I am back! This was the coolest trip ever to the in-laws. I’ve only been twice before, and was too stressed out about being a bahu to actually enjoy myself. This time around, we took flights that took us part of the way so that the journey up there was less tiring and I wasn’t complaining of backache or fatigue the entire time I was there; I knew everyone better so I was much more comfortable; I understand enough Gujarati to pick up much of the conversation so I don’t have to have conversations with myself in my head to amuse myself; and we did some touristy things like going out to a lake and shopping. Especially, shopping.
Our bus dropped us outside town on Thursday evening and we took an autorickshaw all the way across town to the Guy’s parents’ house. For some time, I felt like things were unfamiliar. Then the rickshaw bumped over an uneven road, I saw women nonchalantly walking on busy market streets dressed in nightgowns, horns beeped loudly, cattle sat splat in the middle of the road, and the smell of cow dung was pervasive. “Now it feels like Rajkot,” I observed to the Guy.
On Saturday evening , we took a ride on the sister-in-law’s scooter: the Guy, his niece, and me at the back holding on to both. I used to think Pune traffic was unruly... Ahem. My back didn’t exactly thank the bumpy roads either. The Guy though, seemed to remember what it was like to drive on those streets, for we successfully completed our long ride without touching any other person or vehicle. Which, if I were a praying person, is a miracle I would be thanking someone invisible for. (As I’m not, I can just thank someone visible who actually drove the scooter.)
We also took a bus ride once – it’s been ages since I got onto a rickety city bus. I love how the height gives you a better view of the streets.
My laptop is still refusing to cooperate, so I haven’t been able to upload the pictures I took on my phone. (Which is also the reason for the long blog hiatus.) Will post them later, I hope!
Also, pictures/videos I wish I had: of a line of policemen sitting casually on a low wall by a flyover in Ahmedabad, our auto weaving its way through large imposing-looking large-horned cattle to get to the lane the Guy’s parents live in, a herd of cattle (you’d call about fifteen a herd, right?) reposing in the middle of a busy street.