Train from Delhi to Agra, March 2004. The train from Delhi to Agra took just three and a half hours, by far the shortest journey of my entire Indian adventure. And the trip flew by faster still when I found myself seated opposite this bright-eyed, bushy-tailed duo. Working in Delhi as criminally underpaid call operatives, they were heading home to Agra for the weekend and seemed thrilled to meet me. Bespectacled boy was a big cricket fan, but despite my admission that I didn’t follow the sport, insisted on peppering me with queries I couldn’t answer (“How rich is Ian Botham?”). As we pulled into Agra, I did the photographic honours and presented them each with a 50p coin, plucked from a little bag I’d prepared for such occasions. “God bless the queen!” cried checkered-shirt-boy, giving his gift a passionate irony-free kiss. And off we went in our separate directions, never to meet again.