For all her insistence as a child, Narayan does not try to imitate Durrell’s comic exaggeration of his family — although they both star as 10-year-olds in their respective menagerie of memories. Hers is a subdued, watchful tone, which borders on derision only when it comes to some of the antics of the “urug”, the mirror word of guru, Paw’s mocking term for western guru-seekers. And the Bombaywallahs — including Prithviraj Kapoor; Mummy-la, Kabir Bedi’s mother who becomes a Tibetan nun; and Mulk Raj Anand — pass by with as little importance as a child would give them. However, Narayan’s reconstruction of her reminiscences sometimes lags; her insistence on keeping Rahoul as the thread of the tale does not succeed and often Rahoul’s presence towards the end of chapters looks laboured. And Narayan is better reporting than introspecting in long stretches. Yet if you want to see the West and the East meet in Bombay 30 years ago, there’s no better place than Narayan’s home at 13 Janaki Kutir, Juhu.