Govinda waited for an explanation but nothing more came.

‘What’s the thing about girls, Nitesh?’

‘Every time they walk past, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall in love with them.’

‘What do you know?’ Govinda asked cautiously.

Nitesh did not respond. Govinda waited expectantly. He was curious to learn more but he was also a little suspicious of his friend.

‘I know that girls like to be admired. They want to be loved,’ said Nitesh. He was smirking roguishly.

‘Who told you this? Govinda questioned Nitesh. He hated sounding naïve but he was curious.

‘My father told me men and women like to have sex,’ said Nitesh with an insufferable grin. ‘Some men and women like sex more than other men and women.’

Govinda’s ears burned. He stood very still.

‘You don’t know what a fuck is?’

‘I do,’ said Govinda.

‘You don’t know anything, Butt-scratcher.’

The forest-dwelling adivasi artisan lit a cigarette and inhaled the aromatic smoke. His bloodshot eyes darted around the footpath, the school gate, back to the ground. ‘We are in a dark age,’ he said.

‘Why is it dark?’ asked Govinda.

‘Corruption, greed, lust…it is to be expected.’

‘Can we do anything about it?’ said Govinda. ‘Or do we have no choice?’

‘Nothing…We live in the age of Kali. This is a destructive time. Creation will come later.’

‘But we must be able to do a little good,’ said Govinda.

‘Death and destruction rule. Bastard of a time,’ the tribal man said simply.

Looking around the lane, Govinda began to see everything anew. He noticed passers-by were wary of the stray dogs, and rightly so. They were fighting over a bitch. Five males of mixed breeds sniffed and stalked each other. The animals growled and stood stiffly, as each waited for the others to make the first move.

‘My god!’ said Govinda, his mouth open wide as one of the male dogs mounted another male and the others stood and watched with interest. The bottom fell out of a woman’s bag and cabbages went rolling across the road. A young girl ran past crying; Govinda wondered if she was hurt. He wondered about a lot of things as a hand-pulled rickshaw with a woman inside trundled past. Life appeared to be a game of chance. Why were some peoples’ lives easier than others? People who wore rags and were born into poverty were cursed. Had they done something dreadful like kill and burn an elephant in another life? And the rich, those who wore new clothes, lived in affluence and drove cars, seemed superior. Had they lived good lives in the past?