Voting at Fosterganj

I have never seen so many people in the bazaar. Bunting, in the form of rival posters and leaflets, is strung across the street. The tea shops are doing a roaring trade. There is much last-minute canvassing. For the first time I learn the names of some of the candidates.

The chaos and urgency of an Indian election comes to a sleepy town in the mountains. In a bazaar of a town that he thought was heartless, the author comes across the most beautiful human being he has met yet. One unhurried morning at a small branch of a bank, a magic oil is handed out.

The stories in this collection bring to life the drama, joys and heartbreaks of life in small town India.