I had barely stepped through the stone archway when Sheru appeared. A German Shepherd of considerable size and, it turned out, considerable warmth, he walked up unhurriedly, assessed me, and then simply fell into step beside me as though we had known each other for years. In the trees overhead, parakeets were in the middle of an argument. I had been at Chandelao Garh for approximately three minutes and already had the distinct sense that I had arrived somewhere that was not trying to impress me — and was, as a result, doing exactly that.





