“And yet — and I did not understand this at the time, I only understood it much later, in the courtroom, looking back at the geography of my life and trying to identify the moments that mattered — and yet, the boring conversation was exactly what I needed. Not excitement. Not intensity. Not the intellectual fireworks of Manav's conversations, which had burned bright and which had, in their brightness, blinded me to the darkness they carried. I needed boring. I needed safe. I needed a conversation about property markets with a man whose eyes were the colour of milky chai and who did not push and who did not ask about the other things and who ate his mysore dosa with the quiet enjoyment of a person who was content with what was in front of him.”