Cricket on the maidan
It was my birthday. We had arrived in Ahmedabad, Gujarat that morning on the overnight train from Goa. To stretch our legs we took a walk in the maidan, or park, nearby our hostel (park = dirt field) where hordes had gathered to play Sunday cricket. I got really into taking pictures of a goat with what seemed to be an entire rubber bicycle tire dangling fromhis face, and left Brendan to fend for himself. As was to be expected, he was approached by an Indian guy who wanted to chat.
Rubber tire face.
This particular Indian guy’s name was Chirag and he was out practicing the sprints he’s required to run for his police academy exam. He and Brendan talked for quite a while about the state of Gujarat, the Kite Festival currently underway and the best place in the city to eat chicken biryani. After a while I gave up on the goat and joined the group, which now included Chirag’s brother-in-law Mandik.
We parted ways on the maidan, politely declining Chirag’s invitation to come over to his house, and continued our walk. When it was time for lunch we headed off to eat chicken biryani at the local spot we’d been recommended. As we were walking away from the restaurant, who should appear but Chirag and his wife on their motorbike! The second meeting meeting seemed so auspicious that we happily accepted the second, now more forceful offer to come over to their house.
Already so much of my birthday was filled with happenings that would be impossible anywhere else. From the goat with rubber on his face to being invited into the home of a total stranger, there is an unpredictability woven into life in India that prevents you from getting bored, even for a second. And true to form, nothing could have prepared me for the hospitality and friendship we found with Chirag and his family.
Gussied-up, Indian style
We got a big kick out of this pose
We spent the afternoon watching “Dance, India, Dance!” (reality TV dance competition) which made the “American Idol” connoisseur in me feel right at home. We looked through Mandik and his wife Smita’s two beautiful wedding albums and got a thorough explanation of Hindu wedding rituals. We tried on their most beautiful sari and kurta and took posed wedding-style photos (everyone looked a little embarrassed when they later ound out we aren’t actually married……). We talked about Shakespeare and Victorian literature with Chirag’s brilliant wife Kunjan. At sunset, we flew kites on the roof and witnessed Mandik’s uncanny ability to use his kite to snap the string of kites being flown by people on neighboring roofs–an Ahmedabad tradition, we were assured.
Surprise triple chocolate birthday cake
And finally, as if literal icing on the cake, they brought out a chocolate cake with chocolate filling and chocolate fudge icing (how did they know!?!?!?!) that read “Happy Birthday to Megan.” Chirag and Kunjan’s two year-old daughter Akshaya loved the cake just as much as I did: when asked two days later what my name was she said “Chocolate.” I wish.
Kiran, Akshaya, Kunjan, Chirag, Brendan, Hardik, Smita
We continued to talk and visit with Chirag, Kunjan, Mandik, Smita and Akshaya over the course of our stay in Ahmedabad, and we have made a solemn vow to see them again. I will admit that I am left thoroughly perplexed as to how such immediate, intimate friendship can appear so suddenly . Has the “Don’t talk to strangers” lesson robbed me of a lifetime of friendships made on the maidan on a Sunday afternoon? Or is it that Indian culture and specifically Indian people have a capacity for openness and inclusion that is the necessary basis for such magical encounters? Even having received this royal treatment from others would I really invite a stranger from the park into my apartment in Seattle and let them wear my clothes???
Or maybe sometimes there is a serendipity to life that begs not to be analyzed and obsessed over, but just enjoyed. Even if we make friends in every Indian city we visit, these friends are special. And however I spend the rest of my birthdays, only this one will have saris and kite flying and chocolate, chocolate, chocolate cake all over Akshaya’s adorable little face. (Megan)
More personality than the rest of us combined!
