Govinda ran inside and upstairs but could not find his mother. He stood at the open door of her bedroom and stared in. There were boxes filled with their clothes and linen. On top of the boxes it said: ‘To be given away’. He called her name several times but there was no answer. He made his way down to the servant quarters where the air smelt of damp earth. Tenzing was feeding his goat and smoking a chillum. Govinda wheeled at the strong smell of ganja. There was smoke everywhere and the goat was bleating, amidst the heat, explosions and bright lights. He watched as the gatekeeper smoked and, between puffs, sharpened his knife. Govinda flinched and his mouth went dry. He ran further, deeper, into the servant quarters, but they were deserted.

The school grounds were swarming with boys and girls. The busy prefects urged them to be quiet and stop their talking, but no one listened. Some boys lit fireworks as the prefects escorted the latecomers, parents and other special guests to seats in the middle of the compound facing the school building. Among the spectators were flocks of crows that sensed an opportunity and waited, croaking, for the right moment to swoop down. They could smell the rich mutton biryani in the cauldrons outside.

Krishna smiled. His benevolent eyes twinkled as people wandered past and into the school compound to greet Sunil Seth. A cow moseyed through the school gate. Ashok and Nitesh grabbed it by the horns and tried pushing it out. People watched the spectacle and laughed. Eventually the cow turned and ambled towards Krishna and stood beside him. This made people cheer. The drummers played harder and louder. A teacher straightened up her shawl and glared through her mascara-caked eyelashes. The voices of the crowd grew more animated as more fire crackers were lit. The moment had come.

The Anglican bishop, Das, a plump, grey-haired man with thick, black-rimmed glasses, began his speech amid the sound of the explosions. His speech was punctuated by more crackers, the cawing of chaotic crows and the rumble of trams, trucks and buses outside the school compound, beyond the lane, on the main road. The microphone hardly sounded over the tumult. Govinda looked around. His mother was nowhere to be seen. In front was the headmaster and behind were the students and their parents. On the flanks of the playground stood the prefects, the ground staff, sweepers, the driver, cleaners, and the gatekeeper who was standing to the side staring at Govinda, who saw a distinct expression flash across his bloodshot eyes. Tenzing scowled at him, spat a jet of red betel juice and then looked away and up to the sky. At that moment Govinda felt sorry for the gatekeeper and wished he could be near his beloved mountains.