Benares.

In the summerhouse, eleven beautiful women drink cardamom tea.

Chilled mangoes and papayas are served in silver bowls.

Fans whirl overhead.

I am hypnotized by the evening heat and slow, charming whispers of Hindi and polite Oxonian English.

The woman, whose smile is incandescent, not merely practiced, finally meets my eyes. I wish to hurl myself across the room and land on my feet, calmly, perfectly, in front of her.

“Beautiful tunic,” I would say (hopefully embarrassed at my nervous lack of wit).

Kurta Tunic (No. 6566) in the easiest, coolest 100% cotton from the Monti Mill. Utterly cool. Entirely self-possessed. Imported.