ABSTRACT
On any weekday and most Saturdays, Vipul, an administrator for a private trust, would leave his home in the west of Bhuj at 8.30am by motor scooter. Sometimes, if it was a pleasant morning, he would take the road to the south of the lake in the centre of Bhuj and appreciate the fine views onto the palaces of the former royal families. If he was in a hurry, or if the weather was inclement, he would take the narrow and congested route that ran to the north of the lake. Either way, he would arrive at his brother’s house at around 8.40am, park his scooter and walk the few yards to the aksara (caste temple) for worship. Ten minutes later, he would be sitting under a neem tree with his brother and a couple of friends enjoying a cigarette and tea, and examining the pages of the local newspaper. Typically, he sat there for half an hour exchanging views on the news and on the latest developments in the locality. He had been born within a stone’s throw of the tree but had recently moved away from the area when his employers provided him and his immediate family with a house. On most mornings, just as Vipul was returning to his scooter to head for work, he would greet Rajesh, a government clerk, as he weaved his own way towards his office. Sometimes, Rajesh stopped to say hello; on other occasions, if a minute or two early, he paused to share tea under the tree. Rajesh’s scooter was small and the engine not very powerful, and it struggled on the slight incline sending a plume of delicate purple smoke into the air above the narrow street. His slow progress allowed him to say a leisurely hello to Sohag who would be sitting on the steps of his hotel reading the newspaper. Rajesh would turn the corner into the main bazaar, smiling at the owner of the sweet shop as he did so, before passing out of the town’s gate and towards his workplace. At lunchtime, both Rajesh and Vipul returned to their respective houses passing a similar set of familiar faces. In the early evening, after work, Rajesh would visit a Swaminarayan temple and idle away half an hour or so in conversation with the Swamis who resided there. Afterwards, he would leave his scooter, walk up to the railings
overlooking the lake and watch the birdlife, turtles and the passing traffic before returning to his mother and brother’s family for his evening meal. At about the same time, Vipul would return to his seat under the tree to while away another half an hour or so before going home to his wife and daughters. In the evening, Sohag and his brother could also be seen under the tree; before dusk, they would wander back up the slope to their separate apartments above the hotel.
