“Ah, this garden!” She exclaimed, gesturing. “The smell of it, the very air, will follow you wherever you go. It sinks into your clothes. It takes days to get out.“

As they walked further into the garden, they came across the stone-paved garden path, flanked on either side by rows of plants and flowers. Some of the scents were familiar: the tang of turmeric, the delicate aroma of roses, the sweetness of cardamom. Others were a mystery, their scents sharp and spicy and elusive. The leaves and flowers were vivid with color and variety: blue, black, purple, red, yellow, and as red as blood.

Kuberanaga stopped in her tracks to point one out, her voice low. “That’s kumbha.” She knelt in front of the bright red blossoms, which were growing just by the water’s edge. “It’s poisonous, and I always make sure to keep it safely locked away in my store room, because children are very drawn to it.“

As she spoke she had begun to pick some of the flowers, dropping them into a small paper bag she had been holding.