As a rule, I am afraid all of them will end up with a headache. I suggested that it would be much better if I simply showed them my face once and we could have a small gathering among ourselves.

“Your suggestion is quite good, but since we have already made all the arrangements, let us finish this assembly first. Afterwards, I will arrange a special meeting with the teachers. That too is a very good idea. Therefore, the day after tomorrow at four in the evening, either our student leader or a teacher will come with a carriage to fetch you. You must come with them. I will come as well,” he said. When I bowed to him, he placed his hand on my shoulder, led me out to the street, took his leave, and rode away in his carriage.

What is this assembly? What is this felicitation? Why has it come to me, O Lord? I sat there pondering these questions, when once again I heard the sound of a carriage stopping at the doorstep. I was just about to get up and go out to welcome the visitors when they entered inside. This time, it was two pleaders. I learned who they were—both senior to me, so I was not very well acquainted with them. As soon as they arrived, we exchanged greetings and sat down. They immediately stated the purpose of their visit.

“We have heard of your return. Among the people from our region who have gone abroad, you are the first. You are the very first to have studied overseas and returned as an M.A., Barrister. It is a matter of great pride for us that you are so closely associated with us in every way. Therefore, on behalf of our Narsapur Bar Association, we have come personally to request you to kindly honor us by attending a meeting and sharing some of your experiences abroad. Our president himself wished to come and meet you, but we told him not to trouble himself, that we would certainly persuade you and bring you along. He will preside over the meeting that day.”

They said, “You will surely be kind enough, won’t you? This evening, one of us will bring a cart and take you along.”

“Oh no, you needn’t—” I began to protest, but before I could finish my sentence, they stood up abruptly, cutting me off. “Please, do not say another word. Kindly forgive our insistence. We must take your leave now,” they said hastily, and hurried away.

That day, I was certain there was no escaping this yajna in Narsapur come evening. So, at three in the afternoon, I got up, bathed, dressed in my usual five-yard dhoti, put on a laalchi, and even arranged a shawl to drape over my shoulders. Expecting some students and teachers from our school to arrive, I was ready and waiting by a quarter to four, sitting prepared for their arrival. They had said they would come at precisely four o’clock. The clock struck four. Then half-past four came and went. I began to wonder if I had made some mistake, or if perhaps they had changed the date. Still, thinking I should at least check if a cart was coming, I stepped out to the street gate—just as a cart pulled up at that very moment.

From the cart alighted a student and a teacher. Smiling gently, they greeted me with folded hands.

“Forgive us, Parvateesam garu, we are very late. After you so kindly agreed to come, we tried our best not to delay, but by the time all the arrangements were made, it was already this late. If you’ll just change your dress, we can leave at once,” said the teacher who had come.

“I’m not late at all. I’ve been waiting for you for nearly three hours,” I replied. He turned a little pale.

“Aren’t you going to change your dress?” he asked.

“What is there to change? Other than the freshly laundered dhoti, shirt, and shawl the washerman brought, what other clothes do I have?” I said. He hesitated a bit.

“Oh, oh, I see. I thought, perhaps, you might leave these behind and come in something else,” he said, joining his hands nervously.

“Master! How can I go to a meeting without any clothes?” I replied, with great seriousness.

With an innocent face, he stammered, utterly flustered, “Yes, yes, that’s right, sir. I mean, I never thought you would dress like this, sir. I always assumed you’d never step out without a suit and a hat and all that, sir,” he said, trembling with fear.

“So, did you expect me to come out into the street with nothing on at home, and then suddenly put all those on right here? What a fine fellow you are! Come on, let’s go,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder and leading him out into the street.

The young man beside us was caught between wanting to laugh and trying to hold it in; he clutched his stomach, doubled over, suffering in silence, and followed right behind us.

With great respect, they asked me to get into the carriage first. The young man sat behind me, and the teacher took the last seat. By the time we reached Narsapur in that carriage, both my clothes and my face had acquired a slight yellowish tinge. I consoled myself, thinking, “Well, surely there won’t be anyone in Edinburgh to ask whether I’ve washed my face or not,” and though my body shivered at the thought, I had no choice but to get into the carriage and sit down. The carriage had barely gone ten yards when—

“Sir, Panditji, could you please move up a little?” said the carriage driver.

Smiling, I moved forward a bit. After we’d gone a little further—

“Sir, you still need to come up a bit more,” said the driver again.

“My boy, with so little acquaintance, you already seem to