Red Indian Sun - Zhanna Chalabayeva

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village and was not even going to go anywhere, staring at the Facebook messenger, waiting for me to come online. He wanted to make sure that I stayed in Moscow. And he would say: “Well, I told you, she is still in Moscow.”

      I do not know why, but he thought of me as a dishonorable person. It is true that a person sees only his own reflection in those around him.

      His parents said to him: “Go to the airport, what if she flies to India?” His father was angry, he actually planned to leave for airport several hours before my arrival, but the person who invited me to his home country said that no need – it’s not necessary to arrive on time. For some reason, he decided that I was a deceiver and probably would not go to him after so many of his mean tricks, prank with the second bride in Hisar and new online girlfriends.

      At some point, the plane began to swing from side to side, and suddenly we began to fall! Oh, God, I didn’t say anything to my relatives, I didn’t even say goodbye to any of them. I was very scared and lonely, I could not even talk to anyone, we just all prayed and shouted. I experienced such a fear that I simply could not calm myself down. But soon everything returned to normal, and the air passengers calmed down, including me.

      What was most memorable when we landed in Delhi – the flight attendant reported that the weather in Delhi was good. Only +30°C.

      So, India met me with good weather. The temperature was plus thirty degrees of heat, according to the Vaishnava calendar was the month of Trivikram. Around there were people in turbans, colorful sarees. Wet warm air smelled with sweet rot. In the eyes of people, I saw peace and happiness of the child, beloved by the mother.

      In all the contrast with Moscow was felt. In Delhi – absolutely everything different from Moscow.

      A sweet-rotten smell hung in the air, beat right on the nose. It seemed to me that I got into the fourth dimension. Here everything looked unreal. Have you ever had to look at someone through the hot air near the fire? That was exactly what Delhi Airport and its inhabitants looked like when I went out with a suitcase to the reception hall.

      Taxi drivers, tourist agents, and locals stood in a semicircle at the glass sensory doors.

      Since I was a little late, I went out to the hall after other passengers. But I could not see my future husband. Everyone from my flight has already gone home and in hotels, and I was sitting on a bench with my suitcase and bag.

      Indian men began to approach me with questions. I did not know what to answer. In a deaf whisper, despair and fear twisted my neck and began to choke me from both sides. The hall was empty. Out of sadness, I settled down more comfortably on the bench, put my legs on the suitcase and angrily sang a song.

      Then an Indian man approached me and said:

      – If such a girl came to me, I would be at the airport five days before her arrival and would not keep her waiting. Do you have this idiot’s phone number? Allow me to call him and say something unpleasant on behalf of whole India?

      At the same moment, I saw my future husband, who was slowly walking along the airport without flowers, shuffling along the floor with blue sports sneakers, not even hurrying anywhere.

      The guy who wanted to help me saw my future husband and made a grimace with the words: “Oh my god! This one? What did you see in him?” I, too, made a face, laughed, and nodded my head. But I did not have time to answer. I looked around for a place where I could run away from him, but it was too late.

      He was a guy about twenty-five years old. His face was cunning, but radiant with joy. He was thin and slouching, with a deep saddle, of medium height.

      His eyes were huge, black, with long, curled up flirtatious, lively eyelashes, which contrasted so strongly with the almost dead, terrible abysmal eye. On the head was a kindergarten hairstyle which we call “Phillipok” with a long fringe slicked to his forehead. A black T-shirt hung over bony shoulders. Tight-fitting jeans showed sharp knees. The whole image was completed by enormously large ears, bulging to the sides, somewhat disproportionate to the small head. The hands and feet also looked too large in relation to the arms and legs.

      We greeted, kissed each other on the cheek and went to the exit. We were met by his father, a sister with a child and her husband. I extended my hand to my future father-in-law to shake it, but he just kindly hugged me like his daughter. Unlike his twenty-five-year crumb snatcher, my future father-in-law seemed to be a good person.

      I felt so relaxed and calm that I stopped worrying.

      We waited some time for a car in the street near the airport. In the black heights, the stars and clouds danced Boston. My future husband and I were standing nearby, and his relatives were a little away from us. A warm night wind was blowing.

      Then a white jeep drove up, we plunged and drove to the village. I was very tired from the flight and constantly fell into a dream. The road to the village took six hours. On the way, we stopped at a cafe, silently drank tea. I felt their eyes on me, and I myself looked away, somewhere on the tops of the trees, hiding my face from embarrassment. I remember green trees against the black sky, the sultry air, despite the dark time of the day, the coolness did not occur.

      * * *

      Haryana is located in the north of India, and its name means the abode of God. Haryana became an independent state in 1966, and before that, it was part of the state of Punjab. The capital of both states is the city of Chandigarh. The population of Haryana is over 25 million people.

      The state has a highly developed engineering and agriculture. It is in Haryana where most crimes against women occur.

      In antiquity about 3000–1300 BC Haryana was part of Harappa civilization, on a par with Egyptian and Sumerian.

      Already at that ancient time, sewerage and drainage systems existed in Haryana. Civilization fell into decay, and then completely disappeared with the arrival of the Aryans. It is believed that the creation of the universe began from this place, so pilgrims from all over India come to Haryana, in particular to the sacred pond Brahma Sarovar.

      It was on the territory of Haryana that the events described in the ancient Indian epic “Mahabharata” took place.

      My future husband’s village was called Samain, it was not far from the city of Tohana, in Fatehabad district, Haryana state. About ten thousand representatives of ten different castes lived in it. Brahmins, Jats, and Banya belonged to the higher castes. The lower castes were Khati, Kumharas, Lohars, Nai, Chkhipi. Registered, that is, untouchable castes – Chamari, Balmika. Half of the population of the village was engaged in agriculture, almost 40 percent of the population was not engaged in anything.

      My future husband and his family came from the lower caste of Khati, whose members were engaged in carpentry and agriculture. The father of my future husband was a carpenter, as Khati should be, the family also had a small cotton field, and my future husband himself had the profession of a welder. He was shy of belonging to a lower caste and subsequently lied to new friends that he was from a higher caste of Brahmins.

      Castes arose with the arrival of the Aryan tribes in India. Aryans were nomads. There are many theories about their country of origin. They came to India in ancient times. The Aryan entertainments were divided into two groups – gambling and music and dance. The Aryans brought their views and customs, including the division of society into four castes, or classes of society. The highest of them were priests and scholars – the caste of the Brahmins. Steps below were warriors and nobles, the penultimate class of society consisted of artisans and merchants. The lowest consisted of agricultural workers, as well as workers of other professions.

      Representatives of different castes did not have the right to marry among themselves, and it was impossible to move from one caste to another.

      I remember one feature of life in the Indian village. By tradition, residents of the same village are prohibited from

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