New Delhi, Aug. 15 -- In the house that we grew up in on the periphery of Kolkata, there used to be a storage space above our bathroom filled with all sorts of knick-knacks. To my cousins and me it was a portal to another world.

One had to prop a wooden ladder against the entrance, go up the steps, open the tiny latch door, and climb in. We were usually not allowed to unless the grown-ups needed something from storage: it was much easier for us children to crawl around inside the small space than it was for a fully grown human.

So a few times a year one of us would be called upon to climb up the ladder into this chamber of mysteries to find specific objects. An adult would stand at the bottom, directing.

We were, of course, thrilled fo...