Over a year ago, my husband and I travelled for three hours to the town of Arvi and the temple built by my husband’s maternal grandfather. It was a special day, we exchanged marigold garlands and became husband and wife. It was our little secret, well for a while, and it was beautiful (I tell the story here).
Just after Diwali, we returned for the first time since our marriage! The colours of the walls may have been different, but the atmosphere was exactly the same. An old dog slept on the stone floor whilst a kitten could be seen from time to time stalking her prey and small children looked up at us with curious eyes. There are several homes within the temple and soon we could hear the murmuring of ‘foreigner’ spreading from house to house.
After praying we sat for a while, listening to the pigeons and the murmurs, enjoying the calm of the temple. Ten minutes passed and still the whispers about the ‘foreigner’ continued, someone even mentioned my husband’s name and the town he was born (a couple of hours away). It was a shock for me to know that the news he had married a foreigner had reached them, how did they know?