‘Have you been to Yala yet?’ Smrithi asked. ‘I’m researching puff pieces about the rise of eco-tourism in Sri Lanka. I work for a lifestyle channel,’ she said apologetically.

‘Eco-tourism?’

‘Yes, well, we’ve taken quite a loose definition of “eco”; it’s more like animal tourism and the successful integration of nature reserves with tourism here, instead of just a beach-based industry. Apparently it’s all the rage with Western tourists.’ She needed to find a better way of explaining what she did for a living.

‘Yes, I suppose so. I never thought of it like that. I didn’t even know there was a war here until my husband suggested we visit! It’s such a surprising country. We are going to Yala. I’m very excited—imagine a five-star chalet in a jungle, with wild animals wandering all around you.’

Smrithi nodded and gave the elephant another tamarind pod.

‘I’m sorry to gush!’ Sunhat Lady said.

‘Don’t apologise,’ Smrithi replied. ‘They’re all beautiful places, the highlights of Sri Lanka, really.’ The ash-blonde highlights.

‘I know!’ Sunhat Lady nodded emphatically, loosening the layers of her hair. ‘I love Sri Lanka. I could live here.’

‘Yes, it is a very pretty country. Nice beaches and nice hotels.’ Smrithi tried to sound sincere.

‘It’s more than that—the people are so friendly. There’s something spiritual and serene about the place.’

‘Spiritual?’ Smrithi repeated. Ahalya had started to wriggle free from the harness, and she helped Prashanth pull tightly on the straps, locking the little girl against his sweaty back.

‘Yes, spiritual. It says so much about your society that you’d look after these poor creatures. Where else would you find an orphanage for elephants?’

Only in Sri Lanka.

‘It must be part of your Buddhist mentality,’ Sunhat Lady smiled.

Prashanth cleared his throat loudly and stepped forward. ‘Yes, that must be it. It’s been lovely to meet you, but I think our daughter is itching to throw herself into a herd of elephants.’

‘Yes, sudden death by stampede—best to avoid it,’ Smrithi echoed weakly. She allowed Prashanth to usher her away quickly. Tomorrow they would head back to Colombo, and to Dhara.

•

Dhara held on to Smrithi’s hand tightly; she couldn’t see a train. She’d been crossing the tracks on her own for more than twenty-five years, but suddenly she felt nervous, as though the young woman’s presence opened up small crevices in her confidence, through which strange, previously unthought-of anxieties crept through. She looked both ways once again and pulled Smrithi quickly across the aged iron lines, careful not to trip in the sand and weedy tufts that grew around them.