I recently returned from a wedding event held in my village, Alawalpur, Patna, Bihar. It was an endearing celebration that felt like a unique blend of culture and tradition. One of our cousins was getting married, and our little house couldn’t have been more lively and vibrant.

My village seamlessly revived countless childhood memories, bringing back a flood of emotions from all the events that we had attended in the past. Beyond that, we experienced the familial bond that tied us together—united, as if we were parts of a single entity, rejoicing in rediscovering one another. Each person had their own attributes, mannerisms, and style, yet it all felt as though we were pieces of one cohesive whole.

The strange thing about it all was that nothing felt unusual or out of place. It was as though we shared a connection written in the lost pages of time, and that we were destined to intersect in this way—to come together and feel complete.

Almost everyone in the family was there, except for a few. Despite coming from diverse jobs, lifestyles, and setups, we all shared one common background—a tree of shared parentage. Our communion spoke of oneness, and despite the nuances of different demeanors, ideas and thoughts, we were all connected by this common thread. I can’t stop marvelling at how such events have the power to bring us together, as if an unseen Gulliver were drawing ships toward the shore.

For me, the experience was like carrying a special arm around—one that has always defined me as someone capable of bringing joy to glum hearts. This arm, of course, was my cousins. Keeping them united, having nonstop fun, laughing, talking, creating, sharing, and loving—it was all deeply fulfilling. I relished the feeling of being looked up to as a leader guiding a troop of hopeful children, unwittingly steering them toward constant, guaranteed entertainment. Sometimes, even I was surprised by how wonderful the days turned out to be.

With my cousins, I felt a strong camaraderie—as if we were long-lost friends gradually rediscovering ourselves. With some it was effortless, while with others, it took a bit of effort. Nevertheless, by the end, when we were playing Uno the day before everyone was about to leave, I realized that nearly everyone had fully opened up, expressing themselves in the most comfortable and authentic way.

In that moment, I recognized what I secretly love about humans—it’s not the destination but the slow and sinuous path leading to their fullest expressions. What a miracle to witness! I adore the process—the way people gradually begin to trust, revealing a little more of themselves with each interaction. When they trust you enough to start a conversation on their own, when the awkwardness in shared glances fades, and when they know that being around you will always feel rewarding.

With a wide range of age groups, there were children of all ages to interact with—some extroverted, others introverted, and many still forming their understanding of the world. The real challenge and triumph lay in diving into each individual’s unique trench, hearing them out, understanding their nuances, and making everyone feel special.

Now that I’m back, it feels like an exhilarating joyride has finally come to an end. The storm of jubilation has dispersed, leaving behind a calm. Our regular lives have swallowed us again. What remains now are the memories, the countless pictures, and the videos we captured. These will be revisited time and again to relive that vibrant patch in time when we all had an unforgettable blast.