As I raised my glass for the first toast of the evening, my gaze snagged on a figure at the far edge of the ballroom.
The chandeliers in the New Delhi Imperial Hotel glowed like captured suns, scattering golden light across the marble ballroom. Waiters glided like shadows between silk-clad guests, while the orchestra played old Bollywood ballads with the grandeur of symphonies. I — Rajesh Malhotra, forty years old, newly married — entered the reception like a man reborn. … Read more