"Well, for Hindus there's a second aim in life besides our honoring our dharma. We call it _artha_. That aim is to have things. Knowledge, wealth, friends. Is that part of why you're here?" Kamala smiled scornfully. "Some merchants seem to believe _artha _is their primary aim." "It can't be for me. I somehow always manage to lose whatever I have." "Hindus also believe there's a third aim in life, my handsome _feringhi_. And that's _kama_. It's to take pleasure in the senses." "I think I like the sound of that better than the other two." "Do not speak of it lightly. For Hindus it is just as essential as the other two aims. _Kama _is taught by Lord Shiva and his consort Parvati. It means love, pleasure, the primal force of desire." She stared at Hawksworth for a long moment, and then at the lute standing in the corner. "Music is part of _kama_. It's one way we experience beauty and pleasure. That's the _kama _of the heart. But there's also _kama _of the body, and I do not think you yet know it. Your music betrays you. You are a man of sensuality." Kamala looked at him regretfully. "But not of the sensuous. Do you even understand the difference?" "How do you know what I am?" "Remember I was once a _devadasi_. It's my _dharma _to know the hearts of men. Who they are and what gives them pleasure." She fell silent for a moment, then continued. "The sensualist is one who only knows his own feelings; the one who is sensuous knows also how to give." Hawksworth shifted uncomfortably, uncertain how to reply. "Do you, Ambassador _Feringhi_, touch a woman with the same feeling you touch the strings of your English sitar?" "I don't see any connection." "The arts of _kama _are not unlike the mastery of your sitar. You can spend a lifetime learning to sound its notes, but you do not create music unless your hand is in touch with your heart, with _prahna_, the breath of life. It's the same with _kama_." She paused discreetly. "Have you ever known it with a woman in India?" "Well . . . I knew a courtesan in Surat who . . ." Kamala's eyes hardened, but her voice remained dulcet. "Is this the woman you spoke of?" "No, this was a different woman. Her name was Kali and she was thrown out of Arangbar's _zenana_." "Ah, she was probably badly trained. But still. Did you feel the force of _kama_ with this Surat courtesan?" Hawksworth shifted again, uneasily. "That's not the type of thing we normally talk about in England."