Some of my favorite experiences in India, so far, have stemmed from shear spontaneity.

For a person who structures their day around routine (see post below) and preparation, this has been difficult. On a daily basis someone will ask me, completely impromptu, to follow them. I have no idea how long I will be gone, where I am going, and most importantly – if I should bring my own supply of filtered water.

With that said, I have attempted to fully remove the word “no” from my vocabulary, and in return, been rewarded with some of the most authentic encounters with Indian culture I could imagine. As Gregory David Roberts says in his novel Shantaram: “surrender is at the heart of Indian experience.”

It was around 9:30pm and I was in bed when Vijendra asked me if I wanted to attend a “function.” I threw on some pants and jumped on the back of his motorcycle without a second thought.

Shortly after we arrived at a temple in Bagru that I had never been to. In situations like this I just follow Vijendra’s lead like a looming shadow; we walked in, put a small donation in a wooden box, kneeled before a Hindu shrine, then took a seat on the floor among the 40-or-so people who already gathered. Then, the singing began – and it didn’t stop for two hours.

A man came over to me with orange paste and painted my forehead, saying “welcome” in English. I didn’t understand anything else, not a word, but these Hindu prayers and chants were full of warmth. Each song started calm, building up slowly – not by the beat of the music – but by the energy of the community.

Throughout the function people would stand up and start dancing or throwing flowers, causing more and more people to give cash donations. More dancers, and quality of dance, caused more money to be put in the box.

I asked Vijendra after what the donations were for, and he said that the event was called “Kirtan” – a fundraiser for cows. Every rupee donated that evening went to feeding the cows in Bagru, which in turn provides dairy to the town for a month.

In the midst of the singing, clapping and cheerful joy of the evening, I became a part of the community. This was no tourist destination; this was a tight-knit community in celebration – and I was just another person enjoying my time.

In my eyes, I was in a completely polarizing world. But in “their” eyes – the people –  I was not an outsider. I was one of them. And that’s the a gift I cannot buy, but only earn.

Truthfully, I felt displaced for a short while because I was incredibly uncomfortable sitting crossed-legged for such a long time. My groin was sore for days – it makes me regret sitting on my knees during “morning meeting” in kindergarten! Bad training!

Jokes aside, I realized in this moment that some of the loneliness I have been feeling wasn’t a result of the lack of friends or social life I have here; I have plenty of opportunities to communicate with my friends/family with today’s technology. Instead, lonesome solitude originates with a lack of community, an absence of connection or participation in a cohesive group. At Kirtan, I was adding to the energy – I was bringing something to the table.

As each day goes on, I feel the the thread of Bagru wrapping tighter around me, weaving my confidence into new stitches of this beautiful, hand-printed community.