Placed in a plywood coffin in a grey-striped suit that he had had made in the prime of his youth when he performed only for Bombay’s glitziest, Benjamin alias Benji alias Banjo Man shared no resemblance to the evil and ugly soul that he had been yesterday. He looked peaceful. But if you looked closely, you’d notice that his lips had a faint curl to them from the shock of dying, as if even to him, death had come by surprise.
