The Unpaved Road

“Hear that music?” Jay asked.

Rattling Hindi echoed through the dirt streets and boomed off the monstrosities I was told to call Havelis.

“Follow it.”

Obeying orders, Jose, Candace and I walked toward the source. Finding ourselves at the mouth of one of the umpteen Havelis in Rajasthan, we took note of the white stallion and children in bright silk outside the gate. It was just before sundown when we stepped into the massive courtyard to explore the scene.

Two hundred men, women, and children stood, sat, and scurried around the courtyard, a sharply dressed man at the center of it all.

The second I realized what we had invited ourselves into was a wedding, a man began shouting at us and flapping his had in the universal sign for “leave. NOW.”

The three of us turned on our heals, hyperaware of the 50 liters we carried on our backs. Before I completed my 180, I was grabbed by the forearm and pulled into the middle of the scene; the way middle, standing in front of the groom.

I contemplated my fate and whether or not I would be allowed to leave the country if I accidentally wed during my stay.

My summoner motioned for a man to get up from his seat and offered it--two hands with palms up--to me. I felt another stranger removing my pack and yet another insisted I take a seat. After multiple refusal attempts, I took a seat, front row, and wondered if the middle-aged man sitting cross-legged under a velvet umbrella was my future husband.

A silver tray of Chai emerged from the chaos and I politely took one of the disposable cups. No one I had encountered thus far spoke any English but friendliness transcends language barriers. I relaxed over my cup of tea and took in their excitement. Women appeared as a blurred swirl of ornate saris and most of the men had that certain kind of pep found only at the bottom of a bottle.

After a bit, my comrades joined the crowd. We followed the velvet and silk that made its way outside to the dirt streets. The brass band geared up as our group began to move between the elevated lights connected by rope barriers.

We spun and tapped and threw our hands above our heads, following the lead of our new family.

Paper Rupees floated in the air while Hennaed hands darted through the whirls of saris to catch them. The joy of the moment was palpable and contagious.

Just as soon as it had started, the end of the street came. We thanked our generous hosts, collected our belongings and bid farewell.