his clothes and washed his face before crossing the corridor. But despite all that Zadig seemed to be shocked by his appearance.

Bahram-bhai! What has happened to you? You’ve become so thin.

Me? Bahram looked down at himself. Really? But I’ve been eating so much!

This was not a falsehood: nowadays a couple of mouthfuls were enough to make him feel that he was stuffed to bursting.

And you’re so pale, Bahram-bhai. Your khidmatgars tell me you hardly ever leave your rooms. Why don’t you go out more often, take a few turns around the Maidan?

Bahram was nonplussed by this. Go outside? But why? It’s so hot out there. It’s much better here, isn’t it?

Bahram-bhai, there’s always something interesting happening in the Maidan.

The daftar’s window was open and turning towards it now Bahram heard a sound like that of something solid being hit by a plank of wood. He rose and went to the window. A game of cricket was under way in the Maidan: he saw to his surprise that there were several Parsis among the players. The batsman was Dinyar Ferdoonjee, dressed in white trousers and cap.

Zadig had come to stand beside him: Where did Dinyar learn to play cricket?