You cannot have experienced Bombay and not have a story about a mad Parsi friend. I did not. The hole was filled last year in October, the worst and most humid month in the city. It was the humidity that drove him away from Bombay — and real estate development. So he took me for a walk through the old Bombay, the city of his childhood. It was mostly excellent street food, colourfully invective rants against the real estate juggernaut. We stopped at Cama Baug, where Parsis have their religious functions and which is threatened with ‘dwalpment’. I had to buy this Zarathustra night lamp to seal the memory. Who knows what abomination replaces that charming old structure?