The bar room is an air-conditioned alcove with glass doors, old-fashioned rosewood furniture and tall, gleaming paper lamps. I kick my shoes off and enjoy the softness of the rug underfoot. There is an easy camaraderie to this alchemy tonight, and in the exuberance, Praveen suggests we make a master plan to take over administration of the city.

‘I’ll be in charge of public works,’ he says. ‘Grace – you take education. Samir, you’re our chief minister. Ro, you take art and crafts. Tanya, what are you going to do? Want to take health?’

We pass the joint around and I propose that henceforth all children will be educated in matters of a practical nature. ‘We’ll take them camping. They must learn how to change car tyres, how to kill and cook the things they eat, everything, you know? Stuff that’s actually useful.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Praveen says, ‘that’s it. And I propose that we microdose the water supply with LSD.’

‘Hang on,’ Tanya squawks. ‘You got to pass that through my desk, buddy. I’m not sure that’s a good thing for our citizens.’

‘Are you kidding me? It’s a known fact that LSD has curative powers. People with anxiety and depression. Dude, all those robotic people, they need a little injection.’

‘As chief I’m going to step in,’ Samir says. ‘Recent studies have proved that while LSD in the short run triggers temporary psychosis, in the long term it increases optimism and openness. It’s all about the serotonin receptors.’

‘What bull!’ Tanya shrieks.

‘Why the fuck have I been given arts and crafts?’ Rohini interjects.

It is joyful banter, one of those rare Madras nights when I feel entirely happy for existing. I can sit among these people with the knowledge that nothing I do is harming anyone else, that the only decision I need to make is when exactly I will need to get up and pee. There is no possibility of failure, and for these few hours, it is a kind of completeness.

‘So, are the animals going to be drinking the same water?’ Tanya is saying. ‘I mean we’re going to have a Lord of the Flies situation. Little camping children running around slitting pigs’ throats and the poor piggies are going to be tripping out like crazy. It’ll be anarchy. I can’t allow it.’

‘Fine. We microdose just once a week. Limited quantity, but steady. I’m telling you. It’s what the people need. And the pigs.’

Rohini’s cook has gone to her village for a wedding, so we decide to order food instead of making something ourselves. ‘We’re so freaking global now,’ I say, scanning through food menus on my phone. ‘Imagine doing this twenty years ago in this city. Forget about ordering food online, but sushi! Too much.’