She is desire. She is the mirage of fulfilment. She is life. She is death. She is beauty and youth. She is ugliness and fear of pestilence. She is past, future and eternal present. She is nature, cosmic humanity at its most trivial and most profound. She is Maya, the central character of the latest novel by I. Allan Sealy. Maya is a puppeteer. She is a ventriloquist, throwing voices of the medieval times, tossing destinies from the past and modern times and colluding with Sealy in his attempt to mortalise the immortal historic past of their common playfield, Dilli. With a dash of St Petersburg thrown in, and a Russian biological weapon scientist Lev to hold one’s arm, the rumalis of Karim’s and its Mughlai fare come alive, hot and steaming.The filth that flows beside Delhi Gate for once, at least in fiction, carries the hues of a real river, and the bustle inside the walled city comes alive and throbs in the attentive eyes of the author who walks delicately on the dangerous edge between a tourism guide and a novel about the eternal theme of love and longing.