Indian Air Force jets scream across the blue sky leaving streaks of white ribbons behind them. Then follow a clutch of helicopters showering rose and marigold-petals. The Republic Day parade is over. We go up the Sher Mandal tower to get a better view. I tell her that it was a library built by Sher Shah Suri. ‘But it has no books,’ she remarks waving to the empty octagonal-shaped room on the top. I tell her that the library existed more than 450 years ago. She understands.

We watch the lines of buses, cars and scooters honking, hooting and spluttering down Mathura Road. It is cold and breezy at the western end so we go to the sunny eastern side. ‘I know that one,’ she says pointing to the marble dome, half-a-mile away from us, ‘that is the mausoleum of Humayun Badshah. His begum built it over his tomb. Will you build a tomb like that for me when I die?’

Her irritation is over. She takes my hand in her’s. We descend the narrow dark steps together. I miss a step and fall heavily on my bottom. ‘Ya Allah! Be more careful of these murderous steps. If you had fallen on your face, you would have broken your head.’

‘That’s right,’ I tell her cheerfully. ‘That’s exactly what Emperor Humayun did on these very steps exactly 430 years ago to this day—on 26 January 1530.’

Bhagmati is now impressed with my learning. But she cannot resist a back-hander. ‘He must have been running down to meet his begum. I tell you an impatient lover always comes to grief.’

‘No he wasn’t impatient to bed his begum. He heard the call to prayer and was impatient to meet Allah, so Allah sent for him.’

Bhagmati raises both her hands in front of her face and mumbles something for the soul of the departed emperor. We return home to fan the dead embers of lust and make them glow.

It is a bad day. It had an inauspicious start and much as Bhagmati ministers to me, I cannot rise to the occasion. I tell her I am getting old and nothing will rouse me any more. She tells me, again very acidly, that I am not getting old but indifferent and need a memsahib to re-activate me.