'Jharkhand? Isn't that the new State? But so far away.'

'I am actually from even further. But that is a long story. What is your name?'

'Champi,' she replied.

'Champi. That's a nice name. What does it mean?'

'I don't really know. It is just a name.'

'Then you should change it to Chilome.'

'Why?'

'In our language, chilome means "moon". You are as beautiful as the moon.'

'Ja, hut,' Champi said and blushed. After a while she spoke again. 'You know, you're the first outsider who has spoken to me in a year.'

'And you are the first girl I have spoken to since leaving my island.'

' Island? What island?'

'Kujelli!' Eketi thumped his head. At the same time a shrill voice came from inside the first outhouse. 'Champi! Beti, breakfast is ready!'

'Mother is calling me,' said Champi and stood up. She walked with her right arm outstretched, treading a path which had been seared into her brain through endless repetition. It was only then that Eketi realized that the girl was blind.

Ashok took him to see Vicky Rai's farmhouse after lunch. They went through the Sanjay Gandhi slum, a warren of narrow, dark alleyways containing a conglomeration of small, squalid huts held together by bamboo poles and tattered burlap bags, their roofs an ugly patchwork of tarpaulin, plastic sheets, pieces of metal, old clothes – anything the owners could lay their hands on – and weighed down with rocks as protection against the wind. A group of men wearing pathan suits lazed in the open while their women filled pots of water from a municipal tap or chopped vegetables. Naked children caked in dust played with mangy dogs. Piles of rubbish and animal waste littered the ground like dead leaves. The smell of wood smoke and dung cooking fires drifted in the air.

Eketi tugged at Ashok's sleeve. 'Do people really live in these huts?'

Ashok stared at him irritably. 'Of course they do. Have you never been to a slum?'

Eketi shook his head slowly. 'Even birds make better nests on our island.'

Almost directly opposite the slum stood Number Six. Set behind high metal gates, it was a triple-storey marble mansion, towering over the neighbourhood like a permanent taunt. Behind the mansion the fluted sandstone minaret of the Qutub Minar peeked out, barely a kilometre away.

Crossing the road to take a closer look at the farmhouse, Ashok and Eketi came to the rust-coloured boundary wall, fifteen feet high and topped by barbed wire. 'How will we ever manage to enter this place?' the tribal wondered. 'Even Eketi cannot climb this wall.'

'We will. Don't worry,' Ashok assured him as they passed the main gate, which had at least six guards in police uniforms. They rounded a corner and turned left towards the northern end of the property. They came across a service entrance which appeared to be unguarded. Ashok tried the door, only to find it firmly locked from inside. The barbed-wire-topped boundary wall stretched for another five hundred metres and had no cavities, gaps or fractures which could be exploited. It was only when they were circling the rear boundary that Ashok saw something which made him pause. Tucked inside the cement wall was a small brown metal door, probably some kind of pedestrian entrance. It didn't appear to be in use as the paint had flaked off and the edges were rusted. Ashok tried the rusty metal handle, but the door did not open. In fact, there was so little give that it appeared not only to be locked but also boarded up from the inside. He stepped back and surveyed his surroundings. Behind him was a clump of eucalyptus trees and then a thorny jungle, full of acacia bushes. The brambles made the entire area behind Number Six not only uninhabitable but also virtually inaccessible. 'If only we could get this door to open,' he said wistfully.

'Eketi can open this door by getting inside the boundary wall,' the tribal remarked.

'But how will you get inside the boundary wall?'

'Through this,' Eketi said, tapping the tall eucalyptus tree.

'But the branches of this tree don't extend over the wall. How will you do it?'

'I will show you,' Eketi said and began sliding up the trunk of the eucalyptus tree. Within seconds he had reached the top. Catching hold of a sturdy branch, he began pulling it down with his weight till it became taut as a slingshot. Then kicking the trunk with his feet, he launched himself like a human arrow at the branches and foliage of a jamun tree jutting over the boundary wall. As a horrified Ashok watched, he flew through the air and landed on top of the jamun tree. From there it was child's play for him to make his way to the ground. A minute later the rusted metal gate creaked open.

'You know you are mad, don't you?' Ashok shook his head as he entered the door. The tribal grinned, unmindful of the numerous cuts and scratches on his body.

The welfare officer was in a state of mild euphoria as he took his first few steps inside the grounds of Number 6. He couldn't believe that within hours of arriving in Delhi he was actually inside the farmhouse. The sound of flowing water entered his ears, together with the mechanical hum of a lawnmower. He glimpsed a gardener busy shaving the grass on the lawn, barely a hundred feet away, and was about to duck behind a tree when he realized that the natural darkness of the wooded area would make it impossible for anyone on the lawn to detect him. From where he stood, the layout of the entire complex was clearly visible and once the gardener had moved further away he pointed out the main features to Eketi – the three-storey mansion in the distance, the Olympic-sized pool, the gazebo, and the small temple in the right-hand corner of the lawn. 'That is where the ingetayi is. I am absolutely certain,' he told Eketi.

'Then let's go and get it,' Eketi said.

'Haven't you learnt anything in the last five months?' Ashok rebuked him. 'Didn't you see the gardener? And there will be twenty other servants and guards in the house. We will be caught in a second.'

'Then let's do it at night, under cover of darkness.'

Ashok indicated the tall electric poles placed at regular intervals on the lawn. 'These are powerful spotlights. I bet you at night they light up this whole area like day.'

'Then how will we do it?'

'Have patience. Something will come to me,' said Ashok.

They spent another fifteen minutes exploring the wooded area, coming across two magnificent peacocks. At the very edge of the wood, near the north-eastern corner, they saw a man-made waterfall. Water cascaded down a few large boulders into a narrow canal which ran alongside a cobbled pathway leading towards the garages and the front gate. Ashok tiptoed towards the garages, which were shuttered, took a good look around and then hurried back to Eketi. 'I've got a plan,' he said excitedly. 'But you must remember the location of these two garages.'

They went out through the same rear gate and walked back to the temple.

Champi was sitting on the wooden bench in the back garden again when Eketi returned. He felt drawn to her like a magnet. As he sat down beside her, Champi smiled. 'Oh, you are back.'

'Do you sit here all the time?' he asked.

'I like it here,' she replied. 'It is quiet. Everyone else prefers the front garden.'

'I didn't know you were blind. Your eyes look just like everyone else's. How did it happen?'

'I was born like this.'

'It must be very hard, not being able to see who you are talking to.'

'I have got used to the blackness now.'

'Maybe Nokai will have a cure for your blindness.'

'Who is Nokai?'

'Our torale, medicine man.'

'Really? Can he really make me see?'

'Short of bringing a dead person back to life, he can do anything.'

'Then will you take me to him? To Jharkhand?'

'Actually he doesn't live in Jharkhand. He lives on an island.'