Maharaj-ji was Gautama’s personal moron, or a shared man-servant, when he chose to think otherwise. It was a regular job, nine to five, perks and bonus. But there were times when he tired of it. On such days he turned to Ero Nus, Gautama’s flat mate, for solace and random wisdom.

‘Maharaj-ji,’ Ero Nus obliged from his desk, ‘times have changed. Life is changing faster than salt peanuts. Tell your erstwhile master that.’

‘What’s so erst about Gautama? Maharaj-ji grumbled. ‘I thought he was just for a while anyway, like the job you once got.’

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