The last time Korok had seen a movie was four months earlier, at a village on the other side of the Tel. A travelling group had put up an open-air screen, and showed some new Odia movies. With songs and fights and great dialogues. The villagers had had a wonderful time. Some had liked a superhit movie so much they had thrown their footwear at the screen when the hero had been beaten up. But there was a happy ending to it, which they had expected.

‘But I have only English movies. I will explain if you do not understand.’

A shadow darkened the door. Anchita looked up, and nearly screamed. A completely round face was suspended in midair, with the biggest grin she had ever seen on anyone. The face had the whitest, most beautiful teeth.

‘I thought you were alone,’ said a shy voice. The head continued to bob up and down at the door.

‘Come in, come in,’ said Korok, smiling. ‘That is my sister, my uncle’s daughter from two villages away.’

The girl was around Korok’s height, when the rest of her appeared at the door. She smiled, and Anchita realised it was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. The girl looked at the tiffin box, the clothes and the computer on the bed.

‘My mother sent some food and curd for you. I will keep it in the kitchen,’ she said.

‘Please stay,’ said Anchita, ‘We are going to watch a movie. Have cake. Korok likes it very much. What is your name?’

But the girl was very shy, and told Korok she would come back afterwards. Then she grinned and disappeared.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ asked Anchita.

‘No, you didn’t. They are just shy around you, because you are the epho’s daughter. She did not expect you to visit.’

‘I would like to visit her house too. Will you take me there sometime?’

‘Okay, but she will run away from there if you visit, I know.’

‘Do you have a cat around here? What if it enters the kitchen and eats the curd? The room doesn’t even have a door.’

‘There is a cat. I don’t know where she is. She comes and goes.’

‘Unlike your goat, which doesn’t have a name and just sits under the bed. The cat doesn’t have a name either, does she?’

‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t know if she will lick the curd. I don’t think she likes curd. Milk, maybe. Not curd,’ said Korok. He was thinking of something and staring at Anchita’s kompitar.

‘What are you looking at?’ she asked.

‘That horse of yours.’

‘Horse? Oh, that one,’ said Anchita, turning the machine around and looking at the sticker. ‘That is not a horse! That is a unicorn. It’s a magical animal. Not a horse at all.’

‘Does it have a name?’

‘Of course it does.’