Although Nala had grown up in the middle-class Tamil suburb of Wellawatte, she knew Rita’s elegant Colombo 7 neighbourhood well. Over generous morning teas, Rita introduced Nala to her world of parties and pretty things. Appa was fond of Rita but cautioned his daughter: the Matthews were once named ‘Muthiahs’ and their privileged life at Cinnamon Gardens had come at the price of their faith.

The thought of Appa made her sad again. He would have liked that the Matthews had made his bell for him. He would have seen that as a sign. Old habits and old cultures died hard despite religious conversion. Rajan said Appa would have found it ironic; Rajan thought everything was ironic.

She stood at the altar watching the priest. He was hunched over, holding her father’s bell awkwardly. Its weight and curved shape defied him. He stumbled and both the bell and the priest’s sarong started to slip down his body. She wasn’t sure if she was going to laugh or cry out. A young Buddhist monk who had been watching the proceedings rushed forward and caught the bell while the priest caught his sarong. Together, they steadied the bell on the priest’s sturdy paunch, and he carried it alone behind the curtain that was drawn across the deity’s enclave.

She sat down on the side of the temple, leaning against its cool stone wall. She tried to pray for Appa’s soul but her eyes wandered over the other worshippers. She saw the young monk who had saved her gift. He was a handsome man, almost pretty. His head was shorn and he wore the saffron robes of the Buddha, denoting his path of austerity and detachment. He was with a group of other bhikkus, monks who worshipped here regularly.

She wondered if the bhikkus were the same ones who had tried to give them flyers at the temple gate. Rajan had politely declined, not just because he didn’t support the newly formed Sri Lanka Freedom Party, but because, as he often liked to tell her, he didn’t approve of political activism at temples. The temple was not the place to talk about the superiority of the Sinhala language or Bandaranaike’s plans for a new order to the country.

Of course, Rajan didn’t approve of socialising at temples either, which showed a clear misunderstanding of one of the main purposes for which God had created places of worship.

Breathing back tears she remembered one of the last times she had spoken to Appa. He had patted her cheek when he saw the familiar discolouration of her nose.