“Show me more!” Hiya demanded, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet as the three adults sipped Bala’s special ginger-tea from delicate china cups in the drawing room.

Putting his cup obligingly down on the coffee table, Ashwin held his hand out to the girl, his expression a study in solemnity. With equal gravity, Hiya unscrewed the top of her piggy bank and handed him a bronze two-dinka coin. This was followed by a slight nod which made Ruban think of a circus ringmaster signalling her lion to jump through the fiery hoop.

Right on cue, Ashwin’s fingers closed around the coin as he mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath. A second passed, then another. Just as Hiya’s expression began to shift from expectant to slightly sceptical, the Zainian twisted his wrist in a dramatic flourish and bringing his closed fist next to the girl’s ear, threw his fingers open. Not a coin but a beautiful, multi-hued peacock feather sprang upright from between his index and middle fingers.

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Hiya squealed again, her eyes dancing with delight as she clapped excitedly. Despite himself, Ruban could feel his breath catch at the sight of the prismatic feather swaying gently in the light monsoon breeze.

Then the feather was gone, the coin resting innocently on the palm of Ashwin’s hand as he held it magnanimously out to his audience. Hiya plucked the coin out of the Zainian’s hand with a grin that threatened to split her face in two.

Bala reappeared at the doorway with a tray full of delicious-smelling biscuits and sweets to accompany her excellent tea. And everything else was forgotten for the next few minutes as everyone hunkered down to feast on the homemade delicacies with unanimous enthusiasm.