‘You don’t believe me?’ she demanded. She re-counted the notes and handed them back to me. ‘All right, I’ll take ten to give to my husband,’ she said plucking out one of the notes from my hand. ‘Keep the rest for me. I will come for them another day.’

I looked out to see if it was clear. Budh Singh was fast asleep on his charpoy. We tiptoed past him and slipped into my car. Even the starter didn’t rouse the watchman from his slumber. It was a clean getaway. We went through a deserted Connaught Circus under Minto Bridge and then onto Ajmeri Gate. ‘Drop me here,’ said Bhagmati putting her hand on the steering wheel. I pulled up and opened the door. She pressed my hand. ‘Your maidservant thanks you a hundred thousand times. Don’t forget her.’ Then she walked away, barefooted, in the middle of the deserted road.

Bhagmati had not bothered to ask me my name. She had not enquired about the number or even the location of the block of the apartments in which I lived. How would she find her way back to get her money? I certainly had no intention of going into the hijda locality in Lal Kuan to look for her.

Days went by and weeks. With the passage of time I began to think that perhaps Bhagmati was not as much of a whore as I had earlier presumed. And the memory of that one night she had spent with me came back to me with pain. I lost hope of ever seeing her again.

The way Bhagmati re-entered my life made me believe that the gods had decided to have fun at my expense.

I resumed my usual routine of life; a few hours of work in the morning, a round of golf in the afternoon, a cocktail party in the evening followed by a late dinner. In Delhi one could manage to drink and dine off other people all 365 days of the year. The Diplomatic Corps was my cornucopia. I got all the canned food and liquor I needed from diplomats. Scotch which cost a hundred-and-fifty rupees per bottle in Connaught Circus was made available to me by the crate at thirty rupees each or for free. The Corps also catered to my basic needs. Delhi had over a hundred embassies, High Commissions and Legations. Diplomats in Delhi did not have much work to do. Most of their energies were directed to wining and dining officials of the External Affairs and other ministries of the Government of India, cultivating non-official locals, and celebrating their independence days. It was not difficult to find a bored wife or a spinster eager to know Indians and thus ensure a regular supply of imported victual and exotic sex.