The 80-year-old Government Opium and Alkaloid Works in Neemuch smells better than it looks. The turfy-chocolaty nosegay of raw opium wafts from hundreds of milk cans.

I would walk through the rooms I rented and listen to the unhurried murmurs the town made, constant and rhythmic, as subtly troubled as the nighttime respirings of a light sleeper. There was never silence.

Most ping pongs were 35- to 45-gallon drums. The larger drum had room for more notes; the tones were also louder and clearer and could be sustained longer.

Similarly, there are those who leave it out on Rosh Hashanah, as this day, too, cannot be regarded as having absolute rest for fear of the Yom Hadin