The first word spoken by the Indian man Ajatashatru Oghash Rathod upon his arrival in France was, oddly enough, a Swedish word. Ikea. That was what he said in a quiet voice. Having pronounced this word, he shut the door of the old red Mercedes and waited, his hands resting on his silky knees like a well-behaved child. The taxi driver, who was not sure he had heard correctly, turned round to face his customer, making the little wooden beads of his seat cover creak as he did so.