Removing my watch at Doctor Bagi's ...

I soon grew used to the daily routine at Doctor Bagi's - we would wake before seven for our early morning walk, returning for a light breakfast, perhaps of dosas or sambar -

At eight thirty, the Colonel would emerge from his room - his was the first treatment of the day - he'd have his breakfast later, eating alone - he'd be wearing a short sleeved linen shirt - 

After wolfing down my dosas, I would scan The New Indian Express, or scrawl appercus in my moleskine - I might even rifle the pages of a mad paperback called The Secret History of the World - 

Anne would return from her treatment, smiling, a bindi decorating her forehead, her skin smooth and scented - Jane would make her way to the treatment room with her two ladies - one for each side -

After the Colonel, Ken would be summoned - when he came back,  I would follow, stretching myself out upon the gleaming table, to be massaged with rich oils, then washed -

The routine of treatments would be repeated in the afternoon -

Each day would follow the same course, the passage of time like the warm slow trickle of oil that was directed upon our foreheads in one of the treatments, so that I felt I had been at Doctor Bagi's for centuries rather than days -

I removed my watch, which had so ruled my life, leaving my wrist bare - the pale band of skin soon grew brown -

Here, I had forgotten time -