Fortunately, my new, momentary husband turned out to be a rather nice fellow. With an audience of Indian men, my new husband played his role quite chivalrously, and distracted the Indians with conversation while holding up a sarong to shield me from their peering eyes so I could exit the river somewhat modestly. Wrapping the light fabric around me, I scrambled up some rocks to my husband’s perch where a small group of us bathed in the sun and got acquainted.
After some time, Vikas and I decided it was time to head back to his house for lunch. My husband joined us on the walk to a little restaurant where we said our farewells with handshakes and watch our brief matrimony dissolve into the quickly clutching hands of the past.
Vikas and I jumped on our bikes and headed back to his house, arriving at 2:30… a half hour late. His mother was quick to scold us, and test our promise to not go into the water. Following Vikram’s lead, I adamantly denied that we had gone swimming. I felt like a teenager, fibbing to his parents… I think I even failed in my attempt to be convincing… Vikram’s mom shot him a disapproving look, and the scolding was over. Smiles replaced the scowls, and introductions were made and I met Vikram’s father.
We sat on the floor, and Vikram’s sister scurried around bringing each of us a plate of Byriani (Veg. Fried Rice), and chapathis. I waited in observation of Vikas before touching my food. He sat like a baby bird in front of his mother, and his sister sat similarly in front of their father. Everyone waited for Mata (mom) to take her first bite, before digging in. I was shocked when I watched her scoop a handful of food into her right hand and pop it into Vikram’s mouth… and his dad did the same for his sister. They were teenagers hand fed by their parents for the entire meal! It was quite an intimate experience, and I dared not question them about the ritual then, but surely asked the manager of my guesthouse about it, to which he simply replied, “This is love.”
We finished our lunch, and then talked about upcoming plans for Shivaratri (a holy day celebrating Lord Shiva, the Ego Destroyer). They invited me to come with them the next day to the main temple for the celebrations, promising to wrap me up in a sari and do my hair and makeup for the occasion. They even invited me to stay at their house following the festivities. I was deeply touched and agreed to meet them along the ghats at Lakshmi’s bath the next morning. Satisfied with our plan, we said our goodbyes for the afternoon, and I floated on cloud nine back to the river to head to my guesthouse. I could feel my heart swelling with joy… already I had found “family” in India!
I was thoroughly disappointed the next morning when I woke up feeling awful! My stomach was gurgling and grumbling quite loudly… and I felt nauseous. Needless to say, I did not end up meeting Vikram and his family, nor did I do anything special for Shivaratri. Instead, Lord Shiva slashed my Ego into submission as I released my attachments to celebrating the Holy Day with my new-found family.
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