He was quite a character. Consigned to the small courtyard caught in between the ground floor of his owner’s apartment and that of their neighbours – the result of Bangalore’s contrivance of buildings old and new – he would pace up and down the nine square meters of concrete and pierce the evenings’ clamour with his erratic barks. “MARX! Keep it down will you!” His owner would exclaim from inside the house, peering into the courtyard through barred windows after what seemed a