It's Sunday afternoon and a man stands alone at the corner of Bute Street in Cardiff. As people bustle in and out of a convenience store next door he is conspicuous among the crowd for his shaved head and white robes. Behind him is an open door and a faint and tempting aroma of Indian cooking wafts out onto the road.
After we approach and greet the man he ushers us inside. Beyond the door there is a set of stairs at the top of which are more men dressed in robes. We take off our shoes and are led down a short corridor into a room with a row of chairs and orange cushions organised neatly on the floor. There are instruments at the front – a drum, guitar, and harmonium – along with microphones and speakers.
