Ramesh has known this man since he was a boy, working under his father. Now he's tall and handsome, like a film star. He has also become very fancy lately, with stylish clothes and two cell phones, one for incoming calls and one for outgoing. So we expected great things - or at least something - but the place was a kind of rusted-hulk museum. There was a small open space and a ring of stalls, each containing a car that would clearly never be driven again. One pile of rust might have been a Model T Ford - a crank projected from the grille.
While Ramesh was getting the horn fixed - it turned out that part of it had filled with water when the car was being washed - I took a couple of pictures. The brightest colour in the yard was the oil drum:
Here's a corner that I liked because of the muted colours and textures. The door on the left leads to a squat toilet. That's not our car!