My friend and officemate, Shekhar, invited me to his relative's wedding in his hometown which was 2.5 hours away from New Delhi. We left work early and made our way to the bus terminal. It was a long and literally bumpy ride to his place. Whenever the bus ran over potholes, we would be thrown off our seats. Amazingly, Shekhar still managed to snatch some sleep despite the ride.

The wedding was a huge celebration. There were about a thousand guests that came and went. While we were socializing, Shekhar kept introducing me to his relatives - an uncle, a nephew, a niece, a cousin, an uncle's cousin, a cousin's uncle, a nephew's niece, a niece's nephew. He said he didn't know half of the people who were there. Apparently, the bride and groom didn't know everyone too. It wasn't just a family affair, the whole town was invited.

There was a wide array of North Indian dishes served throughout the night. I had to pace myself otherwise I would have been too stuffed to taste them all. Unlike dishes and drinks served in Filipino weddings, we feasted on vegetarian food and non-alcoholic beverages.

"North India is all about sweets!" -Shekhar

Indians say that Indian weddings last for a whole week. True enough, I learned that this was only the third day of celebrations and that the celebrations will continue even after the wedding. The drums were beating non-stop and the speakers were on full blast. There was an explosion of colors, dance and songs. The relatives of the couple brought out bills and twirled it on top of them, as if blessing them for a bountiful conjugal life. The party lasted until the wee hours of the morning with the wedding vows as the peak of the event.

“When in India, do as Indians do.” -Raf
"We Indians love to dance but we don't know how!" -Shekhar

The groom arrived accompanied by passionate drummers and dancing relatives. His traditional Indian wedding dress was intricate and masterfully done. The amount of detail and hard work put into sewing that outfit must have made him feel like a king for a day. Then the bride arrived dressed with a gown that would not be outshone by her partner's ensemble. The intricate bead work of the gown complemented the sophisticated facial adornments she wore so gracefully.

The ceremony was filled with rituals and traditions. One such tradition was for the couple to take turns in putting a necklace of flowers on each other. According to tradition, the groom goes first. When it was the bride's turn, the groom's relatives lifted him so high that he almost hit his head on the ceiling. Determined to complete the ritual, the bride's relatives had to lift her as high as the groom. This symbolizes that the couple should outdo each other in showing love with their relatives’ support.

Exhausted from partying, we headed to Shekhar's aunt's place to crash for the night. The first floor was a barn where they kept their cows, complete with cow dung covering the walls. The second floor had bedrooms, the living room and the kitchen. The third floor was the rooftop which, to my surprise, was where we were going to sleep! We lifted wooden beds to the top and slept. There was no electricity in the entire village. Our only light was the glowing moon and the stars that seemed to shine brighter than anywhere else I’ve visited.

The experience was so surreal. Here I was in the middle of a small village in India, sleeping on a rooftop on a makeshift bed. I made a long-distance call to my sister in the Philippines to quickly tell her how my night went.

The next morning, they served me a traditional Indian breakfast — an Indian “pancake” which was chapati covered in sugar from their farm and a glass of warm milk taken from the cows right below us.