“That’s all. The studies I’ve described to you are equivalent to your Intermediate course. Therefore, you should join the M.A. program. Now, you must decide whether you want to study Science or Arts. Since you wish to become a barrister, don’t even think about Science. You must choose Arts subjects. In this, you can study various languages and linguistics if you wish. Subjects like History, Politics, Economics, Art, Literature, Philosophy, and so on are closely related. There are twelve subjects in total; you must select them and complete four each year over three years. Then, you will be awarded the M.A. degree,” he said.

“So, that means the exams are only after three years?” I asked.

“That depends on your preference and patience,” he replied.

“In that case, if I study each subject thoroughly, the topics I learn in a given year will be finished within that year, right? Since there’s no need to revisit them, it’s easier to take the exams for those four subjects at the end of each year. Otherwise, if you insist on remembering everything, you can sit for all twelve subjects at the end of the third year. Though that’s a bit more difficult, it’s considered better. That’s called M.A. (Honours). So, you must decide based on your abilities. There’s also the added trouble of the barrister course. Can you handle both? If not, will you sit for the exams each year? Make a decision and go to the university tomorrow or whenever you can. Get an application form there, answer the questions, pay the fees—this is the very first thing you must do. Let me know your decision tomorrow or whenever you’re ready,” he said.

“Alright, sir. I’m very grateful. I’ve troubled you a lot. I promise I’ll keep coming to you with questions and continue to trouble you like this. With that, we took our leave and returned to our lodgings.

Recently, at my house—that is, at our Edinburgh residence—

The whole affair struck me as rather astonishing. Human nature, wherever you find it, seems to behave in much the same way in certain situations. Chief among these, of course, are the habits of cooks and servants.

When I first arrived here, I thought that just as the people’s bodies were so white, their actions too would be pure and spotless. I began to suspect, however, that this was not entirely true—perhaps it was merely my own fanciful imagination. From the very day I set foot in this country—not just in this country, but from the moment I arrived in Edinburgh—I stopped using the bundle of neem sticks I had brought with me, following Raja’s advice. Instead, as an alternative, I went to a local craftsman, spent an hour explaining my needs, and had him make me two silver tongue-scrapers. I kept one safely in a box and used the other daily. After brushing my teeth with paste and brush, I would leave the tongue-scraper in the bathroom.

This went on for some time, until one day, the scraper was nowhere to be found. I searched high and low, but it was gone. I wondered what could have happened to it. That day, I made do with my old neem stick, carefully cleaning it so the landlady wouldn’t see, then chopped it into small pieces and discreetly tossed them into the street.

For two days, there was no news of the missing scraper. At last, I gently asked our landlady about it. She feigned ignorance, claiming she had never seen such a thing before. I described it to her in detail, explaining that it was made of silver and quite valuable. “Silver, sir? Real silver? Oh dear, what a pity! But no one ever comes here,” she exclaimed, feigning surprise.

“I know no one comes here, that’s precisely why I’m asking you,” I replied.

“Oh no, sir, I know nothing about it. I’m not that sort of person. What use would I have for it? In our country, scraping the tongue isn’t a custom,” she said.

“Yes, in your country you don’t scrape your tongue, nor do you wash your face. In your country, it’s not just the face—nothing gets washed at all, does it?” I retorted.

The underlying meaning of my words was lost on the lady of the house.

In any case, I became firmly convinced that she was the one who had made off with it.

“Well, what can we do! Let’s see,” I thought, and tucked it away in my box. I continued to keep the second silver item in the bathroom as usual. One day, when she brought my meal as usual, she casually remarked, “Sir, I think I’ve found the thing you were looking for—it’s right there.”

“Silver and gold shouldn’t go missing, but if they do, who knows when or where they’ll turn up? I’ve already had a new one made,” I replied.

Even after ten or fifteen days, this one too disappeared without a trace.

“This four-legged thing has gone missing again, madam,” I said to her politely.

She acted a little annoyed and said, “What is this, sir! Nothing ever goes missing here except for this one thing of yours? You must have thrown it somewhere yourself.”

“This isn’t something I’d take out into the yard or the street and toss away! It must have gone missing right here,” I said.

“So you’re saying I took it, then?” she retorted angrily. How could I accuse her of that without seeing it with my own eyes! I simply said it had gone missing here.

She seemed quite angry and, with a huff, walked away from me. After that, another suspicion began to creep into my mind. I noticed that the bill for rice and other groceries she bought for me every week kept increasing. Was I eating more than before? I wondered. No matter how much I ate, there was no reason for the bill to rise so much, I thought, and so I brought